Into the Light (The Light #1)

Instead of clinking cups, I glared.

“Calm down. I only recently got the tip, and in light of Mindy, I think it deserves investigation. I needed to be sure that if I put you on it, you’d keep your head in the game and not let your personal life get in the way.”

I inhaled and pressed my lips together.

“I don’t only mean Detective Richards, though I don’t want him knowing what you’re doing, or, more accurately, the DPD knowing. I’m also talking about Mindy. This case could reveal nothing or it may shed light on everything. The only way to know is to do what I said, get your ass out there. Go check out what’s happening on the border today, talk to your contacts, and come back to the station this afternoon. I’ll share what I have then.”

“Thanks, Bernard. I’ll keep my phone charged. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll see you this afternoon.”

“Be there by three, unless you get something else.”

I threw a five on the table and with a wink said, “You’ve already overstepped enough bounds. I’ll get my own coffee.”





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?”