Away From the Dark

by Aleatha Romig

  “You. Why?”

  “My friend, Mindy Rosemont—Mary at the Northern Light,” I added to help him remember. “Besides researching The Light for a drug story and missing persons and fingertips . . . I was trying to find Mindy.”

  “So how does that connect you to that wall?”

  “I wasn’t finding anything. It was like Mindy had disappeared into thin air. Anyway, her parents live in California, and they wanted to do something to help find her. About a month after Mindy went missing, her parents came back here and posted a bunch of fliers all over the city and suburbs. I thought it was a waste of time. I mean, this is the digital age, what good would paper fliers do?

  “I was wrong. A while after they were posted, Dina, Mindy’s mom, received a call from a woman who said her young kids liked to play in the woods behind their house. She said they played near a landing strip, and one day they said they saw a woman being carried onto a plane. Dina called and asked me to look for the landing strip. She was told it was near Highway 1 and Eastways Road. That was the day I drove up here. I had the address of the mansion, but after I couldn’t get in or even get any good pictures, I drove around for over an hour trying to find the landing strip. I couldn’t find it. After today, I know why. It was because of all the gates.

  “At the time I assumed if there were a landing strip, there’d be an access road. I never imagined it would be gated.”

  Jacob scooted against the tree. When I looked up, he was staring at me. In his eyes I saw something I didn’t recall having seen before.

  “Why are you looking at me funny?” I asked.

  He lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles. “I’m not looking at you funny. I’m looking at you with utter amazement. You are a kick-ass investigative journalist. I can’t believe they assigned me—an FBI agent—a wife with so much knowledge on The Light.”

  I grinned. “I’m pretty sure they don’t know about you.”

  He shook his head. “No. If they did, that would’ve been me in the front of the temple.”

  I closed my eyes. “Please don’t say that. Don’t even joke about that.” A tear ran down my cheek, and Jacob gently wiped it away with his thumb.

  “I’m not joking. We’re getting out. I just need a burner phone so I don’t alert The Light by using my phone. It’s been more than twenty-four hours. They should have enough manpower in Anchorage very soon.”

  “What happened to the phone you had in Fairbanks?”

  “I had to destroy it. I couldn’t risk having it on me when we went back. I wasn’t sure we’d get away with what we did, getting you back into the Northern Light.” With our hands still united, he laid his head against the tree and sighed.

  “What now?” I asked.

  “I remembered something else. Before service, Father Gabriel asked me about Fairbanks. Before I went there, I called Brother Daniel and told him that Whitefish was low on supplies so I was going to Fairbanks. There would be record of me being there, and I needed to justify it.”

  “What did Father Gabriel ask?”

  “Just how the weather was in Fairbanks this time of year.”

  My pulse increased. “That’s weird. Don’t you think?”

  “Yes, but then he asked me for an envelope someone gave me after my delivery. For the life of me, I don’t remember what I did with it.”

  I didn’t ask about the envelope. If I did, I knew Jacob would tell me—he’d promised. I also knew there was still so much about The Light I didn’t know, but at this moment my curiosity was waning. I knew too much. That’s why I was here, with my make-believe husband, sitting on the cool ground in the shadows of tall trees, within the compound of a man I believed to be mad, one who’d authorized the killing of two people in front of more than a hundred witnesses.

  When I turned toward my make-believe husband, his eyes were closed, and his breathing steady.

  How much sleep had he gotten in the past seventy-two hours?

  It was hard to comprehend that I’d only left the Northern Light on Friday morning, and now it was Sunday. So much had happened.

  Releasing his hand, I gently traced his jaw with my knuckles and enjoyed the abrasion of the stubble against my skin. My cheeks rose as I remembered how I’d traced his face before the bandages were removed from my eyes. When I’d done that, I’d been trying to see him, to envision the man in my bed. He wasn’t the man I’d envisioned.

  Now I knew he was so much more.

  As I began to stand, Jacob reached for my hand and pulled me back.

  “No,” he said, as I landed on his lap.

  “I thought you were asleep. I was going to look around.” Not that I could be looking around now, not with the vise grip he had on me.

  “You’re not allowed out of my sight.”

  “Allowed?” I asked with more than a bit of rebellion.

  “We’re still in The Light, so yes, allowed.”

  I shook my head and kissed his cheek. “You were sleeping. I wasn’t in your sight.”

  The light brown staring intently back at me sparkled with the flickers of sunlight raining through the leaves.

  “Yes, you were. You’re always there.” He kissed my nose. “I even see you in my dreams.”

  Framing his face, I puckered my lips. Our kiss was soft and understanding. Loosening his embrace, Jacob reached for the back of my neck and pulled me closer. As the fervency of our connection grew, our kiss and need deepened. When his tongue teased my lips, I willingly parted them, releasing a moan as our tongues danced.

  When Jacob’s hand sought the hem of my shirt, I remembered the boundary I’d placed, but instead of reminding him, I pulled my blouse from the confines of my skirt. His touch was warm as he unfastened the clasp of my bra and released my breasts. Sighing, I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensations as the scarred tips of his fingers heightened my desire, caressing and taunting my beaded nipples. I pushed my chest toward him, wanting more of what he could do to my sensitive skin. Bowing his head, he delivered, sucking and nipping and sending pulsations elsewhere.

  “Oh, Jacob,” I purred, weaving my fingers through his dark wavy hair.

  The ground where we sat was hard and dry, hardly the place to make love. It was also private and isolated. Moving from his lap, I lifted my shirt over my head and laid it on the ground. Discarding my bra, I reached for Jacob’s hand and tugged him over me as I lay back with my head on my shirt.

  “You said . . . ,” he reminded me.

  “Please, I want you.”

  Jacob’s eyes never left mine as he bunched my skirt to my waist and removed my panties and shoes. “I,” he said between kisses, “will always want you.”

  Reaching for his belt, I smiled as I rubbed the erection straining against his jeans. His groan rumbled through the trees. Ever since the first time—that I now knew had been our first time—when I’d asked to be the one to unbuckle his belt, he’d always left it for me. As I pulled it from its loops, I realized it was one of the ways he’d never forced me. I’d always wanted to make love with him. It’d always felt right.

  Leather and musk replaced the scent of dry leaves, and my back arched upon the solid ground as he slid inside me. Humming, I adjusted to the delicious fullness as we moved in sync. Leaving a trail of fire, Jacob peppered my skin with kisses as he teased my neck and breasts and everything in between.

  Unbuttoning his shirt, I ran my fingers along his chest and reveled in the way his muscles hardened and flexed beneath my palms. When I opened my eyes, the brown I sought was staring down at me.

  “I love you,” I said, choking on the emotion in my own voice. It was true. It wasn’t Sara or Stella who loved Jacob; it was me, the new combination of each individual I’d once been.

  Jacob reached behind my head and removed the tie securing my ponytail. Fanning my hair over the shirt, he grinned. “I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you, and now, the more I learn about you, the more I love.”

  He continued his slow sweet torture as he mov
ed in and out, building the tempo, without rushing. During this brief reprieve, it was as if we didn’t have the fate of nearly a thousand people in our hands. It was just us, husband and wife, making love on a warm summer day. I lifted my hips, wanting to be closer, needing him deeper.

  “God, Sara, you feel so damn good.”

  I smiled. “I do.” It wasn’t a question. I felt good—stretched, filled, and good. Pressure began to build as my back again arched and my toes curled. Jacob knew exactly what I wanted, exactly what I needed. He didn’t back away, but pushed me higher until the trees and the beams of sunlight disappeared, and my body convulsed around his. Whimpers replaced the rustling of the leaves as I clung to his shoulders while wave after wave of pleasure momentarily washed reality away. I opened my eyes in time to see the expression that I loved, strain morphing to bliss and a contented smile.

  When our breaths began to even, Jacob collapsed, his chest flattening my breasts, and he brushed my hair away from my face. I was home in the arms of a man whom, if life hadn’t been so cruel, I’d never have met. Despite it all, I’d found the place I wanted to be. In that moment I knew we’d make it. I did love Jacob.

  CHAPTER 22

  Sara

  It was more than a little disconcerting to sleep in a room that we knew had cameras, but we didn’t have any choice. Father Gabriel had messaged both Brother Micah and Jacob in the evening to inform them that we wouldn’t leave for the Northern Light until the next afternoon. Apparently it was because he had plans. Last night the music and voices could be heard as the celebration ensued up at the mansion. I really didn’t care what Father Gabriel did in his free time. I was just happy to know he wouldn’t be doing it much longer. Today he had three Assembly and Commission meetings to attend before we could leave.

  Thinking about the flight back to the Northern Light made me uncomfortable. I would need to ride in the cabin of the plane with him and didn’t know whether he’d expect me to talk. My plan was to busy myself with reading his word and pray that he ignored me.

  A little after three, Jacob looked up from his phone as the color drained from his cheeks. “Sara, finish getting ready. A car is coming to pick us up in fifteen minutes.”

  “A car . . .” I began to question, but his narrowing gaze reminded me of the cameras. “Yes, Jacob.”

  The timing was right. The last Commission meeting would have recently ended.

  To finish getting ready, I just needed to gather our things and touch up my hair. I was thankful Jacob had told me to prepare for the possibility of spending the night. If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have had clean clothes. Not only had yesterday been long, beginning at the Northern Light, but also our walk in the woods had covered my shirt and skirt in twigs and dirt. From the way my cheeks blushed at the memory, I wasn’t complaining.

  I was standing in front of the mirror when Jacob entered the bathroom. I knew the routine and waited for him to roll the towel blocking sound from escaping at the bottom of the door. He spoke first, his volume low.

  “I don’t like any of this. My gut tells me we need to run. I just don’t know how.”

  “Where are we going in the car?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not sure. I just spoke to Micah. He didn’t receive the same invitation.”

  I took Jacob’s hands. “It’s probably that test. I mean, other than when we first arrived, I haven’t seen Dylan. Why bring me all this way, if that’s the test, to let me leave without seeing him?”

  The muscles in Jacob’s neck tensed as he inhaled and exhaled. “I’m going to have a fucking heart attack before this is over.”

  Smiling sweetly, I said, “I told you yesterday—I can do this. I can do it because of you.” I shook my head. “It’s more than me not wanting to mess this all up for you or me wanting to help bring this travesty down. I meant what I said. I really do love you. I won’t be lying when or if I have to speak to Dylan. The only part I’ll be lying about is not remembering him, but I’m a woman of The Light. I shouldn’t be talking to him anyway, not without your permission.”

  “I thought of that. Father Gabriel supersedes your husband.”

  How had I forgotten that?

  I did my best to sound confident. “Don’t worry. I can do this.”

  Jacob stood behind me and moved us in front of the mirror. For a split second, I had visions of seeing us for the first time in the bathroom of the pole barn. Now our faces were familiar.

  With his arms around my waist and his chin on top of my head, he said, “Your bruise is getting lighter.”

  Nodding, I grinned.

  “You’re still beautiful.”

  I lowered my eyes as my cheeks flushed.

  “Sara, look up. I want you to know, I’m getting us out—away from The Light and away from the dark.”

  Spinning in his arms, I brushed my lips over his. “Where does that leave?”

  “The real world.”

  “I trust you with my life. I have and I’ll continue to do it. I also want Father Gabriel stopped. If I didn’t before, after yesterday, I want him locked away forever. So, as much as I’d love to run, you’ve put too much time and energy into this. We’ll make it a few more days.” I had a thought and scrunched my forehead. “Do you think that’s the Kool-Aid plan—drugs?”

  He nodded. “I do. Some kind of drug, more than likely ingestible. I don’t think even Father Gabriel could expect a thousand people to inject themselves.”

  His lips met mine.

  “I never planned on falling in love,” he confessed. “But I did. Do you know what I want, someday?”

  I shook my head.

  “To call you Stella McAlister.”

  My cheeks rose. “Was that a proposal?”

  “No.” His eyes sparkled. “You’re already my wife.”

  The knock at the outer door shattered the warmth of his embrace as his arms stiffened. My heartbeat quickened as he whispered, “Only a few more days.”

  I inhaled his cool aroma of shower gel and replied, “Yes, Jacob.”

  Once again Brother Elijah was the one who came to get us. I’d forgotten to tell Jacob that I’d remembered Brother Elijah from before. I was certain he was the man who’d knocked on my car window when I’d been at the other buildings in the other neighborhood in Highland Heights. He had also been the parking lot attendant—my last memory.

  This time I sat alone in the backseat, as Jacob sat in the front. Our ride didn’t last long, and I wondered why Father Gabriel had sent a car at all, because once the SUV left the gate, it was barely a minute before it entered another gate, the one for the main house. My stomach twisted as the gate I’d tried to see past nearly a year ago opened, revealing a tree-lined cobblestone driveway.

  Bloomfield Hills was an older, prestigious neighborhood, and many of the mansions had been built by the auto-industry moguls of the past. As we approached the stately home, its exterior a combination of red brick and limestone, I got the sense of American nobility.

  Once Brother Elijah parked, I waited until Jacob opened my door. As soon as he did, I read the panic in his eyes. He’d told me more than once that he’d never been invited to the house, and here we were, about to enter. I’d seen the back of the house and the limestone balcony from the outbuilding, but up close it was even more stunning, showcased by the landscaping and the fountain in the center of the driveway.

  As we walked up the steps, the door opened. At first I wondered whether it was on a sensor, but then I saw the woman who had opened it. She stood silently beside the door, and though she was never acknowledged, the blue scarf around her neck caught my attention. Other than that small bit of color, her plainness made her invisible. She never looked up, but in a few seconds I took in her fair complexion and the way her dark hair was secured in a low bun. The way she stood statuesque wearing a knee-length white shapeless dress and soft flat slippers facilitated the illusion that she didn’t really exist.

  As I entered the mansion, my senses on high alert, as i
f I were preparing for a story, I took in everything from the high two-story foyer with the domed ceiling and large chandelier to the mirrored set of curved staircases. With each step our shoes echoed against the opulent marble tile as Brother Elijah led us down a hallway. We came to a stop outside a set of French doors, their windows filled with thick ornate beveled glass, making it impossible to see inside.

  As we stood, I tried to swallow, but couldn’t. My mouth was suddenly dry, a contrast to my palm in Jacob’s grasp, which slid against his, clammy with perspiration. Brother Elijah’s knock shattered the reverberating silence as the recurring rap of his knuckles ricocheted off the intricate woodwork and marble floors.

  Without lifting my eyes, I knew who’d opened the door. The faded jeans and boots were my first clues; the way Jacob’s hand flinched, tightening his grip, was another.

  “So nice of you to join us,” Dylan said condescendingly as he opened the door.

  Together we stepped over the threshold onto incredibly soft carpet. It was deep red, the color of blood. I tried to push that thought away. Brother Elijah entered last and shut the door. When I glanced in his direction he was standing with his arms crossed over his large chest, blocking our only means of escape.

  What the hell? Did he think we’d try to run away?

  I turned away from the door in time to see Dylan sit in a chair beside Father Gabriel. They were both on the other side of Father Gabriel’s desk. From the way Dylan leaned back with his ankle resting on the opposite knee, I knew Jacob was right. Dylan and Father Gabriel were somehow connected. I’d never seen anyone appear as casual around the leader of The Light.

  I waited to be told where to go before I looked up; however, we weren’t directed to do anything. Instead we were left standing while Father Gabriel remained silent. When I gazed upward and my eyes met the piercing blue of my memory, my head tilted questioningly to the side, and then I shook my head, so fast it would be almost imperceptible, and lowered my gaze.

  “Brother Jacob and Sister Sara,” Father Gabriel began, “is there anything you’d like to say?”