Through the Ashes (The Light Book 2)

by Jacqueline Brown

  My eyes filled before I understood what was happening. Was that my home or was this? Trent would let me stay. He would ask me to, I knew that. Here I was loved by a man who was not going to be a priest. Here I could take hot showers and wear clean clothes. I could eat brownies and seasoned food I didn’t have to kill. Here I would not have to fear the winter; Trent would never allow me to freeze. I’d have everything I could ever want with him.

  I shook my head, staring into the mirror … muscular shoulders, cheekbones high beneath my thin face. I dressed in the clothes Trent had given me: pants made of heavy green canvas and a gray, long-sleeved shirt. I looked like I could pass for someone in the military. Perhaps someday I would enlist.

  I left the bathroom. My friends sat on the loveseat and the bed. Jonah looked at me from his place on the floor then quickly looked away. His sister sat next to him, their backs against the bed.

  “Who’s next?” I asked, water dripping from my hair.

  Jonah didn’t look up and neither did East.

  Blaise pushed herself from the bed, a stack of clothes in her hands. She pulled Josh with her. “We are,” she said.

  When she stood in front of me, she stopped. “Don’t lose yourself. Not again,” she said, staring into my eyes.

  I tried to smile, to pretend it was a joke of some sort, but she didn’t return the smile and neither did Josh. East and Sara watched the exchange and said nothing. They all thought I was going to lose myself to Trent, to this place. I looked at Jonah. He raised his head and our eyes met. I had to bite my lip to keep the emotion from escaping.

  “Oh, good, you’re out of the shower.”

  I blinked and inhaled. I turned to see Trent standing in the hallway, the small waves in his hair more visible when his hair was wet.

  “Do you mind coming with me? There’s something I want to show you,” he said, holding his hand out to me.

  “Okay,” I said, taking his hand.

  He led me to the master bedroom, pulling me toward French doors, leading me onto the balcony. The cool night air lifted the ends of my damp hair. I freed my hand from his and pulled my hair down, draping it across one shoulder.

  In the distance, beams of light shone into the sky, like blades cutting the darkness.

  “What are they?” I asked, staring in disbelief.

  “Spotlights. They’re at the White House,” he said.

  “So, we still have a White House and people in it?” I asked.

  “Of course,” he said. “Our country is strong and soon we will be stronger than ever.”

  “It seems like we have a long way to go to get to where we were, let alone stronger,” I said, looking at the night sky.

  The buildings around us were dark, with the exception of a few lanterns in windows.

  “Don’t you see? We already are,” he said, taking my hands, his white teeth practically glowing in the moonlight.

  “We already are?”

  “Yes. Those who were sick and weak have not survived. We can go forward in strength. People, weak people, had too much freedom before. Not everyone can think for themselves, not everyone should be allowed to. Those of us in power now, understand that. We will not make the same mistakes as our predecessors.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

  “What do you mean, mistakes?” Surely, I misunderstood what he was trying to say. He could not be suggesting what it seemed.

  “Think about it, Bria. Think of all the people who were physically or mentally weak, all the people that cost our country so much. They were burdens that didn’t contribute and could have never survived on their own. Now they’re gone. We can go forward without them weighing our country down. And we will never allow them to bring us down again.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, my mind swirling, his words making no sense.

  “Things won’t be as relaxed as before. People who shouldn’t be having kids won’t be. People who are old or frail or disabled, they will be allowed to pass quickly and peacefully. Their lives held no value, yet for some reason we allowed them to live. It made no sense before, but now we’re free. Free to create the greatest country in the history of the world.”

  The confusion was gone. His words enveloped me like a blanket of ice.

  “Are you cold?” he asked, concern in his voice. His hands rubbed my shaking shoulders.

  “Yes, a little,” I lied.

  “I’ll get you some warmer clothes tomorrow. You’ll have whatever you want,” he said, staring into my eyes.

  Fighting to keep my voice calm, I said, “You know you can’t control who lives and dies or who has kids and who doesn’t.”

  “That’s what makes this so perfect! We control everything now. If people want food, water, medicine, they must work for it and they must do as we say.”

  “And what if they don’t?” I asked, trying to hide the indignation and fear rising within me.

  “They can leave the settlements or starve. It’s their choice, but as the country gets stronger we will extend our control beyond the settlements. When that happens, we will have the strongest, smartest, healthiest citizens in the world. In the future, this attack will be seen as the best thing that ever happened to our country.” His eyes shone with pride and determination.

  I turned away to hide the disgust in mine. I wasn’t sure which was more disturbing, the words he spoke or the feeling he spoke them with. He believed every word he said. He believed some people’s lives were more valuable than others. He would’ve seen Pops and even Nonie as a waste, a burden.

  I stared blankly at the spotlights dissecting the darkness behind him. I needed to get away from him, to get my friends away from him. We couldn’t support what he was doing or how he saw the world. And I knew that in this new world, differing beliefs would not be acceptable. We either thought as he and those in power did or we were in danger. Somehow, we had to find Sara’s family and get out.

  He pulled my chin toward him so our eyes met. His were an almost iridescent blue. I used to think they were the prettiest I’d ever seen, and I’d stare at them for as long as he’d let me. Now their iridescence reminded me of glass. Easily shattered, easily replaceable.

  “You look beautiful, Bria, more beautiful than ever.”

  I forced a faint smile.

  “We made a good couple before. But we were young. In these last few months I’ve grown more than in all the years before. I know now that I want someone I can call my own. Someone who will be by my side always. Someone who is worthy to be my wife.”

  Blood rushed to my face, the pounding of my heart in my ears making it difficult to hear.

  “When I came to DC all those months ago, I came to ask your father if I could marry you. To be honest, I wasn’t sure if that was really what was best for me long-term. But as they say, we looked good on paper, and at the time, I guess that’s all that really mattered to me. But when the EMP detonated, I realized that it was because of you that my life was spared. I promised myself if I ever saw you again, I would finish what I came here to do. Looking at you now I see you for who I always knew you could be. You are strong and beautiful. No other woman can compare to you.”

  From his pocket, he pulled a small velvet box and opened it to reveal a two-carat diamond ring encircled with quarter-carat diamonds.

  The ring was exactly what I would’ve picked out a lifetime ago—in fact, it was. I saw it in the window of a jewelry store when Trent and I were strolling near my father’s apartment one day last summer. I made Trent stop to look at it. He said there was no way he was getting married before he was thirty and that I would need to lose at least ten pounds before any man would ask me to marry him. I tried to explain that I didn’t want to get married, and just thought the ring was pretty. He rolled his eyes and kept walking.

  Now, staring at the ring, I felt fear rise within me. Where I’d once seen beauty, I saw only danger.

  Trent dropped to one knee. My heart raced and my thoughts spun.

  “Bria Ford, will y
ou be my wife?”

  Twenty-Two

  I stared at the small crystal chandelier. Sara lay beside me on the hardwood floor. Blaise and Josh were above us on the bed. The room was filled with soft, rhythmic breathing. It would be daylight soon, and I hadn’t slept.

  Jonah was already on the family room couch when I left Trent’s room last night. I wanted to talk to him, but knew I shouldn’t. My friends said practically nothing to me when I came to bed. They had made up their minds about Trent a long time ago. I realized now they were right. But I couldn’t tell them. Not here in this place, with Trent so near.

  I knew before that he looked down on those who were not as wealthy, educated, or physically and emotionally strong as he was. He used to tell me the extra weight I carried made me weak and showed I had no willpower. He’d always been in favor of things like abortion and euthanasia, not because he cared about those making the decisions, but because he believed the unwanted and the frail were nothing but a drain on society. I never liked these things about him, but I told myself his beliefs about such things didn’t matter. He had no power and many others opposed those who thought as he did. But now it seemed as if no one was there to stop him or the others who thought the same.

  He’d asked me to stay the night with him. I could see the hurt and anger when I told him no. I never told him no before. I told him I needed time to think about his proposal and couldn’t do that with him around. He tried to convince me, but I refused to change my mind. I couldn’t. The thought of being with him repulsed me.

  I spent the night telling myself that he’d changed, that he wasn’t like this when we were together, that he loved me and would take care of me. But as the first rays of light crept into the room, I knew none of that was true. It was me who changed. He had simply become more himself.

  I sat up, careful not to wake Sara as she slept beside me. I opened the bedroom door and turned my head left. I allowed a small sigh of relief to escape when I saw the closed door to Trent’s room. He wasn’t awake yet. I didn’t know what I would tell him. I didn’t want to hurt him; he didn’t deserve that, but I couldn’t spend my life with him.

  I turned toward the kitchen. The drapes were open in the family room, the faint light of day coming in through the windows. East lay sleeping on the couch. She looked so peaceful, so much like Quinn. I missed her and wanted to go home.

  Jonah sat alone at the kitchen table. I wondered if he’d speak to me, or if I should walk away.

  “I’m not mad,” he whispered.

  My heart raced at the sound of his voice. “What?” I said, going to the table and sitting across from him.

  “I’m not mad. I get that you were with him, that you are with him. I just—”

  “I’m not,” I said, shaking my head. “I mean, I was and he thinks I am, but I’m not.”

  “But yesterday. What about ….” He lowered his head, then lifted it. “You kissed him.”

  My heart broke at the hurt that encompassed Jonah. I knew I owed him nothing; we weren’t together and he wanted to be a priest, so what I did or didn’t do with someone else shouldn’t matter. But I knew it did.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, hoping he could hear the sincerity in my voice. “I was caught off guard. I thought Trent was dead. And then this man that I used to love—or at least thought I did—was there standing beside me. I felt so many things I never expected to feel, things I wasn’t prepared to feel.”

  He unfolded his arms and sat a little straighter. “You don’t have to explain. I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s not like ….” He looked down.

  “Like what?” I asked, lowering my head, trying to make eye contact with him.

  He cleared his throat. “Like we’re together.”

  His eyes locked onto mine, and my heart beat so fast I thought it would jump from my chest. “No, I guess we aren’t,” I whispered. I heard the sadness in my voice, though I hadn’t meant it to be there.

  He ran his hand through his hair. The short spikes were getting longer.

  “Do you, um …”

  He looked nervous and unsure of himself, appearing much younger than he was.

  He swallowed and lifted his head. “Do you think maybe someday when things are, are back to normal, or at least sort of normal … do you think we could maybe, um, I don’t know, take a walk together or something?”

  I leaned back in my chair. I was sure my lips were going to crack I was smiling so hard. “Are you asking me out?”

  He returned the smile. He knew my answer and I knew his.

  He leaned forward, his forearms on the table. The nervous boy was gone, replaced by the confident man. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

  I heard footsteps behind me and knew our time alone had ended.

  Jonah’s expression shifted away from me and I knew then who stood behind me.

  “You two are up early,” Trent said, placing a hand on my shoulder. He bent and kissed me on the cheek.

  I closed my eyes to hide my expression.

  “You are too,” East said, coming in behind Trent.

  “Ah, it’s the military life. We’re early risers.” Trent’s tone was easy and light as he watched her come into the room.

  “Did you sleep well?” he asked, sitting beside me.

  “No. I had a lot to think about,” I said, keeping my voice even.

  “Have you told them?” he asked, nodding toward East and Jonah.

  I shook my head. “I thought you and I should talk first.”

  “What have you not told us?” Sara said, coming to sit on my other side.

  I turned to her, unsure of what to do or say, unsure of what to think or feel. I didn’t want to do what I was about to do. I wasn’t good at telling Trent no; I didn’t have much practice at it.

  “Trent, can we talk?” I rose before he had a chance to stop me, and went to the hallway.

  He followed. “What is it? Aren’t you excited to tell your friends we’re engaged?”

  “Trent, I just don’t think us getting engaged is a good idea.” My tone was firm but kind. “We barely know each other anymore. It’s been four and a half really long months. I’ve changed, you’ve changed. It just isn’t a good idea to decide to spend our lives together when we’ve been apart for so long.” I hoped he’d accept my words. I didn’t want to tell him I didn’t love him and I probably never did. I didn’t want to break his heart. He didn’t deserve that.

  He moved toward the bedroom. I knew I was supposed to follow. He closed the door behind me.

  “Where is this coming from, Bria?” he asked, looking at me.

  His calm eyes showed a hint of concern … and something else. He was lying. I could see it now. I never could before, but it was there, buried beneath the facade.

  “We had problems before, Trent. And now we’ve led totally separate lives for almost five months. I worry that would be setting us up to fail.” I crossed my arms.

  “Are you sure that’s it?” he asked.

  I forced my mind to be blank, my face neutral, and voice calm. “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “I mean I think there is more to it. I think,”—he turned and walked a few steps away from me—“I think you have not been faithful.”

  The hypocrisy was too much. “Have you?” I asked.

  “So, you have cheated,” he said, a fake smile plastered to his face.

  “I didn’t say that, and the answer is no. In the two years we’ve been together I have never cheated on you.” I tried not to allow my anger to overwhelm me.

  “You’ve wanted to cheat. You’ve wanted to be with him,” he said, waving an arm in the direction of the kitchen. “But he wouldn’t have you,” he said, hatred burning in his eyes.

  “Trent, this has nothing to do with anyone but you and me. We aren’t good for each other. Why can’t you see that?” I wanted to scream and walk away. All the old fights came alive in my mind, the old hurts burning bright in my memory. I wanted out of this relationship that I never should
’ve been in.

  He snapped his head toward me. “Because you’re mine,” he growled.

  My posture changed as all hint of pretense left him. I was seeing him for who he really was, and it was terrifying.

  “You’re mine and you’ll always be mine,” he said, grabbing my arm and glowering down at me.

  “You-you can’t force me to marry you,” I said, my voice trembling.

  He laughed. “You’re so stupid. You’ve always been so stupid, never seeing things for how they really are. Your daddy is gone. He can’t protect you. Your friends, lover boy, and his tempting sister, none of them can do a thing to stop me. But I’m feeling kind, so as long as you don’t make it into a big thing—you know I hate your stupid drama—then I won’t have them shot for treason. If you whine to them, Jonah will be the first to go. Actually, no. Sara will be the first to be shot. I hate her. Then he will be next.”

  My body shook. “You can’t do that,” I said, summoning all my courage.

  In a second his hand was on the back of my head, my hair looped through his fingers.

  “That is the last time you will ever speak to me like that,” he said, shoving me toward the French doors and out onto the balcony.

  “Open your pathetic eyes. I’m in charge. All of this is mine to control. If you want your friends alive, you’ll realize how undeserving you are to be my wife,” he shouted, his mouth close to my right ear.

  “Why-why are you doing this?” I said, tears running out the corners of my eyes.

  My head lifted against my will to look at him.

  “Because I love you,” he said, releasing his grip.

  I fell to the balcony floor. He turned and went into the bedroom. I sat shaking, knowing he was waiting for me, knowing there was no way out.

  Twenty-Three

  “Where’ve you two been?” Blaise asked when Trent and I entered the kitchen.