We pulled the van near the barn/garage. I wasn’t sure what to call it because it contained both stalls for animals and an old truck. Probably one of the first ever made. The truck looked to be in pretty good shape. It had been well covered before Josh and Blaise discovered it. The building it was in was another story. Part of it was made from the same kinds of stones of the house and those parts were standing, but other parts had been made from wood and those parts were badly weathered. The roof, too, was not made of the stone material of the house roof, but instead, of wood shingles, many of which were no longer there. Fixing the barn would be a massive undertaking, especially without power tools or cut lumber. But Pops and Nonie knew things the rest of us didn’t, about how things had once been done before machines. They would know how to fix the barn.
With the setting sun came the dropping temperature. Jonah and I unharnessed Talin and Fulton. I had gotten to be good at this and could do it quickly, but tonight my fingers were stiff from the freezing wind. Jonah led Fulton away from the van, toward the back of the barn. I followed with Talin, zipping Jonah’s hand-me-down coat around me as I walked. I unrolled the sleeves, allowing them to slide down and cover my hands.
Jonah stood near the stream. This was why we had come. Why we had made the two-day journey. Why Charlotte and her family had left everything. Fresh water for our animals and for us. Fulton drank the cool water, and my mouth watered. I wanted to do the same. I was so thirsty. Talin bent her head, her lips touching the water. I knelt beside her. I placed my hands in the water. It felt like needles against my skin. I didn’t care. Thirst overwhelmed me. I cupped my hands, bringing water to my lips.
“Don’t do it, Bria.” His words were soft, his touch gentle.
“What?” I asked, as if waking from a daze.
“Don’t drink the water,” he said, looking down and offering me a hand to help me stand.
My hand dripping, I placed it in his. The warmth of his touch spread through my body. He pulled me up.
“I know it looks clean, but it will make you sick. Wait a little longer. Mom said she was going to boil water. I’m sure it’s done by now. We just need to get Talin and Fulton taken care of and we can go in.” His voice was quiet, his eyes kind.
I said nothing. I was too thirsty, too hungry, too overwhelmed by how hard it was to survive. I missed walking out of my apartment and getting a smoothie or a sandwich on my way to class. I missed having food that I paid for rather than saw killed or harvested. How was I going to survive here? At the Pages’ house it didn’t seem as real as it did here. Here we had stepped back in time. I knew it offered us the greatest chance at survival. I knew we had to come here, but part of me wished we hadn’t. The Pages’ house was comforting to me. Although none of the appliances worked it still looked normal. Here there was nothing that looked like home or the life I had known. A tear escaped down my cheek.
Tilting his body toward me, Jonah said, “It’s going to be okay, Bria. We’re going to be okay.”
“How do you know?” I asked.
“I have faith,” he said, smiling.
“How can you?”
“I just do,” he said, wiping the tear from my cheek.
I leaned into his touch. I hadn’t meant to, but I couldn’t stop myself. His hand pressed gently against my cheek. His fingers caressed my cheekbone, moving up to touch my hair.
“We should go in,” he said, closing the gap between us as he spoke.
He didn’t take his hand away. He didn’t want to. He wasn’t just being nice; he wanted to be with me. He wanted to be close to me, to feel my skin against his. He felt something for me. Was I just the possibility of something physical? That’s what it would have been for another guy, but Jonah wasn’t like other guys. He was good and kind. He was pure.
I was not.
I moved from his touch.
“You’re right,” I said, “we should go in.”
I registered the hurt in his eyes at my abrupt change. My heart sank, but I knew it was better to hurt him now than for him to find out who I really was later, when we both cared more. I would stay away from him. I would not hurt this man. I would protect him from me.
* * *
The first drops of rain fell to the ground as Jonah and I stepped into the kitchen. I was struck by the warmth of the room. A fire glowed in the large kitchen fireplace, illuminating the family who sat and stood around the room. For the first time in two days I was warm enough to take off his hand-me-down coat.
“You two look exhausted,” Charlotte said.
I looked then at Jonah, for the first time since pulling away from him. His eyes were bloodshot. He looked defeated and confused. I had done that to him. My selfishness had hurt someone so good. I hated myself even more. Why did I keep causing pain? Why did I keep bringing darkness into the world?
“Just hungry and thirsty,” Jonah said, striding to the sink where a bucket of water sat.
Charlotte handed him a glass and then gave me one. Jonah drank his in one gulp. I took mine and sat by the fire, next to Blaise and Sara. They had been watching me since I’d come in.
“You okay?” Blaise whispered, handing me a piece of smoked meat.
“No,” I said. I was tired of pretending. The reality was, I hadn’t been okay for a long time.
I wanted to leave the kitchen. I didn’t want to be with the rest of the family, but I was too weak from hunger, dehydration, and blood chilling cold. So I sat and sipped my water. When that glass was empty Charlotte filled it again. She was watching me. She alternated between looking at me and looking at Jonah. What must she think? We had done nothing, not even a kiss and yet I felt so guilty. Her son who wanted to be a priest, who knew no sin, had feelings for me. A woman who had made horrible mistakes that could never be undone. A woman who would only hurt him. I glanced at Jonah. A woman who had already hurt him.
I knew almost nothing about the Catholic religion. I knew they were Christian, their priests didn’t marry, and the pope was their leader. I knew there were things they were against, things they called sins, or at least that’s what it said online, and I knew I had committed most of them. I wanted to cry and scream. The guilt and the pain were overwhelming. I felt dizzy.
“I’m going upstairs,” I said to Blaise and Sara. “I need to sleep.”
Without waiting for a response I left the room, carrying the glass of water and piece of meat. My legs felt heavy. With every step up the stairs, the weight of my body became more overwhelming.
Behind me I heard footsteps. I did not turn to see who it was. I was too tired to care.
In the room I would share with Blaise and Sara, I heard the footsteps following. A small fire glowed in the fireplace, the room’s only source of light and heat. I shuffled to the hearth, wanting both.
“We need to talk,” Jonah said. He closed the door.
“No, we don’t,” I said, turning from the fire and walking to the bed. I felt the exhaustion even more as I sat on the edge of the bed.
He placed another piece of wood on the fire and then sat on the floor a few feet from me.
“What happened out there?” he asked, his voice kind, too kind for what I deserved. “You got so angry. I’m sorry I touched your cheek. I-I lost myself for a second. It will never happen again,” he said.
He thought he had done something, been too forward.
“Jonah, you … you did nothing wrong. … I liked it when you touched my cheek,” I said, my voice losing its sharpness.
He exhaled. “Then what happened? Why did you get so mad?” he asked, coming to sit next to me.
My heart raced. All I wanted to do was be with him. I shook the thought from my head and slid off the bed.
“Jonah, what do you want from me?” I asked, standing by the fire.
“What do you mean?” He came toward me.
“Do you just want something physical? Do you want a one-night stand?” I asked, my voice tired.
“I would never do that.” His jaw was h
ard, his voice calm.
“Then what do you want?” I said, crossing my arms.
He stood near me, but kept his distance. “I’m still trying to figure that out,” he said, confused. “But I know I don’t want you to be mad at me.”
I softened my voice and my posture. “Jonah, I have no reason to be mad at you.”
“Then what happened out there? I saw the anger come over you,” he said, taking a step closer.
“You don’t know me. You don’t know my past, the choices I’ve made,” I said.
“You were angry at yourself?” he asked.
“You are a really good guy. You deserve someone equally good. You deserve to be a priest, if that’s what you want,” I said, looking into his eyes and begging him to hear me.
“I don’t know what I want anymore,” he said, looking down at me and touching my arm lightly.
We were close enough to kiss. All I wanted to do was kiss him.
I shook my head and pulled away. “If you’re thinking of not being a priest because of me, then I will make it easy for you. You and I will never happen. You deserve better,” I said, turning from him. At the window, rain pushed against the dark panes.
“Bria, we all have a past. But your past only controls your future if you let it. Don’t let your past control you—control us.” He was nearing me, his voice strong, but his tone pleading.
I had to make him understand. I had to make him see me for who I really was. I sucked the air in as my heart raced. I said the words as quickly as I could. “I’m sorry, Jonah, but I don’t feel anything for you. Yeah, you’re cute, way too cute to be a priest, and it would be great to hook up, but anything more than that, I can’t do. If you’re okay with something casual, then we could have some fun, but otherwise you might want to try Sara. She might want something more serious.”
I watched emotions wash over him: sadness, confusion, disgust. My words worked.
My heart wouldn’t slow, my head spun, a layer of sweat covered my body and became like ice in the cold night air. I steadied myself on the small ledge of the window.
Jonah took a few steps backward, as if I’d shot him. He turned to go, but paused at the door. I wanted him to come back—to say he knew I didn’t mean those words, that I wasn’t that person. He shook his head as if having a conversation with himself, and walked out of the room.
My knees weakened and I held tightly to the window ledge for support. I heard his footsteps on the stairs. The front door opened, the rages of the storm entered the house, the door closed, the storm returning to the night.
I dragged myself onto the bed, my whole body shaking. I listened to the rain pelting the window. Tears came, and they would not stop. The wind howled. My body shook violently, as if driven by an internal storm. I thought of his pleading eyes, his words: “Bria, we all have a past. Don’t let it control you—control us.” I felt the pain of my choice. As if it had been lying in wait for this moment of weakness. This moment where my past finally met my present, and it could overcome me, destroy me. This pain that told me I wasn’t worthy. This pain that kept Jonah and me apart.
The storm would not stop. My body convulsed in pain. My mind raced with memories. Memories I did not want. Containing events I wished with every part of my existence had never happened.
* * *
Lying on my side, I watched the rain stream down the window. The fire barely glowed, and the air around me was so cold my breath turned to mist as it escaped my lips. I heard the click of the door. Blaise and Sara entered. I did not move. Blaise placed two logs on the coals. Sara hobbled to the bed and slipped under the covers beside me. I closed my eyes and lay still. Blaise stretched out on the floor by the fire. The room warmed. I listened as first Sara’s and then Blaise’s breathing slowed to sleep. I opened my eyes and stared out the window that was now a mirror. I looked at my reflection. Cheeks red, eyes swollen, hair a mess and unwashed. I looked how I felt and that was a relief. I was no longer pretending.
Seventeen
I opened my eyes.
“What happened last night?” Sara asked, looking at me from the foot of the bed.
The sun was up, the fire out.
“What time is it?” I asked, rubbing my swollen eyes.
“Close to noon,” she said.
“Are you just waking up?” I asked her.
She sat on the bed, staring at me. “No, we’ve all been up for hours. Blaise and Josh were in here watching you for a while, but they needed to help do things. It’s still hard for me to walk, so I volunteered to stay here,” she said.
“That wasn’t necessary,” I said, sitting up and feeling irritated.
“I disagree, and so do Blaise and Josh,” she said, her voice calm yet serious.
I looked out the window. The rain had stopped.
Sara exhaled audibly. “Bria, what’s going on with you?” she asked.
“Nothing,” I mumbled.
“Please don’t lie to me. You come in the kitchen looking like hell. You leave looking like you could kill someone. Jonah follows you. Then he walks out of the house into a storm, spends the night in the freezing barn. Seriously, what’s going on?” She lowered her voice. “Did he hurt you?”
Anger flared. “No! He would never do that.”
“That’s what I thought. Then what is it?” she asked, leaning toward me.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said, sitting up.
“You are my friend and I love you, but you either tell me or I’m calling in backup,” she said, not letting up.
“What do you mean, backup?” I asked.
“Everyone, everyone is concerned about you—about you two, to be exact,” she said.
“You’ve been talking about Jonah and me?” The anger in my voice turned more noticeable than I’d intended.
“Of course. We have no TV, no movies, no Internet. You two are basically our entertainment, and God knows we need entertaining,” she said, half teasing, half serious.
“What have you all said?” I asked, feeling betrayed.
“Nothing, really. There’s been a lot of eyebrow raising. No one knows what’s going on. Jonah isn’t talking either. Though he has spent the morning with Eli. But Eli never tells anyone anything. It’s probably a priest code or something,” she said, shrugging.
I was glad he was confiding in Eli. Hopefully Eli could talk some sense into him. Help him see that he simply has a crush, nothing more.
“There’s really nothing to say. There was a misunderstanding. We set it straight. That’s that,” I said, hoping she’d let it go.
I could tell by her eyes she didn’t believe me.
“Have you two slept together?” she asked.
“You know we have,” I said, too irritated to answer the implied question. She and I viewed sex differently. She viewed it as a goal, as a win of sorts. I did not.
“No, I mean, have you … you know,” she said, intertwining her hands.
“Say the word, Sara! Sex. No, we have not had sex, nor will we ever,” I said, no longer trying to hide my anger.
“He doesn’t want to?” she asked, unfazed.
I leaned my head against my hand in frustration. “Sara, he deserves to be a priest or at least to be with someone good. He does not deserve to be with someone like me,” I said, fighting back tears.
“Bria, that’s ridiculous. He’s exactly the kind of guy you do deserve,” Blaise said as she and Josh walked through the open door.
“Ugh,” I groaned, and laid my head back down on the century-old pillow.
Blaise sat beside me and Sara. Josh sat on the floor, looking up at us.
“As much as I hate to admit it, you and Jonah do seem to fit really well together,” Sara said with a nod.
“You know if Sara is saying that, it must be true,” Josh said.
“Hey!” she said.
“Sara,” Blaise said, “you know you have a crush on every guy you meet—and let’s be real—Jonah is amazing.”
&nb
sp; “Hey!” Josh said.
“You know what I mean. Just because I’m madly in love with you doesn’t mean I can’t recognize when other guys are incredible,” she said, with a wink to Josh.
“Incredible? Amazing? When’s the last time you described me that way?” Josh said, pretending to be hurt.
“You know I’m right,” she said, glaring at her fiancé.
“Yeah, I know. I’m just giving you a hard time. That guy is pretty awesome. I have a crush on him and he’s definitely not my type,” he said, teasing.
I threw my pillow at him.
“What? He’s a great guy. You should totally be with him,” he said, throwing it back at me.
“I know he’s a great guy, but that’s the thing. He deserves more than me,” I said, lowering my gaze to stare at my hands.
“Bria, no offense, but Trent has you messed up. He made you believe you deserved someone like him and could do no better,” Sara said.
“You’re wrong. Trent told me what I already knew was true. Trent and I were a good match. He was no better than me,” I said, looking at Sara.
“That’s putting it mildly,” Blaise said, grimacing.
“He was nowhere near good enough for you,” Sara said with frustration in her voice.
“You didn’t know him like I did,” I said, not sure why I was defending him.
Sara spoke, her voice more serious than I was used to. “Perhaps, but I knew you with him. You are better with Jonah. Even with all of the craziness around us. All the stuff with your mom and dad and brother, even with all of that. When you are with him you are okay and actually happy. That means something.”
The Light: Who do you become when the world falls away? (New Dawn Book 1) Page 14
