Away From the Dark (The Light #2)(79)

“Why are you shaking?”

“I’m scared. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me or to Jacob. And I’m . . .”

“Yes, you’re pregnant,” he said, with palpable defeat evident in his voice.

“No, well, yes, but that’s not what I was going to say. I know I can’t question, but I’m hungry. I was downstairs. No one brought me anything to eat.”

For the first time, I saw Dylan’s smile, the one I remembered. “Of course you are, it’s after ten o’clock, and this is something that I can do something about. Let me get you some food.”

My skin prickled with alarm. “I don’t know.”

“What?”

“You’re being nice, but so far, you’re the only one. What if someone sees me, and I’m not allowed to eat? Withholding nutrients is an acceptable decree.”

Dylan’s eyes closed as his jaw clenched. “I hate hearing you spout doctrine.”

Bowing my head, I whispered, “We all study Father Gabriel’s word.”

He touched my chin, and this time I didn’t flinch. “I don’t need to hear it. And don’t,” he said, lifting my face to his, “be sorry. I’m sorry.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out his phone. “I’ll go get you something from the kitchen. No one will say anything to me. You can stay in here. Lock the door and don’t let anyone but me back inside. Here”—he swiped the screen of his phone—“I have two phones. One’s for MOA . . . never mind . . . anyway, I just put the number of my other phone in this one. If anyone tries to get in here before I get back, call me.” He put the phone in my hand. “Can you do that?”

“I don’t know.”

The warmth of his grasp encased mine as he closed my fingers around the phone. “You can. I give you permission.”

I shook my head. “That’s not how it works.”

“Here it does.”

The sound of my own heartbeat echoed in my ears as I stared down at the phone in my hand. By the time I turned, Dylan was opening the door, and before he walked away, he turned the small latch on the inside doorknob. With only a nod and a half smile, he closed the door, locking me in and him out.

This was my chance, my chance to escape this hell.

Careful not to drop his phone with my shaking hands, I stepped cautiously to the door and jiggled the handle. It was locked. Really lifting my eyes for the first time, I scanned the office and searched for cameras. I couldn’t be sure whether Dylan had been truthful when he’d said this room wasn’t under surveillance, nor was I adept at recognizing secret cameras. My only experience was with the ones Jacob had pointed out in the outbuilding’s living quarters. From what I could assess in the nice office, there weren’t any.

That would make sense. Father Gabriel probably did a lot of business from inside this room that he didn’t want recorded.

Hurry! Call someone! How much time do I have?

My list of candidates came fast and furious—my parents, my sister, Bernard, Foster, or Tracy. If only I could call the FBI. Calling the police was out of the question. Dylan was police—not Bloomfield Hills, but he was a detective. I zeroed in on Bernard. My old boss could help me. He was the only one with the connections to help. As I searched my memory, I had the strangest sensation of knowledge so close, yet out of reach. And then I remembered.

I remember Bernard’s cell number!

I swiped the phone and backspaced through Dylan’s number. The trembling in my hands increased, not out of fear, but out of excitement and relief. This was really almost over. Holy shit! This would be the biggest news story of Bernard Cooper’s career, of my career. I’d be just like Jacob, going undercover and infiltrating The Light.

My heart clenched. Just like Jacob . . .

Jacob . . . all his work. The FBI. Kool-Aid. My friends.

Oh my God! If I do this, I may save myself, but at what cost?





CHAPTER 30


Jacob


The door to our empty apartment weighed hundreds—no, thousands—of pounds. The simple act of opening it was almost more than I could bear. Since I was back in the community, checking our apartment first for the envelope made the most sense.

Once inside, I stood, slowly turning and taking everything in. It was all her. Yes, the other sisters had decorated so Sara would think we’d lived here, but over the last nine months, she’d added her own touch. I stared at the throw pillows she’d been so excited to find at the store. Knowing she couldn’t do it without my permission, she hadn’t purchased them on her own. But I remembered the night, at dinner, when her eyes sparkled as she told me about them. A splash of color was what she’d called them. Though I was tired, and it was one of our few nontemple nights, we hurried to the store before it closed. If it were possible, I’d never tell her no.

The deafening silence tore at my insides. Not only was our apartment silent, but so was the one next door, Benjamin and Raquel’s. I palmed my temples and squeezed. This was so hard. Maybe I wasn’t cut out for this. School, training, academy . . . f*ck! None of it was like real life. With every fiber of my being, I wanted Father Gabriel to go down. Hell, after what he’d just pulled, as well as three years’ worth of offenses, I wanted him to suffer, but he wouldn’t be the only one.