Away From the Dark (The Light #2)

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Away From the Dark (The Light #2) Page 11

by Aleatha Romig


  I clenched my teeth.

  Jacob shook his head. “I’m not saying I agree with the philosophy. I’m telling you, honestly, that it’s the mind-set of the Commission. The Light needs men. At the Northern Light they’re needed to work the production of the pharmaceuticals, to load the merchandise, to work the power plant, I could go on and on—to build buildings, the exterior walls, and fences.” His eyes opened wide. “It’s a huge operation. Women do some of that work too, as well as female jobs like day care, laundry, cooking. Mostly they’re there to provide men with what they need.”

  “It’s so fucking sexist.”

  He lifted one of his eyebrows. “You’re an investigative journalist, and you just now realized that?”

  I pursed my lips. “No, I figured it out as Sara. What I don’t understand is how I was OK with it.” I shook my head. “Because as much as I hate it at this moment, two weeks ago I didn’t.”

  “That’s because we all worked to condition you. Assuming we’re going back, if we were to end up there longer than a few days or weeks, the time will come when you’re expected to help condition others. It’s required. Refusing isn’t an option, not without punishment and possible banishment. The community as a whole works to welcome new members, no matter how they’re obtained. Working together is essential to keeping it all running. In some ways you’ve already done it. The women you meet with, you’re conditioning them to accept the way of The Light and Father Gabriel’s word.”

  I didn’t want to think about that—about how I’d helped. “Tell me about the women in the morgue.”

  Jacob’s shoulder rose and fell. “I wasn’t at the Eastern Light for very long. I progressed fast and the Northern Light happened to have an opening for a pilot.”

  “Happened?”

  “I don’t know. I really don’t,” he reassured me. “I assume the one before me was banished, but I’ve never been told. The only people who know are the Commission, and I can’t question them.”

  “Have you asked anyone on the Assembly? It seems like you’re close with Brothers Benjamin and Luke.”

  “We are, but no. I can’t let my assignment affect Jacob’s behavior. If I did . . . if I became too inquisitive, it would make people leery.”

  “Dead women?” I asked again.

  “Like I said, The Light needs women, not just for sex, but for jobs that men are too busy to do. It’s the Eastern Light’s responsibility to determine if the women that are chosen or who volunteer will be able to handle it. Once they’re brought into The Light, if it’s determined they aren’t fit to be a follower, they’re removed.”

  “Does that only happen at the Eastern Light?”

  “No, but that’s where most of it happens. However, every new believer has a probationary period.”

  “Do you dispose of bodies at the Northern Light?”

  “Me personally? No.”

  “But it happens?”

  He nodded.

  “That first time you were asked to transport followers, they weren’t willing participants, were they?”

  “No.”

  “Women?”

  “Yes, all five of them.”

  I seriously thought I might be ill. “What happened once they got to the Northern Light?”

  “You know what happened. You lived through it.”

  “I’ve been asking questions, since I started having memories. It seems like many women have similar stories.”

  “Similar, but they vary,” he admitted. “The similarities are injuries. For many they occur at the Eastern Light. It’s part of the process to see how well they adapt. The main component is lack of sight. It’s been determined that loss of vision is an essential psychological factor in making the new follower dependent upon her husband.”

  A tear slid down my cheek as I stood. “Well,” I said, walking to the end of the bed. “I guess I should congratulate whoever put the plan together. It works.”

  Jacob came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. Leather and musk fell over us as I laid my head back against his chest. “I’ll tell you I’m sorry forever, but I know it’ll never be enough.”

  I turned into his warm embrace. The steady beat of his heart comforted me, as it had over the last nine months. Keeping my cheek against his soft shirt, I asked, “Is it still my decision, if I go back?”

  “Yes.”

  “I was all ready to say yes. I mean, I want to help. I want Father Gabriel to be brought down . . .”

  “But now?” His chest vibrated with his words.

  I shook my head as tears began to freely flow. “It’s so wrong, so perverse. I’m not sure I can watch other women suffer, like I did, or help condition them. The fact I already have sickens me.”

  “People like Raquel and Deborah, at the clinic, are very good at it.”

  I nodded, the feeling of betrayal slicing deep inside me. “I thought Raquel was my friend.”

  Jacob grasped my shoulders and held me at arm’s length. Looking deep into my puffy eyes, he said, “She is. Don’t doubt that. She’s the reason I found you. She risked punishment to save you.”

  “To bring me back. I’m not sure it’s saving me.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Listen to me.” His even tone held an edge of harshness. “Raquel didn’t know what kind of man Thomas was, but by getting you away from him, she saved you. What she does know, what she’s the most concerned about, is what would’ve happened if The Light found you. She risked her own well-being to save your life. Her lies were no more malicious than mine. She isn’t undercover, but she believes. Like many of the others, she sincerely believes that what she’s doing is for the greater good. She only wanted your success.”

  My chin fell to my chest. “It’s just so hard to wrap my mind around.” I looked back up. When his grip loosened and his arms again surrounded me, I fell back against his chest. “I have so many more questions.”

  He led me to the bed. “We need to leave this room in a couple of hours. One way or the other. Either we’re both going with the FBI or we’re both going back to The Light. No matter your decision, we should try to get some rest.”

  I lay back down, the blanket still wrapped around me, and Jacob covered me with the bed’s cover. As I settled against the pillow, I asked, “What if I’d been given to someone like Abraham?”

  Jacob’s neck straightened and the vein along the side pulsated. He didn’t speak, only shook his head.

  “How can you watch that and transport women knowing that they could end up like that?”

  He kissed my forehead. “I’ll need your answer when I wake you.”

  I swallowed my tears. “Will you please lie here with me?”

  “Sara?”

  “Please, I know it isn’t fair. I meant what I said about sex, but I have no idea what I’m going to do.” I sniffled. “All I know is I want you near me right now.”

  Jacob sighed and climbed onto the other side of the bed. Scooting closer, he wrapped his arm around my shoulder, and I nuzzled against his chest.

  “I had images of the two of us saving them all,” I said, “but that’s not what’s going to happen, is it?”

  His chest moved with his answer. “No. There will most likely be casualties.”

  “But I can’t go back to my life . . . either. Can I? I mean to my life as Stella?”

  “No, I’m sorry . . .”

  I closed my eyes and refused to listen to the rest of his apology. He was right. He could say it a million times and it wouldn’t be sufficient. Though he’d done his best for me, there were others, so many others, and he’d had a hand in their fate. For three years he’d transported unconscious women across the country to enslave them in a life they never wanted or imagined in their wildest dreams. It wasn’t as if The Light were a horrific orgy. There were specific rules about the sanctity of marriage, yet it was all a farce. The marriages weren’t real. Unless . . .

  My head popped up. “Wait. Is Father Gabriel really a minister, like ordai
ned?”

  “Yes. He has to be, for tax purposes. He’s the head of a church.”

  “Then . . . does he marry the women—” I jumped to my real question: “Are we really married?”

  His embrace loosened as he sighed. “He does. I mean he did. There wasn’t a ceremony as such, but he married Jacob Adams to Sara, making you Sara Adams. I’m not Jacob Adams and you’re not Sara.”

  Using my thumb, I turned my wedding band. “I’m so confused. I wish I still hated you.”

  “You should.”

  I agreed, I should, but I didn’t. “Will I ever know what’s real and what’s been conditioned into me?”

  “Take option one. There are people who help with deprogramming. They’ll work with you; they’ll help you.”

  “Will they help the others?”

  “All that they can.”

  The motel room fell into an eerie silence; only the hum of the heating unit near the window made noise. It was our reminder that time was passing, the tick-tock telling us that our clock was running. Someone else had wound it up, and neither of us could make it stop.

  As I lay in his embrace, sleep stayed out of reach. Despite his even breaths, I was certain that Jacob couldn’t sleep either. My mind was in a constant battle. I didn’t know if it was Sara versus Stella, or the desire to help Jacob and our friends while bringing down a tyrant versus walking away. All I knew was that I was walking a figurative fence, each thought pulling me from one side to the other. No matter where I landed, Stella was gone, and the pain of that loss was paralyzing.

  There was also the man with his arm around me.

  Did I love him, or was I only conditioned to love him? Did I dare think about Dylan?

  Dylan and I hadn’t been that serious, yet it had been more serious than I’d ever been—than Stella had ever been. A tear fell onto Jacob’s chest as I remembered Dylan’s warnings about Highland Heights. He’d lost his parents and now he’d lost me. The ripples continued to move further and further away.

  After everything that Jacob had done, I decided I couldn’t leave him without giving him the one thing he’d asked for. Wiping my tears, I sat up and said, “Are you awake?”

  “Yes.”

  “You asked me for something earlier. You asked me to tell you that I understood why you did what you did.” I lifted his hand, intertwined our fingers, and kissed his knuckles, as he’d done to me over and over. “It’s totally fucked up, but I do. I don’t think I could’ve asked for a better husband. I mean if this was my fate, predetermined for whatever reason, I’m not sorry I was assigned to you, Jacoby. I believe that you made it as good as it could be.”

  Jacob sighed. “Jacoby?”

  “Yes, thank you. I know it could’ve been a lot worse.” Did he understand what I wasn’t saying?

  His chin fell. “God, I’m going to miss you.”

  I swallowed the emotion forming a lump in my throat. Witness protection was best. I needed to face that. “Will the FBI . . . will I be able to contact you if I’m . . . ?”

  I was so stupid. Why the hell had I risked getting pregnant?

  “Not me. They won’t allow it. But since it happened as part of a sting operation, I believe there’s some kind of financial—”

  I sat straighter. “Stop!”

  His eyes opened wide. “What?”

  “I’m not asking you for money! Is that what you think this is about?”

  “No . . . no . . . that’s not what I meant. I just mean, you’ll need to be able to provide . . .”

  I threw back the covers and stood. I was a fucking wreck. One minute I was sad, the next I was mad. I wanted to go back. I didn’t want to go back. I loved Jacob and I’d miss him. I hated him and I never wanted to see him again.

  Holding my head, I paced along the side of the bed.

  “Sara, come lie down.”

  “No! I feel like I’m going to jump out of my skin. I don’t know who the hell I am, or even what I feel.” In the darkened room, Jacob sat up against the headboard, but he didn’t try to speak, to tell me who I was or what I should feel.

  Part of me wanted him to do that.

  The Sara part.

  That was the part of me that was conditioned to do exactly what my husband said, what he wanted, even before he said it.

  “Damn you!” I screamed.

  His shadow didn’t flinch.

  “Did you hear me? I hate this! It might not be your doing, and I may have forgiven you your role, but it was still you!”

  “I wasn’t . . .”

  “I know,” I interrupted, “you didn’t choose me. You didn’t even want a wife, but it was you who made it all right. If you were Abraham, I could easily walk away.”

  His head moved from side to side. “You’re right,” he said sadly, “I’m so fucking sorry I tried to make it the best I could for you.” His tone evened as he stood from the bed. “Maybe that’s all you need to push you over the edge into making the right decision.” Each word came forth with less and less emotion. Walking toward me, he reached for his belt. “You’ve always been smart. It scared the shit out of me, but this time, I thank you. You just gave me the goddamn answer.”

  My breathing quickened as I backed away and he unlatched the buckle. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “What I fucking promised I’d never do.”

  “No way! Don’t do this. It’s not you.”

  He pulled his belt from the loops, one at a time, the sound echoing through the room. “Don’t worry, Sara, I think you’ll have your decision soon.”

  I swallowed and stepped backward away from the bed until my back bumped into the vanity at the end of the room. His dark form moved closer. By the light of the night-light, I watched as he ran the length of his belt through his hands.

  “Jacob, don’t do this.”

  In the semidarkness, the belt dangling from his left hand reminded me of a whip. It didn’t take a stretch of my imagination to see it that way. To my left was the door to the bathroom containing the shower and toilet. I lunged for it, making it inside as Jacob’s foot entered the jamb. Though I pushed with all my might, I couldn’t shut the door.

  “Come out here. It’s time to prepare.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Jacob/Jacoby

  “You can’t do this,” Sara yelled from the small bathroom. Her volume decreased as she surrendered the door and sank down onto the closed toilet seat.

  She was wrong, I could do it. I couldn’t do it out of anger. That was Father Gabriel’s teaching, but I could do it, as her husband it was my right. Besides, her bravery was nothing more than stupidity. Three fucking years of work down the damn drain because she wanted a baby. She didn’t have the right to make that kind of decision, not in The Light. That was up to me. Punishment for that alone was justified.

  Opening the door, I narrowed my gaze, and worked to speak calmly. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

  The blue that stared up at me, veiled by the bowed head and long lashes, would haunt me forever, but I knew what I was doing. Sara couldn’t go back and neither could I. The operation was over. It was up to me to make her feel right about leaving me and about telling me to go to hell.

  She didn’t need to tell me, because without her and our possible child, I’d be in hell—figuratively as well as literally. As I fought my own fight against my three years of personal conditioning, I was standing at the entrance to fire and brimstone. The twisting in my stomach told me it was a one-way door.

  I stood silently watching the conflict between the two women inside her as it continued to rage. With each ticking second it was as if I could see both individuals. Slowly Stella was relinquishing control to Sara. This was, after all, Sara’s world; nevertheless, Stella wouldn’t go away quietly. Even as Sara’s shoulders rolled forward, Stella spoke.

  “Fuck you,” she muttered.

  I shook my head. “Vulgarity was never a real problem at the Northern Light, but I’ve had quite enough for tonight
.”

  “Too fucking bad!” Stella’s eyes sent daggers through my heart. “I was wrong to accept your apology. You’re an asshole!”

  I reached for her arm. “Sara, stand.” As I pulled her to her feet, she looked back down at the ground. “Tell me, how many lashes per transgression?”

  Her jaw clenched as she fought with herself to answer. Finally she whispered, “Five.”

  “Now tell me how many times you’ve used vulgarities tonight.”

  Her body trembled in my grasp, yet when her eyes fluttered back to mine, her neck straightened with defiance. Raising her chin, she spoke clearly and resolutely. “If you fucking do this, I will press charges. I’ll tell the FBI what a whack-job they have for an agent.”

  Undeterred by her threat, I smirked. “Remove your underwear.”

  “Fuck you,” she whispered, lowering her chin again to her chest.

  I straightened my neck and spoke as I’d been trained to do, as I’d trained others to do. “Vulgarity and disobedience are only two transgressions. I’ve heard you use two vulgarities in the last thirty seconds. As always, the severity of your correction is at my discretion.” I grabbed the waist of her panties and pushed them down. Spinning her around, I unlatched her bra and pulled the straps from her arms. “I recommend you stop saying any more before I decide to give you the accurate number of lashes.”

  “Jacob, please don’t do this.” She spun back, her firm breasts pressing against my chest, as she appealed with her gorgeous blue eyes. The left one was a stark contrast, the color of her iris so light compared to the purpled skin surrounding it. Her cheeks were sprouting red blotches as we stood. When I narrowed my gaze, she obediently turned back around. However, her stare never left mine, now glaring at me through the reflection of the mirror. She gripped the edge of the vanity and asked, “Please . . . why?”

  I ran the length of the leather through my hands, not allowing myself to sense the despair seeping from her every pore. “Enough questioning.”

  Her lips came together, forming a straight line. She didn’t need her mouth to tell me her thoughts. I saw both the pleas and the insults shooting from her eyes.

 

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