Chapter 16

chapter

sixteen

That's why I can't love you…

If she'd taken a knife and carved his heart out of his chest, it would've hurt less.

That was it, wasn't it? The crux of the matter. It wasn't who he had defended or even what Jax had done. It was that he had chosen his belief in redemption over her. He had chosen ethics over love.

And that was a choice he would go on to regret for years and years to come.

For a few moments, he just stood there, letting the words wash over him, slowly removing the veneer of hope he had clung so desperately to. He wanted to say something, anything, but what could he possibly say that would make a difference? What could he say that would change the irrefutable truth?

He took a step towards her—a move born out of instinct more than rationale. But she held up a hand, her eyes hard yet glistening with unshed tears. "Don't."

His heart broke again at the sight of her pain, the pain he had caused. His knees threatened to buckle underneath him, and without a word, he turned and left the room.

The outdoors did little to provide him any solace. The trees were too tall, too big. Claustrophobic. The gardens appeared dull and lifeless, every vibrant color seemingly stripped away. He walked with no destination in mind and found himself in front of Vigil's cabin.

Yes. This he could handle. Focus on the problem of the girl.

He went to the door and knocked. No answer, but that wasn't really a surprise. Vigil was probably at the workshops like everyone else or patrolling the commune's grounds or?—

A soft thump sounded from inside.

"Vigil?"

He raised his hand to knock again when the door creaked open an inch, then more, revealing the man himself. Behind him stood Sincere and a woman with short, sleek brown hair, high cheekbones, and dark eyes that seemed to miss nothing.

There was a pause, an awkward beat that went on longer than it should have.

"Sorry to interrupt," Cal said, already backing away. "I'll come back later."

"No, no need," Vigil said, stepping forward to hold the door wide open, his expression unreadable. "We were just wrapping up some business and could use a fresh perspective. Join us?"

The woman's eyes bugged. "Is this a good idea?"

Vigil glanced back at her and lowered his voice. "He knows about the girl."

She shook her head and paced away, rubbing her hands over her face. "Shit. This is bad. If newcomers already know?—"

"He's here because of her." He met Cal's gaze. "Aren't you?"

This meeting was not like the structured workshops, and these people didn't radiate the practiced tranquility of the commune's other members. Suspicion and fear lurked in the corners of the cabin, slithering underfoot, hanging heavy in the air.

Curious, Cal stepped in, shutting the door firmly behind him. "Yes, I am."

The interior of Vigil's cabin was simple and utilitarian. There was a single bed, a chest of drawers, and no other adornments. The room was lit only by a small window, and dust particles twinkled in the beam of sunlight streaming through it.

"You already know Sincere," Vigil said, then nodded toward the woman. "That's Clarity. She teaches our children."

"More like indoctrinates them," Clarity muttered. "And I really wish you'd stop calling me by my Embraced name. My name is Evelyn."

"It's too dangerous to get out of the habit." Vigil shook his head and faced Cal. "True called you when she escaped, didn't she?"

True.

He finally had a name for the girl. It was somehow both a relief andan added weight. She wasn't just a voice on his phone or the girl on the video anymore. She had a name, an identity. It made her real.

"I think you already know the answer to that."

Evelyn—Clarity—bit her lip, casting a wary glance at Cal before turning to face Vigil. "This is insane. You can't just bring an outsider into this! How do we know we can trust him?"

Vigil ignored her protests. "You're here to help her." A statement, not a question.

After a day filled with vagueness, Cal respected his straightforwardness and returned it in kind. "Yes, I am."

Clarity flapped her arms in annoyance. "Vig?—"

"He's a lawyer," Vigil snapped. "He might be able to help us legally."

"I'm a defense attorney, but, yeah, I may be able to help depending on what you need." Cal studied the group. "What is this? A coup?"

"More like a prison break," Clarity said. "We want out."

Sincere nodded. "Serenity, my wife, won't leave. She's too loyal to Hopeful. Truthfully, I think she's in love with him."

"So you want a divorce?"

"If that's what it takes. We have two boys—an eight-year-old and a three-year-old—and I want our kids as far away from here as possible."

"Are the kids in danger here?"

The trio exchanged a glance filled with unspoken words.

Finally, Clarity nodded. "Hopeful had me close down the school. He said—" Her voice caught, and she exhaled hard before starting again. "He said we don't need it anymore because our kids will be granted the gift of eternal youth. They'll never grow up, so they never need to learn." Tears spilled from her eyes. "I have a two-year-old daughter. I moved here with her because the school here really was doing amazing things for the kids. They're all smarter. They test higher than the state average. I liked the communal living and thought she'd be safer here than in a public school."

"But it's gotten weird," Sincere said. "This place isn't what it started out as."

Cal glanced at Vigil. "And what about you?"

He shook his head. "I don't have kids."

"Then what's your stake in this?"

A muscle in his jaw ticked. "I just don't like where it's headed."

Yeah, the guy still wasn't telling the full truth. Cal didn't know how he knew it because Vigil had the poker face to beat all poker faces, but he did. "So why not just leave?"

"People who leave…" Clarity trailed off like she didn't know how to end that sentence and looked at Sincere for help.

"Disappear," he finished. "We had a couple stay after last year's retreat, but a few weeks ago, they started voicing doubts. Within days, their cabin was cleaned out. It's the one you're in now."

That was not a comforting thought.

And he'd left Ellie there alone?

Fuck.

"I've looked for them," Vigil added. "They're gone. No trace. They either went into witness protection or never made it off this mountain. And I have enough contacts in security circles that I'd know if they'd got swept up in WITSEC."

Cal eyed the man. He'd spent enough time around the former soldiers of Redwood Coast Rescue to spot one. They all carried themselves a certain way and spoke with a kind of authority that civilians lacked. "You were military."

Vigil didn't confirm or deny.

Well, shit. That could only mean one thing—he hadn't just been regular military. He'd been in spec ops. He could prove to be a powerful ally… or a dangerous enemy.

"What were their names? The couple that disappeared?" He'd give the information to Pierce to check out.

"Benjamin and Olivia Harrington," Vigil said.

Cal's heart dropped. "Who?"

Again, the trio exchanged a glance.

"You know them?" Clarity asked.

"Ben Harrington was a client. He was arrested last year for DUI. It was his third, and he was facing jail time because he hit a pedestrian. I got him released on bond, and he skipped town."

"So maybe they're just hiding?" Clarity said, turning to Vigil. "Maybe they disappeared of their own volition. Maybe someone found out they were wanted, and that's why they left."

Vigil's lips thinned into a hard line. He shook his head. "That doesn't explain why they left all of their possessions behind. They had a stash of money in their cabin. You need money to live in the outside world, and they didn't take it."

"But why would Hopeful kill them?" Clarity's voice trembled, her face pale. "He preaches peace and love."

Sincere snorted. "Hopeful preaches whatever suits him best."

"What about the girl?" Cal asked. "She tried to leave. What happened to her?"

Clarity anxiously twisted her hand in the flowing belt of her light blue robe, then released it, then wound it up around her palm again. Judging by the belt's frayed end, it was an ongoing nervous tic of hers. "We haven't seen her since she was brought back."

That was what Cal was afraid of. If the girl was dead, it would crush Ellie. And, honestly, him too. He'd forever wonder if he could've done something differently to help her in time. He drew a fortifying breath, steeling himself against the answer to his next question. "Did Hopeful kill her?"

"Doubtful," Sincere said. "She's his daughter and he's always held her up as some kind of prophet. He won't kill her, but he's almost certainly holding her captive somewhere and punishing her for trying to leave."

Cal decided to take a chance. Maybe it was foolish, but if he could get the answers he needed now, he could take Ellie away from here before she was in any real danger. "What about the girl's mother? Hope?"

Clarity covered a sharp gasp with her hand. "How do you know about Hope?"

"I have my sources." Cal knew he had crossed a line and going back wasn't an option. Each revelation was another step towards the precipice of danger. He couldn't put the brakes on now – not when Ellie was involved, not when innocent lives were at stake.

Sincere broke the tense silence that followed. "Hope… is gone."

"Did she escape?"

"No," Clarity said so softly that Cal had to strain to hear her. "Hope... she's dead." She looked down, her fingers worrying at the robe's belt again.

Dead.

Cal felt his heart stop for a beat.

Hope was dead.

This news was going to crush Ellie.

"When?"

Clarity twisted the belt of her robe around her hand again. "Just… right before you got here."

And wasn't that convenient for Hopeful? Every alarm bell Cal possessed was ringing off the hook. "How did she die?"

"I asked Serenity about it, and she said it was natural causes," Sincere answered. "The rest of the Blues all backed up that story, but…" He glanced over at Clarity, the only Blue in the room.

She shrugged helplessly. "I never saw her body. Usually, when one of us dies, the body is placed on an altar, and there's a large celebration of life so we can all say goodbye before burial, but not this time."

"Why not?"

"Hopeful claimed it was too hard on True to see her mother like that," Clarity explained. "He said he took care of the burial himself, and afterward, he built a shrine to her and started calling her Mother God. We have to pray to her every morning."

Cal squinted at them in disbelief. "And you all just accepted that?"

Vigil shrugged, his face impassive. "At the time, we had no reason not to."

"Honestly, I just thought it was his way of grieving," Clarity added. "I liked the idea that Hope was watching over us. She was my friend, and praying to her felt no different than talking to her like I always did when she was alive. But then, True disappeared..."

Sincere picked up the thread of the conversation. "We believe True found out what really happened to her mother and that's why she ran and contacted you."

Except True hadn't said her mother was dead. She'd said Hope was missing. And what about that other pale, thin woman who had appeared on the camera hours before True? He hadn't seen anyone among the commune members who looked like her. Could that have been Hope?

Cal ran a hand over his face. "Listen, I have to get back to Ellie." He'd already been gone far longer than he'd intended. "But before I go, do you have any idea where True might be hidden?"

They exchanged glances, a silent message passing between them. Clarity shrugged helplessly. "We've been searching since she disappeared. But Hopeful controls everything and everyone here. If he doesn't want her to be found, she won't be."