Away From the Dark (The Light #2)(28)

“. . . thank you.”

I’d been listening, but also watching the moving traffic. I didn’t hear why she was thanking me, but didn’t want to ask.

“You’re welcome. I look forward to your calls.”

“I wish . . . well, a lot of things. I remember how excited Stella was that she’d asked you to our house for Christmas. I’m never giving up hope, but I want you to know, we’ll always think of you as part of this family, even if you”—she took a deep breath—“find someone else.”

“I’m not dating, but maybe someday. I’m not ready to give up either.”

“I meant to tell you.” Beverly’s voice filled with a new sense of excitement.

“What?”

“Bernard Cooper called me the other day.”

I felt my grip tighten around the steering wheel. “He did?”

“Yes. It wasn’t much, but since both Stella and Mindy went missing, apparently there’s been an internal investigation at WCJB. They hired some computer forensic guy. You know they never found either one of the girls’ personal laptops, but they’ve been able to uncover deleted files from the television station’s server.”

“They have? What have they learned?”

“Nothing yet. But he was very excited about the possibility of discovering more. I am too. Anything is better than nothing.”

“Please keep me up to date on Bernard’s progress.”

She sighed. “I will. I was afraid he hadn’t told you.”

“We spoke quite a bit when she first . . . but we don’t exactly see eye to eye on everything.”

“I get the feeling that Mr. Cooper feels responsible, like a father who didn’t do all he should have for his children. Both girls’ disappearances have been very difficult on him.”

I was sure they were. He should feel responsible. Sending Stella to Highland Heights. I told her over and over to stay away. She wouldn’t listen. It was when she went to Gabriel Clark’s mansion in Bloomfield Hills that my hands were tied.

Her fate was better than it could have been.

That’s what I told myself as I disconnected the call, made my way into my house in Brush Park, and checked on Fred. He was blissfully unaware of all that had occurred as he swam circles in his little bowl.

“It’s OK, little guy,” I said as I sprinkled betta pellets on top of the water. “The clock’s reset. We won’t need to have that conversation again for another week.”





CHAPTER 12


Jacob/Jacoby

I took Stella’s hand in mine, and at least this time, she didn’t pull away. I couldn’t ask her to go back to the Northern Light. It wasn’t fair. Sitting beside her, I tried to smile. If it was our last time together, maybe, just maybe, she’d have some fond memories of me. “Before we get into tomorrow, would you please tell me about your memory?”

“My memories? Of what?”

“No, your memory. When did it come back?”

She sighed and lay back on the bed. Though her feet were still on the floor, with her head back, her yellow hair fanned around her face, reminding me of a halo. On her neck was the silver cross necklace that I’d put around her neck the night of her first service. Like the wedding ring, she’d worn it consistently since that day. I didn’t deserve her, and she didn’t deserve this. Scooting up on the bed, she arranged the pillows and leaned against the headboard. As she did she scanned the room.

“What?” I asked.

She shrugged. “I just realized there’s only one bed.”

I stood and walked to the small table near the window and sat in a chair. “You can have it. I can sleep in a chair. I did that for over two weeks.”

She nodded and smiled at me. “Now that makes sense.”

“I promised.”

She patted the bed beside her. “I’m not having sex with you, but you can sleep here.”

“Are you . . . ?”

“Jacob, I’m not sure how much sleep we’ll get. We have a lot to talk about.”

I moved back to the bed. “Your memory?”

“Over a week ago, when you were gone for a few nights. You went to the Eastern . . . Detroit.”

I nodded. “I can’t believe I didn’t know.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she shook her head. “I was afraid you did. The moment I saw you again, I knew I couldn’t hide it from you. So I didn’t try. When I was with you, I turned Stella off. I had to.”

“What do you mean, you turned her off?”

She turned to face me. “How have you done it? I mean for three years. That’s a long time.”

I stared up at the ceiling. It was one of those bumpy ones, painted, but the white paint had discolored to a faint yellow with time. “You know what?” I said. “I get it. When I first went to the Eastern Light, I had to think about what I said and how I acted, but then, with time, I became Jacob.”

I recalled the earlier training. Women weren’t the only ones to be indoctrinated. It wasn’t called that with men. It was called training—making it sound military or strategic. The first few weeks at the Eastern Light were a boot camp of sorts. It was where the men deemed unfit were weeded out. It was where Father Gabriel’s word became second nature, where The Light’s way of thinking was either embraced or rejected.