“Where are my letters?” I yelled, refusing to waste another second on some pointless battle of wits with my father.
He swallowed, kicking at the dirt beneath his feet. “I guess you read about that in the last letter from your boyfriend?”
Of course. He knew James had told me. “You’ve been reading my letters from James, haven’t you?” I asked, appalled.
My father lifted his head and looked me dead in the eyes. “Did you really believe I wouldn’t? Don’t go thinking I’m playing father and trying to make sure you two are keeping it above board. I’m no idiot. I’ve got no right telling my girl who she can date. But I can’t pass up the opportunity to search those letters for anything that can help the cause.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, shaking my head. “Is that why you said I could write him? So you could have a chosen one on the inside?”
“I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t part of the reason. He can see and hear things my men can’t. But it wasn’t the entire reason I let you write to him and him to you. I could see what he meant to you. I’m not completely heartless.” He took a step closer to me.
“Then why hasn’t he gotten any of my letters? I know you’ve been going through them, crossing out anything you think can lead them back here.”
My father reached forward and placed a hand on my shoulder. When I tried to shake it off, he gripped onto it. “I never kept anything he said from you. But I can’t let you write to him anymore. It’s too dangerous. It’s clear from his letters that they already know too much about you. I’m sorry, Tessie.”
I clenched my jaw and looked away. It made sense, and James would want to keep me safe. But it wasn’t fair, and I didn’t know how to deal with all the unfairness anymore. Hating the world didn’t end it. Loving didn’t end it, either.
“Why even let me have his letters? Just for your damn intel?” I charged.
“We all need something to hold onto,” he explained quietly. “Despite what you think, I’m not a total monster.” When I didn’t reply, he sighed. “What I told you a few weeks ago was true. Everything I have done and everything I am planning, I do for you and your sisters. Sister,” he amended. “I’m going to fix this world.”
“You? You’re going to fix it?” I asked. “How do you plan on doing that?”
“It’s better if you don’t know all the details. In fact, you’re safer if you don’t. But when this is done and—”
I held up my hand to stop him. “I don’t want to hear it. It’s better for me if I don’t hear all the details? I’ve been told that line before, and let me just say, I’m never better off. Besides, you don’t get to make those decisions for me anymore. I can fight, you know. If that’s your big plan. I know how to shoot a gun.”
I wanted to fight. If loving and hating didn’t make the pain go away, maybe fighting would.
“Fighting is more than knowing how to shoot a gun. If you had a halfway decent teacher, you’d know that.”
“I had a great teacher,” I said. “You’d agree if you got to know Eric.”
With a growl, my father grabbed onto my elbow, yanking me along with him. He moved so fast through the community that I could barely keep up. He didn’t stop till we reached one of the barns that lay outside of the borders. Five of his men stood guard around the fenced-in area where we kept a few horses. Only there weren’t horses in the pen any longer.
Inside stood a deformed chosen one. Well, not so much stood as crawled. His legs had been chopped off at the knees. Despite a steady flow of blood that streamed down onto the ground, the beast thrashed against the dirt floor, hissing and foaming at the mouth. Before I could speak, my father lifted me up and threw me into the pen.
“What the hell are you doing?” I screamed, scrambling to my feet. At the sound of my voice, the monster stopped moving, lifting his torso high off the ground with his arms. He dropped his head back as his nostrils flared, taking in my scent. I stumbled to the fence post and turned to climb out when my father pulled a gun from his holster and held it at my head. On cue, every gun in the vicinity was trained on me.
“So, you’re ready to fight?” my father yelled, his face turning red. “What happens when they take that gun away from you? They’ll definitely try. In fact, once they do, you’re pretty much done for. A gun is a weapon; it’s not any sort of safety guarantee. That weapon up there is just as important as any gun.” He pointed at my forehead.