First Light

by Isabel Jolie

  I returned to the door and pounded both fists, releasing all the rage and frustration and pain from the last several days. It was as if a dam had released, and as the skies opened up, so did I.

  The door opened as my fist crashed onto it, and I stumbled forward, right into a blinding yellow light.

  Chapter 28

  Cali

  * * *

  “Logan?” He shielded his eyes with his hand. The wind whipped. Leaves rustled. On the ground at his feet, sporadic raindrops darkened the concrete lip that extended out from the building to the ground. Nym whimpered.

  Logan pushed his way inside, and I closed the door on the storm. The low Jack Johnson melody playing filtered down the stairs.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I blinked, taken aback by his vitriol. A vein protruded from his neck. He scowled.

  “Riding out the storm. I figured it would be safer here than in an oceanfront home.”

  “There’s a Cat 4 hurricane barreling down on us. Mandatory evacuations. I’ll ask one more time. What the hell are you doing here?”

  The yelling struck me as completely uncalled for. But my gaze fell. I waffled on my socked feet. He’d made his feelings clear. Why did he care if I stayed?

  “Is it against the law for me to be here?”

  “Technically, yes. I could fine you. Have you not been listening to the news?”

  “I’ve had a few other things going on these past few days.” As he well knew.

  “I thought you’d go to Seattle.” Why? To see family I don’t have there?

  “This building is secure. I’ll be fine.” I placed my hand on the doorknob. His hands rested on his hips. He continued that scowling thing. “Why are you here?”

  Logan pinched his nose and closed his eyes. I had the distinct impression he struggled to get his emotions under control—his anger under control. A ghostly pale color shone on his freshly shaved skin, noticeably lighter than the skin on his forehead or his arms.

  “You shaved your beard. It looks good.”

  His fingers shifted up from his nose to his forehead where he massaged. He huffed.

  “You said you liked the beard. So I shaved it.”

  Ah, so that’s the way it is. I swung the door open. Nym ventured out into the darkness, tail halfway between his legs.

  “Well, you can stop back by later and arrest me. Or fine me. Or whatever you do.” Dirt from the bottom of his boots littered the once spotless concrete floor.

  “I can’t leave you here. Did you hear me? There’s a hurricane coming.”

  “Well, why is it okay for you to be here?”

  He scratched his jaw. Exhaustion haunted his face, and the look he gave me said he just wanted the day to end. He gritted his teeth, stepped into the doorway, and shouted for Nym. The dog trotted back inside, his snout extended, sniffing.

  “What is this place?” He circled the downstairs area. “A garage?”

  It looked like it. I parked my golf cart on the concrete pad. I didn’t use the downstairs area. Upstairs was a fully livable office, bathroom, and where the servers had been housed.

  “This is my office. The building is reinforced metal. No windows. I figured it’s as safe as anything.”

  He pointed at the garage door as he scanned the ceiling. “Where’s the button to open that?”

  I pointed to the large white square directly beside the entrance door he’d come through.

  “Why? Is that illegal?”

  “Funny.” He pressed the button and the heavy door slowly lifted.

  “What are you doing?” I called out to his retreating back. He slung a leg over an ATV. The headlight flicked on, lighting up a large swatch of street, and then rolled the vehicle into the spot beside my cart. Wind blew from outside, through the downstairs. A couple of stray leaves flew in. The rain outside had picked up, and the wind cast it indoors. I smashed the button to close the garage door as Logan turned the ignition off.

  “What are you doing?” I asked again, although it looked somewhat obvious what he planned on doing.

  “To my knowledge, you’re the only resident still on the island. I’m doing my job. I’m protecting you.”

  “From a storm?”

  He bent down and scratched behind Nym’s ear. The dog’s tail wagged. When he spoke, he spoke to my dog.

  “I’m not leaving you alone. I can’t believe you stayed. Stupid.”

  “I’m not asking for public services. I’ll be fine.”

  “What do you have upstairs?”

  “How did you find me?” Frustration rose. He wouldn’t answer my questions. He barged in. He’d made his feelings about me clear. He’d never forgive me for lying. I got that. He’d been lied to before, and he had this black and white view of the world. I now resided in the black quadrant.

  “I saw a light. Doing one last tour of the island before locking down for the night. I was about to walk away when you opened the door.”

  “Is it too late for you to make it over to the mainland?” He owned a small boat. It would be a rough ride across the inlet, but I had to believe he could still make it across.

  “How do you have electricity? A generator?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you get a news station?”

  “I have internet here. I’ve been watching online.”

  “Can I have a look?” The vein on his throat no longer pulsed. A semblance of the Logan I knew had returned. And, if we were indeed the only two humans left on the island, I supposed I’d rather the two of us ride it out together. Without saying a word, I climbed the stairs.

  Nym trotted past me, leading the way. I’d already prepared the place for a long night in. The pullout sofa had pillows and a thick comforter over it, and my old laptop lay open where I’d left it when I’d heard pounding downstairs. The laptop was from my grad school days, a first-generation MacBook Air. I’d given the laptops I used for work over to Matt. He’d promised to return them, but I wasn’t holding my breath for a speedy return. He’d also taken my trusted BlackBerry Classic, which had served as my primary communication tool to Erik, and my personal iPhone with my address book. Even if I dug up an old phone, I couldn’t remember anyone’s phone numbers. With my ancient computer, I had used the iMessage app to text both Poppy and Luna. Poppy hadn’t returned my text, but Luna had. Apparently, Tate had yet to tell her to stay away from me. He’d actually texted me separately and told me to stay strong, that he hadn’t heard details, but he and Luna would be here for me.

  Logan took off his coat and hung it on the back of one of the two chairs at the round table.

  “You’ve got a nice setup here.” He stared at the empty wire cages lined against one wall. His sarcasm didn’t go over my head.

  “They used to hold servers.”

  “NSA confiscated them?”

  “No. I offered them. I’m not sure if the FBI or the NSA took them.”

  “Why do you sound so sad about that?”

  I stared up in the rafters. I knew a camera resided in the corner, and everything I said was most likely being watched and recorded by my brother or someone on his team.

  “I love my brother. I may not agree with everything he was doing, but I love him.” Logan sat in the chair, much like the NSA and FBI had during my hours of interrogation. I crossed my legs and pulled a pillow onto my lap. The silence between us weighed the air down. I loved Logan too, and I wanted so much to crawl over to him and beg forgiveness. But there was a coldness to his gaze that held me at bay. I’d always known, on some level, that he’d never forgive me if he found out I’d lied to him. I suspected he could forgive me for protecting my brother. But lying to him about my divorce, about something so personal to him, that was where I’d severed our relationship.

  “What exactly was your brother doing?”

  “Matt didn’t tell you?”

  “I want to hear it from you. More specifically, I want to hear what you believed he was doing.” He leaned forward and rested his forear
ms on his thighs, waiting.

  “Years ago, I suspected he’d gotten in over his head. He became obsessed with pro-democracy, freedom of the Internet kind of movements. When we were kids, he obsessed over games. He then discovered hacking…which is kind of like a game.” Most people didn’t understand that, but that was what it was. A challenge. Or that was how it started. His harsh exterior softened, and I endeavored to help Logan understand. “You build your skill level. You tackle increasingly complex challenges. He found other like-minded people. It’s almost like a club. We grew apart. I really didn’t know the extent of what he was involved in.”

  “But at some point, you did?”

  “There had been signs. But I didn’t fully get it. Not until one day about a year ago. He showed up. Frantic. He believed I was in danger. I wanted to go to the cops, but he said it wouldn’t work. They couldn’t do anything. Couldn’t be trusted. He promised me he just needed me to be safe. And he and a few others were going to break apart the company. He never told me details. For my safety. And he promised he was close to putting it all behind him.”

  “Did you plan to ever tell me?” Seriously?

  “No. Logan, you’re a cop. How could I? Even believing Erik was trying to do the right thing, it didn’t mean he didn’t break the law at some point. He has no regard for the law.”

  “Why did he move you out here?”

  “I picked the location. Apparently, a former partner discovered he had been undermining some of their plans. He hired an assassin. Killed a colleague’s girlfriend. Erik doesn’t have a girlfriend. He was convinced I was next.”

  “And you couldn’t go to the police because…?”

  “He also said that the US government would arrest him for certain things he’d done. He told me that individuals within the Chinese government were trying to find him. And the Russians. He didn’t want me to become a pawn, taken by either side. He promised me he’d be done soon. It would all be behind us soon.”

  Outside, a sharp wail screeched.

  “You didn’t hire a lawyer?” He drilled me with his gaze. Anger remained, but something else too.

  “I didn’t need a lawyer. I didn’t do anything wrong.” Of course, if they’d charged me with something, I would’ve hired one. I wouldn’t have been like Logan and gone through a divorce without hiring legal assistance. An almost human howl filled the room.

  “Wind’s picking up.” He sat up straight and studied the roofline.

  “I have food and water in that closet right there. Nothing fancy, but we should be good for at least a week. If it floods downstairs, we’ll be fine. The water’s not going to rise to the second floor. But if it does, that ladder leads to a roof access.”

  “It’s better than my plan to climb inside the lighthouse. Although I’ve heard others have ridden out hurricanes inside it. It can be our backup plan.”

  “There are a lot of spiderwebs in there.” But the walls were incredibly thick. I didn’t say anything else about the lighthouse. Logan didn’t care about spiders.

  The silence between us weighed heavily. We’d had something great, and I destroyed it.

  “Do you want some water? Wine?”

  “You packed wine?”

  “I figured why not.”

  “I’m good.” He scrubbed his face with his hand. “Actually, I’d been on my way to check on Alice. I went by earlier, and it looked like she wasn’t home. But I worried she was pulling what you’re pulling—hiding out.”

  “Luna and Jasmine asked me to check on her. She promised me she was leaving on a ferry. She had all of her cats trapped upstairs with a month’s supply of dry food.”

  “Good. I wonder why she didn’t tell Chad she was leaving.”

  “When did Chad go by? I saw her about an hour before the last ferry. I think Jasmine had more to do with convincing her to leave than anyone. It’s important to have someone.” I trailed off as my words spun through me. If my mom were alive, she would’ve begged me to get to safety. And I would’ve done so. I hadn’t heard a word from my brother or dad, not since Erik called, warning me they were on the way to pick me up. I wondered…did Erik see me offer everything up willingly? In the course of a couple of weeks, had I lost my entire family?

  “Why do you look so sad?” He remained in his interrogation pose, legs wide, a false casual stance.

  “Just thinking. I’m going to lie down and rest. Make yourself at home.” I lifted the laptop and carried it over to him. “You can get Internet from here. There are pretty good components in the roof. We should have access for a lot of the storm. Maybe.”

  I lay down on my side. A coldness settled across the room, and I wrapped myself in a comforter. He remained in his sitting position, hands resting on his thighs. His icy stare weighed on me, even when I closed my eyelids. The weight of his anger prevented rest. Too many things remained unsaid.

  “I’m sorry I lied to you. When I said I was divorced, it had nothing to do with you. And I tried my best to never repeat that lie to you. What I felt for you was real. Very real. But I know you can’t forgive me. As you said, you’ve dedicated your life to catching bad guys. And now, in your eyes, I’m a bad guy. So is my brother.” The stony gaze remained frigid, to the point I wasn’t certain he heard me. The rain on the metal roof above drummed out a constant hammering beat. But I’d developed a habit of talking to my dog, of talking to no one, and I continued.

  “I understand why you believe my brother is a criminal. I can see your point of view. He’s bad in that he’s spreading false information and trying to make our country less stable. And he’s broken laws. I believe that someone in his company, or in his group, has become enamored with money. And I suspect they use causes to justify their actions. My brother is not greedy. He’s not evil. He’s just… Unlike you, I believe in gray. I believe we live in a world with hundreds of shades of gray. No matter how much you want to believe in black and white, right and wrong, there are shades.”

  “Are you certain you don’t live in the dark?”

  My first response, how can you ever be certain, sounded too hollow and pointless. I raised my gaze and met his cold one head-on.

  “I am a good person. I make mistakes, but I do things I believe are good. Good for others, for my family, for our country. I’m a humanist. No matter what you think…” I choked on rising emotion and swallowed. “I’ve promised to be as helpful as I can to your friend. To our country.”

  I closed my eyes. I hated his judgement. I wished he’d never found me. I’d prefer to ride out the storm alone with Nym.

  “I want to hate you.”

  “I know.” I lied to him. After Bethany, to him, it was an unforgivable sin. As I got to know him, I’d realized that. And I still lied. But I couldn’t change what I had done. And if I had to do it over, I couldn’t honestly say I’d do anything differently.

  A loud thud crashed against the side of the building. Probably a tree limb. I opened my eyes. Logan kneeled on the floor before me, his face inches away, his eyes so dark the pupil blended with the iris.

  Chapter 29

  Logan

  * * *

  I trailed my fingers along the side of her face, over the rim of her cheekbone and down to her lips. My breathing quickened, riled by her proximity. The wind outside hissed as it whipped around the corners of the building.

  “Why are you here?”

  Her question struck me as odd. From the moment I discovered she was still here, there was no question in my mind about where I would be. Before, I didn’t particularly care what happened to me—perhaps one reason I never evacuated. But the moment I discovered her, she became my priority.

  “I destroyed us. I get it. Just go.”

  “I can’t.” If she pressed, asking why, I’d blame it on the job.

  “Do you want to…hurt me?”

  She inched away. Fuck. I didn’t mean to scare her.

  “I could never hurt you. I want to protect you. My anger, my hurt. It doesn’t change that I lo
ve you.” No matter how much I might want to hate her, I couldn’t.

  “My brother is still a criminal. He’s wanted by the FBI. And countless others. You can’t be with me. You made that clear.”

  “Yes. You lied.”

  “And now you know the truth.”

  “And I’m angry. Pissed as hell.” The trouble with anger was that it sometimes needed a physical release. I’d tried to pound it out hammering wood over windows and heaving sandbags, but it still sat in my chest, as corrosive as the salt air. “We had a good thing.”

  Silence reigned between us. My thumb brushed her soft skin, outlining her angular cheekbone. All that anger didn’t eliminate a much more powerful emotion. “I love you.”

  “But not enough.” Her whisper cracked my chest open. Was she right?

  I traced her soft lips, back and forth. My thumb slipped into her mouth, and her lips closed on the end, and her upper teeth scraped.

  “You should go.” The storm outside howled, covering her quiet words.

  “No.” I closed my eyes and inhaled. Her familiar shampoo, rosemary and eucalyptus. My heart hammered away, beating away reason. Smashing logic to smithereens.

  I wasn’t sure if she kissed me first or if I crashed down on her, but I covered her body with mine and captured her mouth with a hungry urgency. The pounding rain and raging storm intensified the chaos in my head and chest.

  She tugged on my shirt. I sent hers flying, then her bra, while she worked on my zipper. Our breathing was ragged and heavy when I paused, taking her in, in white silk panties and nothing else. Her long, lean thighs and her smooth, light olive skin. I fell over her, finding my place between her legs. Her palm flattened on my chest and pressed.

  “Lights. Off,” she demanded.

  I’d gladly give her darkness if it meant I could have her. For now. Total blackness fell over the room.