I was playing with fire, but I had to try. Through the last few days I’d gotten better at lying, something Sara or any other woman of The Light would never do. Now it was time to go for broke.
“It was a test,” I went on, “a test designed by Father Gabriel, and you failed. He does care about me. I’m the wife of an Assemblyman. I didn’t want to leave. I said what he told me to say. It was for The Light. You’re new. Father Gabriel was testing your response. You failed.”
With each of my phrases, Thomas’s confident grin dimmed as the color faded from his ruddy cheeks. “You’re lying. You’re lying to save your ass.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and turned toward the window. “You can either take me back and suck up to Father Gabriel or you can let me go and I’ll contact my husband.”
He’d unbuckled his seat belt and was fully turned toward me in his seat. “How the fuck are you supposed to do that? You people don’t have phones.”
I lifted my chin confidently. “The chosen men do. I’ve been told how to reach my husband.” This was it. It was all or nothing. “Besides, he’s a pilot. He’ll come get me.”
Thomas’s shoulders relaxed and he shook his head. “Bitch, you had me going for a minute. I’m going to enjoy tanning your—”
“What?” I asked incredulously. “My husband is a pilot.”
“No way, I heard how you yelled for Micah.”
I shook my head. “Not Brother Micah. I’m Jacob’s wife.” I fumbled for my necklace, pulling it from beneath my sweater. “See this necklace? It’s only worn by the chosen. Jacob’s on the Assembly and Father Gabriel’s pilot!”
“Fuck!”
When he opened his door, I quickly unbuckled my seat belt and scooted toward the other side of the plane. My heart beat in double time as I fumbled with the handle. My efforts were in vain, though; it was locked. My blue eyes grew as big as saucers when Thomas peered through the window, undoubtedly knowing I’d wanted to escape. My mind was a blur. I prayed to God and Father Gabriel for a miracle I didn’t deserve.
Just as Thomas began to open my door, out of nowhere two men in dark jackets with badges came running forward. The front door of the plane was still open, and through the wind I could hear raised voices. The men were yelling at Thomas, and one had a gun drawn.
I stared in disbelief as Thomas forgot about me and spun in their direction. There was a split second when his body twitched in indecision. He might have considered running, but just as fast, he lifted his hands in the air. Between the wind and my blood rushing in my ears, it was as if the rest of the world were on mute. I couldn’t make out their words. Instead, it was as if I were watching a silent film and praying the good guys would win.
I sat statuesque as one of the men secured Thomas’s hands behind his back and led him away. Maybe if I remained still, they wouldn’t know I was here. And then the other man in a dark jacket looked through my window. When he nodded, I knew my wish wouldn’t come true.
Opening the door, he asked, “Ma’am, are you all right?”
I let out the breath I’d been holding and replied, “A-are you the police?”
“No, ma’am, US Marshals.” He offered me his hand.
I stepped from the plane, contemplating which story I should lead with: I was taken against my will almost a year ago, or I was taken earlier today. “Thank you,” I said softly, forcing myself to look into the older gentleman’s eyes.
“Ma’am, what happened to your cheek?”
I lowered my eyes. “It was him.”
The marshal’s jaw clenched as he reached for his phone. “Excuse me, I need to make this call.”
I stared momentarily at his phone, then nodded and wrapped my arms around my body as the wind blew my hair around my face. While the marshal spoke quietly, I turned completely around and took in the small private tarmac. It wasn’t the way I’d planned it, but I didn’t care.
I was finally free.
Relief flooded my system and a renegade tear slid down my cheek.
It was over. It was really over.
I was no longer trapped in someone else’s life in the circumpolar North. I was alive, with a US Marshal, in the city of Fairbanks.
When he finished his call, the marshal turned back my way and offered me his hand to shake. “Ma’am, my name is Deputy Hill.”
Willing the inner voice, the one I’d worked hard to suppress, the one I now knew was the real me—Stella—to emerge, I trepidatiously accepted his hand. “Thank you, Deputy Hill, may I please use your phone?”
I supposed I should have introduced myself, but I wasn’t thinking straight. With my first objective accomplished, I needed to call Dylan.
Deputy Hill’s dark aviators reflected the afternoon sun as he glanced from his phone to my face. “Let’s get you to the safety of the station first. You’ve had a traumatic experience.” If he only knew. “We have a female marshal who can assure your well-being and then we can progress.”