Page 3 of Into the Light

“Okay,” I whispered, sliding into the driver’s seat of the Jeep, and left Isles behind. The road ahead seemed endless, winding past the town’s stone archway. As I drove, the shock that had shielded me receded, leaving behind a torrent of emotions. The pain hit me with a force I couldn’t evade, overwhelming me.

The weight of Rain’s plea echoed in my ears. I wiped away tears and focused on steering as I navigated the descent down the mountain toward the city and the apartment.

“In and out,” I muttered to myself, my mind haunted by Ash’s final moments. Questions crowded my thoughts, each more painful than the last. As I drove, the city lights twinkled in the distance, so I knew I was close to Dansport.

I followed the road indicated by my GPS, leading me to a street that seemed like the outskirts of Isles even though we were in the city. It appeared isolated, with only imposing black gates signaling the presence of residences. However, these were not ordinary apartments; instead, they were expansive properties with grand houses adorning them.

“It must be at the edge of this area,” I said aloud to the darkness.

The GPS turned off, telling me I’d arrived at my destination.

Welcome home, I guess?

How had I arrived so quickly? I typed in the gate code, driving toward the building at the end of the driveway. It was tucked close toward the edge of the mountain. I drove past the gate toward . . . a giant ass house.

If you could even call this a house. It was a giant cabin, with wooden beams on the outside like the real life-version of Lincoln logs. I stopped at the end of the driveway and got out as the oxygen left my lungs. In a city full of high-rises and mega mansions, of course Ash would find the one house that reminded us of Isles.

I looked up at the sky and imagined Ash was here with me. The way he would say, “Mi sol, this is for you.”

I’d look back at him and be entranced by the way the corners of his lips would twist into a smile. He would wrap me in his arms, and we would sit here staring at the oasis he’d built for us in the city.

“Why?” I cried, dropping to my knees to the earth beneath me. This pain was nothing I’d ever wish upon my greatest enemy. My phone rang incessantly in the car, but nothing in that moment mattered.

Because all I needed was Ash, and he wasn’t coming back.

Chapter one

Eight Months Later

My dad had come by as I was packing the last of my house up, like he had every single day since the moment I moved out here. All his secrets were now out in the open. My father was the capo of one of the most prominent Mafia families, not by birth but through marriage. He hated it, but he was damn good at it, too.

It made me sad for him. I was proud that he did a good job, but sad he wasn’t able to live out the life he wanted to. He wanted to be a poet and an author, and love blinded him from all of that. My mother walking out on his marriage also fucked him up. But every day since I spiraled into my deep, dark place and Santiago called him, pleading with my father to assist me, he had shown up to offer some form of assistance. Sometimes, he would simply deliver food, while other times, like today, he attempted to stay and engage in conversation.

“Ember?” he rasped from the porch as I carried a few boxes out of the house and to the trunk of the car. He sounded tired, and I was close to caving and telling him I forgave him, but I didn’t believe him yet. I just . . . couldn’t.

“Dad.” I lifted my chin as I passed by him toward my car. Well, I guess it still wasn’t my car, but at this point, eight months later, I considered it mine. No one came to collect it. No one, aside from Walsh, my dad, and Marissa came at all. “I’m a little busy.”

My dad followed as I turned back toward the house where a few more cardboard boxes sat on the front steps, and he picked up a box and helped load it into the Jeep. I didn’t complain because I needed to get out of Dansport and back to Isles. School was starting soon, and I wanted to live a normal life again—as normal as I could get.

“Where’s Santiago?” my dad asked, looking around for my bodyguard. His brown hair was tousled, and his brown eyes were almost golden today, but there was worry etched into the lines on his face.

“He’s in the guesthouse. I told him I’d be okay since I was staying on the property.” It was one of the many mysteries I’d discovered since Ash’s death. I woke up the morning after I arrived in Dansport, and Santiago was on my doorstep in full tactical gear. After I insisted he change into regular clothing, we had spent everyday together since.

He told me Ash had hired him and paid him enough for “a lifetime.” I guess Rain had called to tell him when I was arriving, so he showed up ready for work. It was his responsibility to care for me and stay on the property in a guesthouse out back. I didn’t complain, because I was all alone here, refusing to see my brother, dad, or anyone else from the family.

Plus, a part of me knew this was another string that connected my life to Ash’s, and I realized over the last few months, I was desperate to hold onto every single string possible. Over time, Santiago and I had become close, and I looked up to him like a protective older brother. He dragged me out of some really dark times.

It thoroughly pissed my dad off that I accepted a bodyguard from the Cartel and notla famigliabut over the last few months, he gave up expressing that grievance and instead focused on me refusing to talk to him.

“You don’t have to go back to Isles. You can continue your online studies through them.”

I shook my head.

Following what had happened with Ash, my professors had all agreed to let me complete the last month of my freshman year and my first semester of sophomore year online. They had also extended the offer for me to continue remote learning, but I was determined to go back. I believed I’d grown strong enough to confront my fears, and I couldn’t shake thoughts of what Ash would have wished for.

I knew now that he would have wanted to see me grow, get my degree, and have the college experience I should have had. Rotting away in Dansport and not leaving, sometimes for months on end, wasn’t healthy. Finding a path to reclaim my life, even with the bone-shattering grief that was still woven tightly into me, was necessary.

“I can’t wrap my head around you buying this house,” my dad said, eyeing the grand log-cabin mansion behind us. I’d kept this one under wraps from him as well. Once we were on speaking terms, which basically meant I answered his questions when he showed up on my front steps when I’d let him in past the gate, he stumbled upon the house deed with my name on it. Truth be told, I didn’t buy it. It was a gift, but he was in the dark about that part. Knowing about Santiago was more than enough for him to chew on.

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