Into the Light (14 page)

CHAPTER 14

Sara

The clank of the belt buckle hitting the floor alerted me to the end of my sentence. My whimpers and Jacob’s labored breaths were the only sounds bouncing off the bathroom walls and rumbling through my head. The last spoken word had come from my lips—
five
. Though it was gone, the memory of it continued to echo in the distance.

Five. Five. Five
.

My heart clenched, forgetting its normal rhythm, and seized in my chest as my bare breasts lay flat against the cool, smooth vanity top. Uncertainty paralyzed me, making me immobile while the counter’s edge dug deeper into my hips, and my toes throbbed from supporting my weight. Not only couldn’t I move, more importantly, I hadn’t received permission to do so. By some miracle my hands were still where Jacob had placed them, their grip a vise, keeping me suspended and saving me from falling. Though my hands had done what he instructed, I hadn’t been the one to keep them there.

I’d left. Not literally. No, literally, I was captive in a life I detested from the depths of my soul. I completely understood why I didn’t remember: I didn’t want to. I’d left metaphorically, in an out-of-body experience. However, my reprieve had been short-lived, and now I was back. Though the punishment was done, the pain went on. Each lash of Jacob’s belt burned like fire through my nervous system. Synapse after synapse sparked with impulses until my entire body was consumed by flames.

“Sara, you may let go of the counter.”

It took a moment before my brain and hands worked together. I heard his voice, yet the vise wouldn’t loosen. When it finally did, my arms dropped to my sides. With my cheek still against the counter, I waited.

“Stand up and give me your hand.”

The belt hadn’t struck only my behind, but also the tops of my thighs. Transferring my weight brought back the intensity of each strike. Biting my lip, I tasted the copper of my blood. Maybe I had bitten a hole through it, as Jacob had predicted. I stood straighter, still facing the sink, lowered my chin to my chest, and lifted my hand.

Taking my hand, Jacob guided it toward my wounds. The tips of my fingers detected the raised skin. My fingertips flinched back, as if the evidence of his correction were actual fire, trails of hot coals waiting to cause more destruction.

“Do you feel the welts?”

I nodded.

“Sara, this punishment was done to help you remember. Do you need more help remembering to speak when I ask you a question?”

“No, I remember.” My voice choked hoarsely. It wasn’t that I’d cried out; I hadn’t. I’d remained silent throughout the correction, except for speaking the numbers I’d been required to say. “Yes, I feel them.”

“Your skin isn’t broken. I told you I’d never cause irreparable damage.” Once again he guided my hand to the welts. “If you could see, I’d have you look at them. They’re red, raised, and angry markings on your pale skin.”

I swallowed the sobs that shook my shoulders as I envisioned each welt.

“As you may or may not remember, five is the standard number of strikes per infraction. How many infractions did you commit?”

My heart raced to the point of making me faint. I couldn’t take ten more. I couldn’t. Turning my body toward his, I lifted my face and pleaded. Panic spilled from my voice. “Three. Please don’t . . . I . . . can’t . . .”

He softly brushed my cheek. “Stop. I said your honesty earned you leniency. Five is all you’ll get today.”

I nodded as the relief of his clemency washed over me.

“Sara, I wanted you to touch the welts because they’re your reminders not to question. Tonight when you walk or sit, each time you feel the pain, consider it a cue to think before you speak. Can you do that?”

“Yes.”

He pulled a tissue from the box and wiped my cheeks. “It’s up to you if more reminders will be necessary. I can’t allow you to embarrass me in front of Father Gabriel or anyone else. Even your behavior in front of Elizabeth was unacceptable. I’ll need to discuss it with Brother Luke. As I’ve said before, it’s up to you. Only you can decide if today’s correction will help you behave appropriately or if you’ll need more assistance. Sara, will you need more reminders?”

I ran my fingers over the fiery raised skin again, suddenly intrigued by the sensations. “No, Jacob. I’m sorry I embarrassed you.” I fought to catch my breath. “I’d like to avoid future reminders.”

His lips brushed my forehead. “Very good. So would I.”

The eerie calmness that had infiltrated his voice since he’d come back to my room this afternoon faded. As emotion returned to his tone, I found myself drawn to the man who had praised my answer.

“Now,” Jacob continued, tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear. “That’s done. Let’s get us both ready for service.”

“I . . . you . . . please, let me stay here.”

“Nonsense. No one, not even the wife of an Assemblyman, can refuse a direct invitation from Father Gabriel; besides, I’m happy to have you at my side again as we enter the temple.”

“But . . .”

“Sara, this is over. Remember what I said before? Correction works well, because the responsibility is transferred from you to me. You have your reminders to help you avoid future correction, but this infraction, as well as punishment, is done. It’s history and now it’s time to move on. We need to eat and change. We have service in an hour and a half, and as part of the Assembly, we must arrive in a timely manner.”

As I contemplated the service with so many people I couldn’t remember, the panic returned. Though I had five painful reasons reinforcing why I shouldn’t, I leaned into Jacob’s chest. The softness of his shirt brushed my cheek as his heartbeat drummed at my ear. Slowly his arms surrounded me, bringing warmth and security. I wrapped my arms around his trim waist, and for the first time that I could remember, really felt the firmness of his torso. My tears finally stopped, but I couldn’t speak. Instead my naked body molded to his, silently saying what my lips couldn’t admit.

I wasn’t sure how to describe my whirlwind of emotions. I wasn’t sure I could have if I’d been asked. The entire time I was bent over the vanity and the numbers came from my lips, I’d hated the man delivering the pain. It was an all-consuming hate, one that filled every cell of my body. In those minutes I’d understood why I’d blocked out the memories of my life: it was because they were too awful to remember. Red like the color Jacob described, as well as the blood that trickled from my lip, had filled my unseeing eyes. Hatred such as I couldn’t recall had scratched like a wildcat to break free, to scream vulgarities and proclaim its presence.

And then it was over and now his voice was back.

CHAPTER 15

Jacob

Though my training told me to walk away and let Sara deal with the consequences of her correction alone, my body refused to cooperate. I tried to resist, but when she melted into me, with her body trembling, my arms took on a mind of their own. As I embraced her petite form, she stole another piece of my heart, a piece that was never meant to be shared. I’d carried her and helped her, but never had I truly held her, not like this. When she was engulfed in my hold, our size difference became suddenly apparent. I was wearing boots and she was completely nude, and I towered over her by nearly a head. With her face pressed against my chest my resolve shattered as my internal battle raged.

Sara had been found guilty of forgetting a rule she’d never known, and as her husband, I was responsible for delivering the punishment. I understood the principle of the correction, but
this
wasn’t theory: it was reality.

I had held the leather belt in my hand and sensed the vibration as it crashed down upon her fragile body. Each strike had marred not only her but also me. As she’d spoken the numbers I demanded, I’d reminded myself that this was for her success and survival; nevertheless that reasoning hadn’t appeased my self-loathing. She should hate me, not only for this, but for everything, yet here she was clinging to my shirt and waist as if she were holding on for dear life, afraid that if she let go, she might fly away, like dust in the wind. That wouldn’t happen. I wouldn’t let it. I couldn’t.

I hadn’t chosen Sara as my wife; then again, I hadn’t refused her. That wasn’t even possible. If I had, all that I’d accomplished and learned would have been lost. For me to succeed, she needed to as well. As we stood silent, apart from her occasional ragged breaths, for minutes upon minutes, she wrapped in my arms, I resolved that though the stakes were high, I was all in. She hadn’t asked for this nor did she know how she’d complicated my mission, but she was here, and if this was what I needed to do for both of us to succeed, I would.

Sara’s trembling finally calmed, yet her shoulders continued to quake with each broken gasp. Looking to the mirror, I saw the long unfettered ringlets of gold that flowed around her face and over my arms. No longer was her hair secured in the braid she’d woven this morning. Now it cascaded down her back, swaying slightly with each breath. I worked to keep my eyes on her hair and not look lower, but my gaze was pulled to the horror and evidence of my punishment—the reminders—I’d left behind. Five distinctively long, angry welts crisscrossed her firm round bottom and extended below onto her toned upper thighs. With the bathroom lighting, the redness glowed in stark contrast to the paleness of her complexion.

My chest continued to dampen as her tears soaked my shirt. Rubbing her bare back gently up and down, I stayed conscious of her skin and mindful to keep my large hand from straying to where it’d been marked. I’d caused her enough pain. In the three weeks since her arrival and incident, she’d begun to heal. My chest ached with the knowledge that her beautiful skin was once again spoiled, and this time I was responsible.

Each time I started to move, she burrowed closer, settling herself not only under my skin, but deeper into my heart. My body reacted as any man’s would to the closeness of a naked woman, but I knew it wasn’t time. Sara needed comfort, not sex. If we came together now, she’d forever associate sex with punishment, and when the time came, that wasn’t what I wanted nor did I want it to be
sex
. When the time was right, I wanted to make love to the woman in my arms.

My belt lay curled on the tile floor by our feet, like a snake ready to strike. Its vile venom had hurt Sara, soaking into her flesh and causing her agony. If it had been a real snake, I’d have ripped its head from its long coiled body. Its fangs would no longer strike, and she’d be able to sleep soundly knowing the danger was gone. But that wouldn’t happen. To her the danger was me. She didn’t understand the levels and powers at work in our lives. She could never know the true danger that lurked around each corner. The only way to keep her safe was to stay on course. Her only objective was to embrace Sara and become Sara. Her conformity to The Light was the only means of saving her.

“Sara,” I said, lifting her chin and seeing the blotches of red on her cheeks and neck. “We need to get ready. Raquel went home to prepare for service, so I’m going to cover your cast and put you in a warm shower.” The way her body tensed, I knew what she was thinking. “The warm water will sting at first, but with time it’ll make your welts feel better. I also have some ointment that you’ve said helped in the past.”

My words were a grave. With each statement about the past we’d never shared I dug deeper and deeper.

She nodded against my shirt, and then, as if remembering to speak, she said, “If you say so.”

I kissed her hair. “I do. I also think we should change your bandages around your eyes. Dr. Newton said it’s not good to allow them to stay damp.”

“All right.” Her shoulders sagged while her voice carried a faraway tone, like a sad melody that had lost its zeal. I wanted obedience, not a lifeless zombie. Somehow I had to discover the way to help her find that place of contentment, the place where she was safe and happy and in accordance with Father Gabriel’s Light.

I directed her to sit on the closed toilet. As she did, I remembered finding her there before . . . before I’d broken her. When her sore bottom connected with the cool seat, her lower lip disappeared between her teeth. It took every ounce of control I had not to fall to my knees and beg for her forgiveness. I couldn’t. According to The Light this was her doing, not mine.

“I’m going to wrap your cast first,” I said once she was settled.

“Does everyone go to service?”

I didn’t know if she was trying to get her mind on other things, but if so, I’d gladly help. “Yes,” I replied. “This is a big community. We all have jobs, but Sunday and Wednesday service are the only time that all jobs stop. Well, except for the powerhouse; that can’t stop.”

“Pow—” She stopped herself, then rephrased. “May I ask what that is?”

She is learning.

“It’s what it sounds like. It’s the place where hydropower turns turbines. They then work generators that supply power to our entire community.”

“Like water?”

“Yes, though wind would work, it’d be more visible and less predictable. As long as the river flows, we have power.”

“Will you tell me where we are, or is that something I need to wait to learn?”

I finished securing the plastic around her cast, reached for her hand, and helped her stand. Though it had to feel better to stand, she still grimaced with the movement. “Like I said before, we came here together, you and I. You knew where we were coming since before we arrived. You knew we were moving to the Northern Light, in Far North, Alaska.”

As her head moved slowly from side to side her hair fell about her face. “I don’t understand how it’s all gone—my memory. It seems like I’d remember moving to Alaska or where we lived before.”

“We don’t have time to wash your hair,” I said, changing the subject and removing the old hair tie dangling uselessly from a few strands of her hair. Once it was free, I raked my fingers down the length of blonde. “Besides, we washed it this morning and it still looks good. You’ll need to redo your braid—it fell out.”

“Do I have to keep it in a braid?”

The small fraction of emotion in her question made my cheeks rise. “Of course not. That’s how you wore it most of the time in the past. That’s why I mentioned it.”

“Oh,” she sighed. “Raquel mentioned a messy bun once. I think I’d like a messy bun for service.” Her voice softened as she added, “If that’s all right with you.”

“As long as you remember how to secure it, it’s fine. I can help with a lot, but you don’t want me fixing your hair.”

At the sound of my self-deprecating statement, she lifted her face toward mine, and her lips formed a stunning smile. In that grin she planted a glimmer of hope for our future. I felt the small seedling in my chest, its shell broken by roots that needed care, sunshine, and nutrients. I prayed a silent prayer to Father Gabriel that one day it would bloom.

“Here,” I said as I handed her the hairbrush.

These weeks that she was required to spend without sight gave me the clear advantage. I could stare and study my wife without her being self-conscious. As she brushed her hair, I watched, admiring how truly beautiful she was, especially now that her cheeks were mostly clear. The earlier bruising and more recent red blotches were about gone, revealing her creamy soft skin. Though the purple of her throat had faded considerably, now merely a brown tint, it still needed to be covered. That was why Raquel had gotten Sara the turtleneck sweater.

Tonight would be Sara’s first introduction to the followers. Everyone in the community understood the importance of making each follower feel welcomed. Newly acquired members were different. They didn’t realize they were new. For that reason they were primarily surrounded by people who’d help with their acclimation. The entire Assembly and Commission, and their wives, were Sara’s support group . . . well, with the exception of Brother Timothy and Sister Lilith. Since Brother Daniel was my overseer, he’d also become Sara’s. That was why Sister Ruth had stepped in with her training. After Sara’s breakdown, I’d gone to both of them privately and discussed my concern. I didn’t ask for Sister Ruth’s help, as that could have caused more problems with Lilith and Brother Timothy. However, I placed a bet on Sister Ruth’s caring nature; my wager paid off.

As Lilith had explained to Sara, as an Assemblyman’s wife, she held a special place of honor. For that, as well as other reasons, her transition into The Light was more difficult than that of a mere follower. Yet at the same time, the people in this inner circle of the chosen knew the way into The Light better than anyone, and would do their best to facilitate her success.

“There, that will work for my shower,” she announced as she fastened the clip I’d recently handed her behind her head. I grinned at the blanched spot on her lip. She’d had it securely tucked between her teeth as she concentrated on her hair. With her announcement she’d released it, allowing the pink to return.

As the warm water assaulted her backside, her grip on my hand tightened. Insensitively I choked out the words I knew to say. “Will you remember not to question?”

“Yes, Jacob,” she replied through gritted teeth.

It took a little time, but when her muscles relaxed, I knew she was finally more comfortable. Once she was out of the shower, I applied the ointment, explaining the whole time how it had helped her in the past. We turned off the light in the bathroom, and I replaced the bandages around her eyes. It wasn’t until she was dressed and ready for service that she mentioned her punishment.

“I assume I’ll be sitting at the service.”

It was the first time I’d seen my wife, as my wife, in anything other than a nightgown. I couldn’t help but stare at her splendor. She’d done as she’d asked to and secured her hair near the nape of her neck. Her turtleneck was black and ribbed, fitting snugly to her breasts, and disappeared at her small waist into the skirt that stopped about midcalf. The skirt was made of a blue-jean material. Over the turtleneck she wore a jacket that matched the skirt. The boot she wore on her right foot went almost to her knee and had a heel that nearly matched the height of the cast. With it on, she walked better than she had with slippers. Raquel had chosen her clothes, including the white bra and panties hidden beneath. Around Sara’s neck I’d secured a necklace. Dangling from the chain was a silver cross. It was an exact duplicate of the one worn by all the Assembly and Commission wives.

There was something about Sara’s presence and confidence, despite her punishment, that mesmerized me. As I stared at her, the only thing I could think, the only thing that registered, was that she was mine. All mine. Though my mind recognized the errors of our ways, in this world she was mine. Father Gabriel and The Light had given her to me, uniting us as husband and wife.

I tried to concentrate on her statement.

“Yes,” I replied as she walked confidently toward me and the table that held our dinner.

Somewhat nervously she reached for her new necklace and slid the silver cross from side to side. Taking a deep breath, she dropped her chin a bit and asked, “May I please stand to eat?”

“Why, Sara?”

Yes, I am an ass.

“Because my reminders are still sore, and if you’ll allow me, I’d like to let them rest.”

She was more perfect than I’d ever imagined. It wasn’t that in reality I needed this submission, but damn, it was hot. “What’s the purpose of the pain?” I asked.

“It’s to remind me to think before I speak and to not question.”

“If I allow you to stand, will you continue to remember?”

As her lip quivered, twisting the knife in my heart, she replied, “Yes, I’ll remember.”

“You may stand.”

“Thank you.”

So insanely hot!

I readjusted myself, lessening the physical pressure of my obvious attraction.

We’d practiced walking about the room, but leaving the clinic was different. She had to completely trust me and allow me to lead her through a dark world. With her coat and gloves secured, we made our way out of her room, down the quiet halls, and out into the cold night. As she breathed the frigid air, I asked, “Are you all right? It’s been a few weeks since you were out of the clinic.”

With her petite hand wrapped in mine, she replied, “I am, as long as you’re with me.”

The thing was, I knew without a doubt that she meant it. In this warped world, I was her anchor. It was the plan from the beginning, but the fact that it had worked both elated and sickened me. She deserved a hell of a lot more than this.

Once we were in the temple, we were greeted by everyone. Though I’d given her only a brief synopsis on how to respond, she did so appropriately. To those she didn’t know, she smiled and nodded, all the while holding tight to my hand. It wasn’t until we met up with Brother Benjamin and Sister Raquel that we released our grip, and I placed her hand in Raquel’s.