circumstances. Right now, he's
doing something that could get him killed. He can't be distracted
or disturbed."
Dad had used my full name, and he only ever
did that when he'd had his fill of me. His frustration told me that
his very long meeting with President Barone had not been a good one
and that President Barone— not
Dad —had sent Jayden on a mission, one Dad thought to be
too dangerous for our young Surrogate.
In the past, I'd overhead Dad venting to Mom
about the danger President Barone had always been too willing to
put Jayden in. There had been no doubt in my mind that if I'd stood
vigil near their bedroom door and eavesdropped on their
conversations that night or the next morning, I'd have learned that
Jayden being in danger was the source of Dad's anger and
frustration.
Embarrassed by what I'd done and hurt to
find out that Dad had been making Jayden entertain me, I jerked my
arms out of Dad's grip, turned away from him, and ran to my
room.
Dad had known something was wrong and
knocked on my door every few minutes for hours, asking to come in.
I'd refused. Instead, I'd crawled in my closet and waited for my
safe room door to open for the night.
The safe room had been something Gran had
built for me when I was a baby because he'd been convinced there'd
come a day when people would try to kidnap me, using me and the
technology embedded within my heart against him and Mom and
demanding information about their inventions or their research.
If only he hadn't been
right.
"Holy hell! Are you getting winded," Jayden
asked, once again snapping me back into the here and now.
"No. I'm not."
"You're slowing down, and you're getting
winded. Dammit! Your Dad swore to
me he'd make sure you kept training."
"I'm not winded, and I have been training.
You're just pissed because he doesn't push me until I'm ready to
throw up or taunt me until I'm angry. I should also mention that he
doesn't make Tawney and me compete for his approval. Dad is more
comfortable leading by example," I said more defensively than I
intended.
"I've seen your Dad, and he hasn't gotten
soft. In fact, he looks like he's in the best shape of his life.
You haven't been training with him."
"I'm training all the time. Most of my time
is spent with Dad. The rest is with Mom in the lab. Training is
training," I said without the first ounce of apology in my
tone.
I didn't feel like telling him that the only
difference between what Dad and I had been doing was while I worked
in the lab, Dad worked on the farm. Dad's manual farm labor was
more of a workout than anything Jayden could ever concoct for us to
do. I didn't tell him because I was sure he'd take that information
and use it against me by making me haul hay, shovel out stalls, and
hoe gardens.
This time, it was Jayden who came up short
and slowed, asking, "Don't… don't you think President Barone has
enough Enoche researchers, Carlie? Why are you working in the
lab?"
What he said took me off guard. I expected
him to be focused on the farm work. Instead, he was worried about
me working in the lab, something I loved doing.
I scoffed. "You've never worried about me
before. There's no reason for you to start now."
His next breath was exasperated. "I've
always worried about you. I'm the one who convinced your parents
that weekends spent in survival training was the best thing they
could do to prepare you for what's to come. I think that proves I
care about your family, about you, even if you don't believe
it."
"So… you finally admit it. You are the one that came up with that
torturous ritual."
He shrugged.
"It was all I could think of to do."
"At least now I know who to blame for my
aborted social life, massive split ends, and calloused hands," I
teased, and he smiled timidly.
"You didn't need a social life. You had me."
He winked.
Actually, I'd known for a long time that the
Surrogate Soldier through and through had been the one to convince
Mom, who'd been afraid for me, and Dad, who'd
doing something that could get him killed. He can't be distracted
or disturbed."
Dad had used my full name, and he only ever
did that when he'd had his fill of me. His frustration told me that
his very long meeting with President Barone had not been a good one
and that President Barone— not
Dad —had sent Jayden on a mission, one Dad thought to be
too dangerous for our young Surrogate.
In the past, I'd overhead Dad venting to Mom
about the danger President Barone had always been too willing to
put Jayden in. There had been no doubt in my mind that if I'd stood
vigil near their bedroom door and eavesdropped on their
conversations that night or the next morning, I'd have learned that
Jayden being in danger was the source of Dad's anger and
frustration.
Embarrassed by what I'd done and hurt to
find out that Dad had been making Jayden entertain me, I jerked my
arms out of Dad's grip, turned away from him, and ran to my
room.
Dad had known something was wrong and
knocked on my door every few minutes for hours, asking to come in.
I'd refused. Instead, I'd crawled in my closet and waited for my
safe room door to open for the night.
The safe room had been something Gran had
built for me when I was a baby because he'd been convinced there'd
come a day when people would try to kidnap me, using me and the
technology embedded within my heart against him and Mom and
demanding information about their inventions or their research.
If only he hadn't been
right.
"Holy hell! Are you getting winded," Jayden
asked, once again snapping me back into the here and now.
"No. I'm not."
"You're slowing down, and you're getting
winded. Dammit! Your Dad swore to
me he'd make sure you kept training."
"I'm not winded, and I have been training.
You're just pissed because he doesn't push me until I'm ready to
throw up or taunt me until I'm angry. I should also mention that he
doesn't make Tawney and me compete for his approval. Dad is more
comfortable leading by example," I said more defensively than I
intended.
"I've seen your Dad, and he hasn't gotten
soft. In fact, he looks like he's in the best shape of his life.
You haven't been training with him."
"I'm training all the time. Most of my time
is spent with Dad. The rest is with Mom in the lab. Training is
training," I said without the first ounce of apology in my
tone.
I didn't feel like telling him that the only
difference between what Dad and I had been doing was while I worked
in the lab, Dad worked on the farm. Dad's manual farm labor was
more of a workout than anything Jayden could ever concoct for us to
do. I didn't tell him because I was sure he'd take that information
and use it against me by making me haul hay, shovel out stalls, and
hoe gardens.
This time, it was Jayden who came up short
and slowed, asking, "Don't… don't you think President Barone has
enough Enoche researchers, Carlie? Why are you working in the
lab?"
What he said took me off guard. I expected
him to be focused on the farm work. Instead, he was worried about
me working in the lab, something I loved doing.
I scoffed. "You've never worried about me
before. There's no reason for you to start now."
His next breath was exasperated. "I've
always worried about you. I'm the one who convinced your parents
that weekends spent in survival training was the best thing they
could do to prepare you for what's to come. I think that proves I
care about your family, about you, even if you don't believe
it."
"So… you finally admit it. You are the one that came up with that
torturous ritual."
He shrugged.
"It was all I could think of to do."
"At least now I know who to blame for my
aborted social life, massive split ends, and calloused hands," I
teased, and he smiled timidly.
"You didn't need a social life. You had me."
He winked.
Actually, I'd known for a long time that the
Surrogate Soldier through and through had been the one to convince
Mom, who'd been afraid for me, and Dad, who'd
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