Away From the Dark (The Light #2)(67)
There were things I could say, things to hurt him. Part of me wanted to. By all rights I should do more than that. I imagined pulling my gun from the holster and planting a bullet in his forehead. After what he’d done to Stella, not just the eye, but changing her, turning her into one of the zombie wives, he deserved it.
I didn’t need to be the one to dirty my hands. As soon as the envelope was found, his fate was sealed. The way I saw it, he’d never see Stella or even Bloomfield Hills again. Jacob was yesterday’s news.
As he passed me he didn’t turn in my direction. That was all right. As I watched him start running through the grass toward the landing strip, an appropriate movie quote came to mind.
Under my breath I muttered, “Dead man walking. No”—I smirked—“running.”
CHAPTER 25
Jacob
Sara’s words haunted me, while at the same time they reinforced my resolve.
“Bring him down.” Her determination and faith in me repeated over and over as I ran down the hill and through the yard.
It took everything I had to walk away. I wasn’t sure I could have done that without knowing that Stella was awake inside her. Sara’s conditioning could have left her vulnerable, and I’d have been responsible for that. But Stella, she was the backbone behind Sara, and I had to have faith that she’d make it.
If it weren’t that the Cessna Citation required two pilots, I’m certain Father Gabriel would have had Micah leave without me. As I passed the pool and tennis courts, I recalled the other reason that he wanted me to return to the Northern Light. It was that damn envelope.
I forced my mind to do what Sara had said and think about the future—the mission. Why would Brother Reuben give me something so important that Father Gabriel was asking for it? Had he? Or was this some mind trick—some dumb test—some move to get me back to the Northern Light where my banishment would be more easily hidden?
I tried to remember what I’d done with it. At the time I’d concentrated more on the way Reuben removed it from his jacket, purposely exposing his firearm. I’d never suspected that it contained something important.
Richards’s words came back, blaming Stella for all of this, and indignation rose up. He was wrong. The Light was to blame, and so was Father Gabriel. It wasn’t her. Being good at her job was why she’d decided to come back to The Light. She wanted them to go down as much as I did. I said a prayer that the stubbornness he’d mentioned would keep her alive.
Though she’d sworn to save herself, I couldn’t stop the weight of responsibility that bogged down my steps as I neared the outbuildings. Regardless of what Richards said, Stella Montgomery was in this compound, in that basement, for one reason. Because of me. If she hadn’t agreed to help my mission, she’d be safe in witness protection. Barring some miracle that would allow her to escape, the only way to save her, once I left for the Northern Light, was to authorize the raids.
In the chaos a small smile graced my lips. Damn, he was right about her stubbornness, and I loved it. I wanted it.
Sara and I ran farther than the distance from the mansion to the landing strip all the time, but today was different. Today I was running for my life, for her life, and consequently, by the time I reached the outbuildings, my breathing was heavy and labored. As I opened the door of the building Sara and I’d shared, the scent of floral shampoo caused my chest to clench.
Instead of my giving in to the overwhelming urge to crumble, the aroma gave me strength. I needed to be strong too. I couldn’t let leaving her here at the Eastern Light ruin me. If I did, all that I’d accomplished over the past three years would be for nothing. For her future as well as my operation, I needed to face Father Gabriel and convince him that I was a changed man. I wasn’t the man who had stood in front of him and pleaded for his wife. I’d learned my lesson, and was now the best damn follower he’d ever had. It was the only way—our only chance.
As I’d said—the best performances of our f*cking lives!
Taking a deep breath, I remembered that today was Monday, only three days since Sara had left the Northern Light. A glance at my watch told me it was just after four in the afternoon here in Michigan. With the time difference and the time it took to fly to the Northern Light, we’d land about half an hour after we left Bloomfield Hills. Taking a deep breath of the floral-scented room, I turned, straightened my shoulders, and walked back out into the Michigan sunshine.
My goal was that both Sara and I would make it until Wednesday. Just two more days.
Micah and I were scheduled to fly to Fairbanks on Wednesday for supplies. There was a special distributor that provided the ingredients for the pharmaceuticals. We made the exchange only once a month. I’d been included on those runs since I first came to the Northern Light. Since it was only raw materials, this exchange didn’t require the higher clearance I’d needed to deliver the actual pharmaceuticals. However, due to the sensitivity, it had always been done with two pilots. It was one of the reasons Father Gabriel had insisted I return to work after Sara awoke. When we made it to Fairbanks, I’d buy a burner phone and authorize the raids. It wouldn’t happen immediately, but it would happen.
Sara and I both had to make it a couple of days.
As I walked toward the Cessna, my eyes met Micah’s. He didn’t need to speak. I saw the combination of question and devastation in his expression. Ten minutes ago that look would’ve crushed me, but not now. Pressing my lips into a straight line, I nodded. “I’m sorry I made you wait,” I said, looking around for Father Gabriel.