Away From the Dark (The Light #2)(83)

“Brother Dylan, is it really you?” I asked, pretending not to recognize his voice.

“Shit, yes, it’s me.”

My cheeks rose as a small smile crept across my lips. I’d never before noticed how much he cussed. Living in The Light, where vulgarities were frowned upon, made each one he uttered sound foreign. I marveled at how, in the Northern Light, even my thoughts had been without vulgarities—well, until my memories returned. Using vulgarities was the transgression Jacob had chosen as being in need of correction in Fairbanks.

Turning the small latch within the doorknob, I opened one of the doors. Keeping my eyes down, I watched as Dylan’s boots crossed the threshold onto the red carpet, then quickly shut the door, mindful to again turn the latch. The tray he’d been carrying clattered as he placed it on Father Gabriel’s desk near Fred and his phone.

“I made you a sandwich and brought you some water,” he offered, as if a sandwich could make up for what I’d been through. “I almost got you a beer, but then I remembered the pregnant thing. I didn’t know if you should have tea. So, well, I settled for water. I hope that’s all right.”

Beer. I hadn’t even thought of beer in months. Suddenly memories of the two of us came to mind. I recalled evenings on his back deck with beers while he grilled, but just as quickly I remembered that he was the one who’d handed me over to his uncle. Taking a deep breath was all I needed to solidify my more recent memories, those of hours ago in the basement of this horrible place at the mercy of Brother Mark. When I inhaled, the white dress tugged and pulled against the new lashes, pushing any pleasant thoughts away and doing what they were intended to do: remind me.

“Thank you,” I said quietly. “It’s very kind of you.”

He motioned toward the food. “Do you want a chair, or would you rather—?”

“Standing is fine,” I replied, hoping that my pain inflicted guilt.

When I didn’t move closer, he asked, “Are you going to eat?”

“I’m waiting, for you.”

“Me? I ate earlier.” The confusion in his voice was audible.

“Brother Dylan, I’m waiting for you to bless the food so I may eat.”

“Shit, yeah, well, I did that already. So go ahead and eat.”

When he reached for the phone I’d left on the desk, my heart skipped a beat. I was grateful I hadn’t made a call.

“You erased the number I put in here? What if someone had come?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do. I was holding it. I think I touched something, and it went dark.” I smiled at my own creativity as I took a long drink of water. My amusement quickly faded as I noticed my empty ring finger and my thoughts went to Jacob.

“It’s all right. I’m back.”

“Why?” I asked, taking a bite of the turkey sandwich. As my teeth sank into the soft bread I realized how hungry I’d become and almost hummed at the taste of mayonnaise. I hadn’t eaten that since before The Light, and the unique gooiness was like heaven on my tongue.

“What?” Dylan asked.

I put the sandwich down and lowered my chin. “I’m sorry. I know better than to question a man. It is my biggest struggle. I just don’t understand why you’re being nice to me. No one else is.”

“I had a talk with Mariam. Things will be different.”

I nodded, again reaching for my sandwich. When I did, my breathing hitched as Dylan covered my hand with his. “I know it doesn’t make sense to you, but if it did, I’d tell you that I didn’t have a choice.”

Bullshit! We all have choices.

I bit my lip, doing my best to keep my Sara persona intact. The part of me that was Stella was no longer reliving pleasant memories. She was ready to take Dylan out for the hell he’d put her through.

“My uncle won’t be back here for at least a few days. I’m trying to come up with something.”

“Brother,” I said, conscious that the title made him uncomfortable, “I don’t want to stay here. I want to go back to my husband.” A real tear crept down my cheek. “I don’t want to be a bride of The Light. I know by not accepting this honor that Sister Mariam spoke of, I deserve to be punished, but I don’t want the honor.”

With each word I spoke about brides of The Light and honor, Dylan’s hand upon mine tensed.

“Here,” he said, scooting the phone closer to me. “Take this again. I put my number back in it. Don’t touch anything unless you need me. I have a few more people I need to talk to before I can leave you alone. Just stay quiet and finish your dinner.”

“Yes, Brother.”

He huffed and pointed toward a door I’d explored earlier. “There’s a bathroom, if you need it. Remember, don’t let anyone in but me.”

“Yes, Broth . . . Dylan.”

And just like that, he left me alone for the second time. I wasn’t sure whom he was going to speak to or whether it would help. No matter how convenient it would be, I wasn’t willing to put my faith in him. It was already taken by Jacob’s promise.

After I finished the sandwich and water, I looked out the window at the colorful pool. No matter what I did, my mind drifted to the Northern Light. I worried about Jacob and the envelope Father Gabriel had mentioned. I worried about Benjamin and Raquel. Father Gabriel had said something about speaking with them. He’d said it was no longer an issue. I didn’t want to even consider what that meant.