“Yes, and he’s so excited. It’s sweet to see that side of him.”
“I won’t say anything. Did I tell you we’re in the baby-making stage ourselves?”
“That’s so great! Maybe we’ll be pregnant together.”
“Hawk said he’s getting spoiled with so much sex. Now, he wants ten kids.”
The sisters laughed.
Brit loved sharing her secret with Addison.
As Addison pulled up to the gates of the cult, they stopped at the guard station. A man wearing a white shirt—buttoned up to his neck—and white pants, scrutinized them. “Welcome to Sanders Ranch. Can I get your names?”
“Addison Hawk and Britain Skye,” Addison said.
“Drive to the large building, straight ahead. Park anywhere.”
After Addison entered the compound, she said, “He seemed normal.”
“Life’s short, shit happens, people are mostly crazy,” Brit said. “Welcome to the land of the crazies.”
Addison laughed.
Once inside, they were greeted by a woman, also dressed in white. She sat behind a table in the lobby. To Brit’s surprise, a metal detector stood nearby.
“Welcome to the ranch. I need to check your bags for weapons.”
“Be right back,” Addison said.
“Same,” Brit replied.
“Also, no cell phones, recording devices, or cameras,” called out the cult member.
As they returned to Addison’s SUV, Addison said, “I don’t like leaving my weapon.”
“It’s either that, or we don’t stay,” Brit replied. “I vote to leave.”
Addison locked their weapons in the center console. “We’ll be fine.”
Unarmed and without their cell phones, they went back inside. After sailing through the metal detector, the womanpointed down the corridor. “The large room, at the end, on the right.”
Most of the doors on either side of the wide corridor were closed. Lyrical voices were coming from an open door, so they stopped to check it out. Several members, dressed in their all-white garments, were standing in a circle, holding hands. Their eyes were closed, their faces lifted toward the ceiling, and they were chanting.
As Brit and Addison continued down the hallway, Brit whispered, “Mom left us for this.”
Several members walked past them, offering a friendly hello or welcoming them to the ranch.
“They’re a happy lot,” Addison whispered.
Brit and Addison entered a spacious room, plush carpeting covering the floor. In the back were rows and rows of white moccasins.
“How do they know which ones are theirs?” Brit asked, and Addison bit back a smile.
“My boots stay on,” Addison whispered.
There were no chairs, but members sat in neatly lined rows, their legs crossed and their backs ramrod straight.
“They have great posture,” Addison said. “I’ll give them that.”
