Chapter 137: Taran

"I'm done with whatever this is," I tell him as he gets in the car. "Take me to Emery and Blaze."
He turns to look at me, not bothering to mask the glowing embers of his rage. Perhaps I could've used more diplomacy and less of a demanding tone. Sometimes I forget my husband is the Warlord; ruler of cities, destroyer of Primitives and kidnapper of wives.
He leans toward me, his arm sliding along the back of my seat. I cringe against the passenger side door, but he's such a big man he's still able to get right in my face. "You will see our child when I say you can. I'm not done with you yet."
The ominous words linger in the air between us. He doesn't say anything else, just stares at me, his gaze holding mine captive, his fingers tangling in my hair. I hold my breath and then release it in a long sigh. No matter how scary he is, I know Diogo won't hurt me. It's just not in him. I grope for patience of my own, reminding myself that he won't keep me from Blaze long. He loves our son, same as me. He won't allow our child to go without the comfort of his mother, and the sustenance only I can provide.
"Alright," I say softly, trying for a more conciliatory tone. "Where to next?"
"Home," he says shortly and turns to face forward, starting the vehicle.
Well that works for me, the closer we are to home the more likely I am to get back to my son and the routine I've spent weeks establishing. As Diogo wends his way through the city streets toward our new home I look around with a new focus. Blaze was born so soon after the violence of the rebel riots that I haven't had much opportunity to see the city rebuild. Sections have been burnt out, torn down, or abandoned. The buildings are silent sentinels to the unrest our Sanctuary has experienced. But out of the ashes there are signs of regrowth.
Many of the elites that were caught up in the rebellion have moved to different sectors, integrating with some of the poorer sections. Milla has moved in with Emery in the slums. As well as helping with incoming refugees, she's thrown herself into creating education programs and schools. While she's still bitterly disappointed over the death of her beloved husband, she's making herself useful to people who desperately need the resources she can offer.
A sliver of guilt slides through me. I used to be the Desert Wren, I used to stand for something. I helped the people of Sanctuary in the best way I knew how. Yet when Diogo took me, my life changed entirely. Instead of working for the greater good I became the wife of the Warlord. More of a symbolic figurehead than someone who can actually effect change. When Blaze was born I was able to focus entirely on him, bury my discomfort over being locked away for my own safety.
And just like that an epiphany hits me. I'm not angry at Diogo for killing Xavier. Okay, well I am angry about that, but I'm more angry over his unilateral decision-making. Yes, he is the Warlord. Yes, he is the man that makes the decisions. But he's also a man that professes to love me. Yet that love can be suffocating. It's barbaric and unhealthy. Diogo locks me up every chance he gets, he forced me into marriage, he forced me into a relationship I wouldn't have chosen for myself. And yes, while I have fallen in love with my husband, I am still the same Desert Wren I used to be. And she wouldn't have stood for the autocratic way in which the Authority has taken my autonomy.
Maybe I thought love would change Diogo, as I'd once thought it would change Xavier. Maybe I should have known better. People can fall in love, but they don't change. I'm almost as guilty for Xavier's death as Diogo. Though it was a chain of events I couldn't have predicted, my involvement with Xavier is what drove Diogo to kill him the way he had. I'm not naive enough to think I'm responsible for all of it, I can't control the actions of others, but I can control my own actions, and some of them led to Xavier's death.
That's it, maybe I feel responsible for what happened to Xavier. It was out of my control, but it was still my fault.
My feelings are such a riotous mess and I'm so deeply lost in my own thoughts that I barely notice when we arrive at our building. I snap out of it when Diogo's door slams. He opens mine and holds a hand out to me. I take it and allow him to pull me from the vehicle. We walk into the building together, his hand at my back. I wonder what else he has in store for me. I'm mentally and physically exhausted now from visiting two places that hold traumatic memories. I want to lay down and take a nap and I want to do it with my infant son.
We make it about halfway up the stairs before Diogo, apparently eager to get to our apartment, picks me up and carries me the rest of the way. I don't complain. In fact, the movement is comforting. He's done this for me so many times over the past year. Seen to my comfort and well-being. In a way, he is the perfect husband. But I'm beginning to realize that so many of the things he does for me are equally for him. He will see to my needs, protect me and keep me in comfort because knowing I'm safe gives him peace of mind.
If this how love is supposed to look? I'd always imagined when it happened it would be more of a partnership. An equal, or at least variable distribution of decision-making and power exchange. Instead, I'm living in a marriage that, while loving, is not equal. If my decisions are counter to Diogo's he will enforce his will on mine.
Instead of angry, these thoughts make me feel weary. I don't know how to make him see what he's doing to me. To us. To our small family. And I don't know how to counter him. How to express my needs without getting frustrated and angry. Perhaps if my parents or grandparents had survived, I would've grown into womanhood with more of a sense of who I am and what I need. With the ability to talk to my husband without my emotions getting in the way. While Emery did her best with me, we met each other while I was already deep in the rebellion, set on my course, and too stubborn to accept her gentle guidance. Now I'm keenly aware of my lack of family.
He sets me on my feet and opens our door for me to enter. I glance around. "Where's Grayson?"
"Why?" Diogo demands with a frown.
I look at him with exasperation. His constant jealously can be so overwhelming sometimes. I can't even speak the name of another man without him getting in my face. "I'm wondering because he's been my constant shadow since you made him my bodyguard. It seems weird to not have him around."
Diogo's frown remains. "He's with Emery and Blaze. I assigned him baby duty while we went on our tour. Perhaps I should rethink his permanent assignment, you sound as though you're getting attached."
Annoyance turns to anger. "Of course, I'm attached to him. He's my bodyguard and we've been through hell together on more than one occasion. Are you seriously considering taking another friend from me? Why? Because he's male, good-looking and good at his job? Well that makes perfect sense."
"Taran," he says warningly.
"No," I snarl, turning on him. "I've had enough of your insane jealousy and stupid rules. If you reassign Grayson I'll start following him around. I'll... I'll become his bodyguard, just to spite you. And because I don't want to lose another friend."
Okay, my argument is a little on the childish side, but damn it, I'm exhausted and tired of losing the people I care about. I know they aren't all Diogo's fault, but he moves us around like pieces on a chessboard until he's satisfied with the configuration. If his motivations were pure, his reasoning sound then maybe I could get on board with his autocratic declarations. But he's motivated by jealousy, which is not a good enough reason.
"You need to watch what you say, Taran," Diogo warns again.
I grit my teeth, telling myself to think before I speak. And then I speak without thinking, letting some of my anger loose in the form of some of the half-coherent thoughts I've been having. "Why should I watch what I say?" I shout, flinging my arms in the air. "You don't watch what you say. You say what you think and there's no Authority higher than you to tell you to watch your tongue. Well, now it's time for you to think before you speak, because if you keep letting emotions like jealousy rule your marriage you won't have a marriage for very much longer."