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Outcast

Page 12

   


“Jared Adams doesn’t deserve to die.” I keep my voice expressionless out of habit, but I look Dad in the face, daring him to argue.
His voice is lethal. “You think you’re in charge now? You think you’ve got a better method of running things than I do?”
“Samuel.” Elder Toilspun puts a withered hand on Dad’s arm.
Dad shakes him off without once looking away from me.
“Quinn said the trespassing was unintentional,” Elder Toilspun says. “And this man is wanted by Rowansmark. The council must meet to decide what should be done.”
“I decide what is to be done with trespassers—”
“Are you above the council?” There’s flint in Elder Toilspun’s voice now, and it seems to get through to my father. “Let’s take the prisoner inside and get to the bottom of this.”
“Do you need help?” Jared asks me quietly as the elders motion for Matthias and Sorra, two regular scouts, to bring Jared to the jail cell and stand guard. I follow Jared’s gaze to my father’s face and feel an unfamiliar sense of gratitude swamp me. The elders, confronted with Dad’s disregard for their authority, are doing nothing but running away from him. A quick glance around shows that the rest of the villagers are following suit. Only Jared Adams, a man I barely know, is willing to stand beside me to protect me from my father’s wrath.
“I’ll be okay.” It’s a lie. I needed to push Dad into becoming truly violent in front of the council. Nothing less would force them to act against him. I failed, and now I have no idea how to break my father’s authority over Willow and me.
Dad watches in furious silence while the elders take Jared inside the council house. As soon as the council door closes, Dad lunges forward and drives his fist into my stomach. I double over, and he wraps an arm around my back and leans down until his face is next to mine.
“That’s just a taste of what’s coming for you. You know better than to defy my orders. To lay your hands on me. You’ve made us a laughingstock.”
My stomach aches, and my lungs refuse to drag enough air into my chest, but still I find the strength to wheeze, “He doesn’t deserve to die. Especially at your hands.”
The arm across my back becomes a vise, and I barely have time to blink before Dad’s fist slams into my face. My instinct is to absorb the blow, keep my eyes down, and act as though submitting to his will is my only priority.
But another instinct, a combination of the skill that helps me win every fight and my newfound desperate bid for freedom, begs me to pivot and take him out at the knees. Crush his larynx as he lands so he can no longer spew his hatred. Break his arms so he can no longer hurt another person.
Something hot boils through my chest, and I clench my fists and drive them into him with all the speed and force I possess. I stare in shock as he stumbles briefly and then rights himself, his face flushed with anger.
I can’t believe I’ve hit my father twice in the last hour.
I want to do it again. The need to finish what I’ve started is a physical ache pounding through me, but I hold myself back. Not giving in to the violence inside of me is the thin thread that separates me from becoming just like him.
“Think you can take me, boy?” he asks, a dark promise in his voice.
I meet his gaze. “We both know I can.”
“Let’s see you prove it.”
The walkway is nearly empty now as people, terrified to be so close to my father when he’s this angry, have fled into the surrounding buildings. I wipe blood from a cut on my cheek and realize that maybe I don’t need the council’s help. Maybe all it takes is finding the courage to speak my own truth and stand by it. “I’m done proving things to you.”
“Is that a fact?” His voice grows ugly with the kind of viciousness he only aims at those he plans to kill.
I straighten my shoulders and look him in the eye. “Yes. I’m finished doing the wrong thing because I’m too afraid of you to say no. Jared Adams is a good man. He doesn’t deserve to die, and I’m going to make sure he lives. If you want to kill him, you’re going to have to go through me to do it.”
Dad smiles, long and slow. “You’re going to be begging to take back those words before this night is over, boy.” He glances at the council house, where Elder Saintcrow watches us from a window and then turns on his heel and walks away.
I stay at the council building, just outside the door, for hours. Waiting. Someone brings food for the elders. Someone else brings water. Voices drift out of the building, but I can’t make out the words. The sky is a deep, dark blue lit by the scattered stars and the moon that shines directly overhead.
I haven’t seen Willow. I hope she isn’t paying for my choices. I haven’t seen Dad, either, but I will. He’ll be coming for Jared, and for me.
I’m going to stop him.
Pulling my jacket close to ward off the frigid night air, I consider my options. I can incapacitate him briefly and give me time to get Willow and Jared out of the village, but I don’t know if Willow wants to leave, and if the council isn’t finished with Jared, that won’t work. I can get the elders’ attention and hope they make the decision to put Dad in jail instead of Jared.
Or I can kill him.
He deserves it. I know he does. But so do I. I’ve done terrible things in the name of obeying my father. I told myself it was my duty. That I had no choice.
Now I realize that I’ve had a choice for a while. Ever since I was strong enough to overcome Dad in a fight. I can’t change the past, but I can take control of my future.