Away From the Dark (The Light #2)

by Aleatha Romig

  I watched the color return to her cheeks. Once she was done, I took the cup and brushed my thumb over her right cheek. “See, we do have a past.”

  I rolled the handle of the paring knife in my fingers as I paced the room and Sara slept. I should have been sleeping too, but I couldn’t. My mind couldn’t settle from the whirlwind of thoughts. Though I hated what Thomas had done to her, the knife made me smile. I hadn’t been able to believe it when she removed it from her boot. It was obviously the reason I’d thought she was walking oddly, why I was worried that he’d hurt her sexually. She was so much braver than I knew.

  I’d finally gotten the nerve to ask her the question that had eaten at me since my call with Raquel. I’d asked whether she was pregnant. Her answer made me feel neither better nor worse. She said she didn’t know. It had been only three weeks since her last period, which she said was too early to know. I wasn’t sure whether that was totally accurate. Though it’d been three years since I’d watched television—yes, even while in motels, I didn’t; I wanted to stay in Jacob mode—I seemed to remember commercials that talked about home pregnancy tests that could determine results earlier than that. With her sound asleep, I considered driving to a store to buy one, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to know.

  We’d talked about so much, but I’d never posed the question that the morning would require. Once she ate the fast food we’d gone together to get and began yawning, I’d decided it could wait. Obviously the future was something neither one of us was ready to tackle. However, we’d done a bang-up job on our past. Maybe it was because it was relatively short, but we’d covered nearly everything, and I’d done my best to explain the whys behind each decision. The time of forbidding her questioning was over. For there to be a chance at a future, she needed to understand everything. The change in dynamic was refreshing yet unsettling. The conditioned man from The Light wanted to take control and tell her what to do. The man I had once been, and hoped to be again, appreciated a partner, not a submissive.

  Sara wasn’t the only one who felt like two different people. My two perspectives had me torn.

  I didn’t want to ask her to come back to The Light. It was too dangerous. Then again, the idea of never seeing her again created a void I couldn’t imagine navigating. There was a reason agents stayed unattached. Lying in the bed, in nothing more than her bra and panties, was that reason. No, it wasn’t that I’d waited for Sara. It was that I fucking hated having an Achilles’ heel.

  She made me more vulnerable. For that reason alone I should forgo asking and just tell Special Agent Adler that she’d said no. Then I should kiss her good-bye and let her walk away into witness protection. She’d be blissfully unaware of the repercussions, but I’d be confident of her safety.

  Sitting at the table, I laid my head on my arms. With my eyes closed, I tried reassuring myself that the entire three years weren’t a bust. My testimony alone could put Father Gabriel, the three Commissions, and the three Assemblies away for a long time. They all knew something. It wasn’t as if each individual knew the extent of the wrongdoings. Hell, I hadn’t even known about the entire pharmaceutical scheme until recently. But once this was over, deciphering the details and determining the extent of each person’s involvement wouldn’t be up to me. It would be up to others in the FBI and then the judicial system.

  The idea of putting all those men behind bars made me think about the wives and other followers. As the fast food churned in my gut, I feared that if the timing was off—at all—if all the raids didn’t happen at the exact same time, Father Gabriel had an escape plan and would use it. The only part of his plan I knew for sure was that it involved flying to an unknown destination. What concerned me was the fate of those he would leave behind. Every day, as I became closer and closer to people like Raquel and Benjamin, I feared more for their safety. I’d never been told of a mass suicide plan, but I was terrified one might be in place.

  Sara’s hand landed on my shoulder. I hadn’t even heard her get up.

  “Why aren’t you asleep?” she asked.

  I covered her hand with mine. “Investigative journalist, huh?”

  She walked in front of me, wrapping herself in a blanket she’d found in the top of the closet. Though the lights were off, with the soft glow of a night-light from the bathroom, I watched as she covered her bra and panties. “Yes,” she replied, sheepishly adding, “I’m good at asking questions.”

  “Too good.”

  “So why aren’t you sleeping? You were the one who said we had a long day.”

  I took a deep breath. “I’m thinking about tomorrow.”

  “Tell me.”

  “I can’t.”

  Her volume rose. “I thought you said no more secrets.”

  “I can’t tell you, because it’s not up to me, and if it were, I can’t decide what I’d choose.”

  She sat on the edge of the bed. “You’re saying that tomorrow is my decision? Then give me my options.”

  I sat back and ran my hands over my face. My normal scruff had grown longer and softer. “Number one, we say good-bye to each other and you’re taken to someplace safe. I’m leaning toward that option, by the way.” I didn’t know how far I was leaning that way, but her being safe outweighed the alternative.

  She nodded. “You want to say good-bye?”

  “No, Sara, I want you safe.”

  “And option number two?” she asked.

  “Number two, we go back to the Northern Light and resume our lives.”

  “Option two means that you get to continue your assignment and keep working to bring down Father Gabriel?”

  I nodded.

  “What happens to Father Gabriel if I choose option one?”

  “Well, right now he’s at the Eastern Light.”

  “In that huge-ass mansion in Bloomfield Hills?”

  “Jesus, you know about that too? Don’t tell me Richards took you there.”

  “No! He didn’t even know that I knew about it.” She shrugged. “I guess he did know I knew about the house. I remember him being with me when I looked it up on Google Earth, but the way I figured it out had to do with a trail of ownership. I deduced that Father Gabriel was really Gabriel Clark, son of Marcel Clarkson.”

  I stared in amazement as she recounted the accurate information. No doubt The Light had taken her before she could expose them. More accurately, Richards had handed her over before she could expose The Light. As she finished speaking, she asked, “So what happens to Father Gabriel?”

  “If you choose option one, the FBI will move as soon as it can. They want their raids coordinated. If neither of us returns to the Northern Light, those in control will undoubtedly get suspicious. I don’t know the particulars. There’s a lot I’m still learning, but I suspect the Commission on each campus has a plan in case of discovery.”

  “What kind of plan?”

  “Like I said, I don’t know.”

  Sara stood and paced, the blanket falling from her shoulder, revealing the satin strap of her white bra. “A plan, like Jones’s Kool-Aid?”

  “It’s not your concern. You didn’t ask for any of this.”

  “What about all the followers? What about our friends, the women who didn’t ask to be there? What about the children?”

  I shook my head. “That’s not how this works. I can’t pick and choose. I can hope the raids happen before the Commissions figure it out. I mean, they all have to be timed perfectly.”

  “But you said you don’t know it all. Why can’t you go back without me?”

  “Because I can’t explain your disappearance. If I show up without you, they’ll go after you. That’s why you can’t go back to your life. You have to go into witness protection.”

  “What? Wait! That’s what you mean by me being safe? No way. No fucking way.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose as I fought the urge to bring attention to her insolent tone and vulgar language. “Excuse me?”

  “I said no.”


  Standing, I towered over her petite frame. “I’m not risking your safety. Besides, what if you’re . . .” I motioned toward her midsection.

  “Then you’re going to send me away to have a new identity, like two aren’t enough? And you’re never going to see me or our baby again?”

  “What the hell? Ten hours ago you were trying to call Richards. Would you have let him raise my kid?”

  She crossed her arms over her breasts. “Ten hours ago I thought you were some whacked-out Light fanatic who’d kidnapped and assaulted me. And with that profile, hell yes, I wanted to get away from you.”

  “Light fanatic?” I asked with a hint of amusement.

  She snickered. “Besides, I’m not pregnant.”

  “What? I thought you said it was too early?”

  “It is, officially. I mean I don’t know. So we shouldn’t base anything off the unknown. Talk to me about what we do know.” Before I could answer, she continued, “Let me start. If I don’t go back with you, the FBI will raid all three campuses . . . today? Father Gabriel is in the big-ass mansion, which is probably one of the worst places to catch him, and if the raids aren’t perfectly timed, there’s the chance of Kool-Aid?”

  I shrugged. “No confirmation on Kool-Aid.”

  “If I go back, we continue to live as we did. We continue to gather evidence to bring down Father Gabriel, otherwise known as Garrison Clarkson, and The Light. And we give the FBI more time to coordinate the raids.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “There’s no we. There’s me. The FBI can’t ask a civilian to enter into an investigation.”

  She smiled.

  At that moment, I wasn’t looking at Sara but at Stella. Though her cheek was battered, the beautiful woman before me exuded confidence. With a sexy smile, she dropped the blanket and moved closer. Pushing me back to the chair, she spread my knees apart, walked directly in front of me, and bent closer, until our noses nearly touched. With the mounds of her breasts peeking from her bra and a sultry tone, she whispered, “I don’t think it’s the FBI who’s asking me.” Her finger traced my jawline, burning my skin with her touch. “I think it’s me saying I want to do this.” Continuing her assault, she gently teased the collar of my shirt. “It’s me, volunteering to keep your mission going.” Placing her petite hands on my shoulders, she moved her lips closer to mine. “Tell me, Jacoby, do you really want to send me away?”

  I am so fucking screwed!

  CHAPTER 13

  Stella/Sara

  Jacoby didn’t answer my question, but by the expression on his face, I knew I was winning this battle of wills. It was the power I’d learned I possessed months ago. Despite his dominance, there had been times when I had control. Now I wanted to use that power to help him and his mission. I’d told him things I knew about The Light; now I wanted to know all he knew—there were still so many questions. Nevertheless, I was confident that together we could do this. We could bring Gabriel Clarkson’s world crashing down, and I prayed we could do it without Kool-Aid or any other plan that would have catastrophic results.

  I knew that Jacob and I could help each other. But there was something I needed to do first. “I want to call my parents and let them know I’m alive.”

  Jacob sighed. “If you choose witness protection, they’ll help you with that.”

  I stood and pulled the blanket tighter. “I don’t want witness protection. But I can’t not tell them or”—I didn’t know how Jacob would respond—“Dylan.”

  His stare darkened. “It’s not up to me. You can’t.”

  “It’s not up to you? You’re right. It’s up to me. I need to call. My parents probably think I’m dead. My mom could call Dina Rosemont, my friend Mindy’s mom, and then they’d have hope.”

  Jacob shook his head. “I don’t know who you’re talking about, but this is why witness protection is best.”

  “How long would we need to be back? Days? Weeks? Months?”

  “As short as possible. Just long enough for the FBI to get organized on the raids. The best possible scenario is for all three campuses to be raided at the exact same time.”

  I pressed my lips together. “I don’t like it—not calling—but I understand.”

  I did. Though Jacob had lied in the past, as we’d talked, I’d understood both his motivation and the reason I couldn’t call. I even believed that he’d protected me and that our collective success had been contingent upon the success of each of us.

  When I brushed my lips against his, his dark eyes widened suspiciously.

  I tried for my most innocent Sara expression. “What?” I sat back on the bed and faced him. “Will you tell me a few things, a few things about The Light?”

  “I told you, I’d tell you anything you want to know.”

  “How many of the women, wives, came to The Light like I did?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve only been there for three years, but as a pilot I see more than most. After all, the women have to get to the Northern Light or Western Light somehow.”

  My stomach rolled as I scrunched my nose and lowered my chin. “Oh, God.” My words sounded more like a cry. “Y-you transported them—us?”

  “Micah and I.” He reached for my hands. “Sara, remember why. Remember my goal. I had to gain Father Gabriel’s trust. No follower has ever obtained the Assembly in as short of a time as I did. It was because, well”—he sighed—“I convinced them I had PTSD. I convinced them all that I reveled in the structure of The Light, and I thrived following and giving orders.”

  My eyes narrowed. “But you knew what you were doing.” Suddenly cold, I released his hands and tightened the blanket around myself. “It’s human trafficking.”

  He nodded.

  No denial or even regret.

  Shaking my head, I stood. “I’ve been struggling with what are real memories and what aren’t, but one thing I remember vividly, not only from what I’ve lived but also from what I believe I recall from my research of The Light, was”—I walked to the bed, turned on a lamp, and returned to Jacob. Then I deliberately held out my hand, fingertips up—“this. I was looking for something to tie everything together.” I rubbed the tips of my fingers against my thumb. “Women were showing up in the Wayne County Morgue, and their only connection was the burned fingertips. Actually, there were even a few men who had them.”

  Jacob rolled his hands. I knew his were the same as mine. It was why when my eyes were covered I’d thought his hands were callused. They weren’t, not really. It was the roughness of his acid-burned fingertips. “What are you asking?”

  “Were those people, those dead people, ones who were banished?”

  He nodded. “Some of them. The Eastern Light is the entry point, the place for visitors’ assembly. There are also informational hubs that are set up around the country. The Assembly at the Eastern Light is proficient at follower acquisition. They decide who can and can’t join. Believe it or not, people are turned down.”

  I shook my head. “Are there really that many willing to join?”

  Jacob nodded. “That was why, when I approached The Light, I had to stand out as a good recruit. The FBI chose me for this assignment not only based on my success in other undercover missions but also based on my history and my lack of family commitment.”

  I sank back to the bed.

  Oh my God! I’d never considered that he might be married to someone else. Obviously my expression gave away my thoughts.

  “You didn’t ask,” he said, “but I wanted you to know. I’m not married, as Jacoby McAlister. I never have been.”

  I nodded, unable to do more.

  “I was also chosen for the assignment,” he went on, “because of my real-life military experience. I handled my transition from military to law enforcement well, but I know of others, I have friends, or had them, that didn’t. I studied what they went through and like I said, I was able to become a veteran with PTSD. As Father Gabriel’s pilot, I had more access to him than other
s. I didn’t take advantage of that—on the surface. I never questioned—”

  My brows rose.

  He smiled. “Yes, in case you didn’t know, questioning is frowned upon in The Light.”

  “Really?” I said in my best sarcastic voice.

  This time his brows rose. “And so is being a smart-ass to your husband.”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  He went on, “I did what I was told to do by Father Gabriel, my overseer, members of the Commission, everyone. Eventually, Father Gabriel began asking me questions about my past. Slowly I wove the story I’d given at the Eastern Light, and it worked. With time I was given more and more responsibilities. Each step in the hierarchy of The Light was a test. At first I only flew with Micah, and then together we flew Father Gabriel from campus to campus. Then I was trusted alone to gather supplies, often coming here to Fairbanks. The first time I was told to transport acquired members, I expected it to be like when I was taken to the Northern Light. I was among seven individuals who’d all come willingly into The Light. Initially there were more in our group; however, only seven went to the Northern Light. We were told that some didn’t perform to The Light’s requirements and were banished. That term has always implied the ultimate punishment.

  “We were also told some went to a different campus. Followers don’t know how many campuses exist, other than that the Eastern Light is the point of entry, and, of course, they learn about the campus where they’re assigned. Most people who come willingly are men or couples. Rarely do women join of their own accord. Yet some do.”

  “Elizabeth,” I said.

  Jacob nodded. “Luke told me that, but she joined before me, so I don’t know anything about that.”

  I looked down.

  “What?” he asked.

  “I believe I know more about that, about her twin sister, but I’d rather hear what you have to say first. Please keep going.”

  He took a deep breath. “The operations at the other campuses are different. Men are needed for physical labor. Women are needed for other tasks, but primarily to keep men content.”