6. Xander
CHAPTER 6
Xander
O bsession is a wild emotion because you can’t rein it in no matter what you do. Obsession has ruined empires, created religions, and fueled massacres. My first experience with the affliction was when I discovered dark truths about my lineage. My second experience was gifted to me by the two people standing before me.
I should’ve hated everything about them—they ruined my mother—but I can’t bring myself to. Besides, the sins of the father—or mother—aren’t inherited. Unlike The Covenant, I don’t believe in the generational bullshit that creates a caste system. A system that holds people down and removes all hope. Even if the system was beneficial to Hans, it sure as fuck wasn’t for Margarete. She turned my need for retribution into a fight for salvation.
Margarete has no clue about the sinister plans for her existence. She was an innocent child born into and caged in a precarious situation. I watched over her, witnessing her transformation into a woman with a sweet disposition and a free spirit.
I watched through windows and the shadows of trees as her melancholy grew daily and her hope vanished hourly. I could never describe the sorrow lodged in my heart at the sadness of her predicament.
At first, I used Hans to get closer to her, to unearth information about The Covenant. But then he also buried himself in corners of my heart I thought were long deceased.
“You know each other?” Johannes asks, interrupting our reunion and my revelry.
Maggie drags her gaze from me to look at him. “I wouldn’t say we know each other. More like we met once upon a time.”
An odd pain tightens my chest at her words. “She doesn’t know me,” I whisper, “but I know her.”
I glance from her pretty face to Johannes' handsome one. They would’ve made a beautiful couple if The Covenant had allowed them to choose each other. And I would’ve stayed away, believing her to be in good hands. Unlike the many men in their community, Hans has always exhibited his love for her. Observing them, I know Hans would place her and their offspring above the church and its demands. I think that’s my biggest issue with religion as a whole: how the members sacrifice their children for fairytales and promises. I could never give up my child for the wants of perverted old men.
I stood in the shadows, shrouded by the tree's twisted branches. They couldn’t see me, but I had a perfect view of them.
Over the years, I’d watched Maggie’s relationship with Hans blossom. From mischievous children to determined pre-teens to young lovers.
Since Maggie turned eighteen a few months ago, they’d taken their relationship to new heights. I shut my eyes, going through the regular ritual of convincing myself that my stalking wasn’t perverse. I’d never crossed the line, nor had my feelings ever delved into perverted fantasy. I’d never wanted to be anything other than a protector. But during the last two weeks, I’d regarded them differently.
My gaze moved to Hans’ face, knowing that his lust-filled eyes mirrored mine. Did this make me an animal? I’d watched over this woman since she was a child, yet there I was, my body revealing the evidence of my carnal desire.
“Hans, we can’t go too far. They’ll expect me to bleed on my wedding night.” Maggie’s words were laced with passion, desire, and fear.
My eyes shot open, and I was instantly prepared to fight. From what I’d learned, Hans was nothing like the others in The Covenant. He was a good man, respectful to women and kind to children. But he was still bound to a patriarchal system of religious indoctrination. Men raised to reign supreme in a tyranny didn’t care about the feelings of those they deemed subordinates if it meant they had to temper their desire.
My hands formed fists as I moved toward them, resolved to protect Maggie by whatever means necessary.
Hans’ words halted me. “I’ll never do anything to put you in harm’s way, Margarete. And I’ll die before I allow anyone to hurt you. The only comfort I need is to hold and be held by you because I’m certain the only paradise I’ll ever experience in this life and the next is in your embrace.”
My shoulders relaxed and I filled my lungs with a deep breath. My instincts were good. I needed to trust them. Hans wouldn’t hurt her.
“What if I want more? What if I want my first touch from a man to be filled with love? Does that make me wanton, Hans? Am I sinful to long for more than I was created for?”
My heart ached at the sorrow in her voice and the cruelty of the world forced upon her. It took every ounce of control I could muster not to run to her. To tell her the possibilities were endless for her. I wanted to demand she leave with me so I could show her she didn’t need to abide by the rules of an unjust prison lacking the vision to see the magnitude of her essence. At that moment, I wanted to fall to my knees and beg her to save herself. Beg her to allow me to set her free. But emancipation could not be forced upon the unwilling. Indoctrination ran deep, and even when society worked against those bound to it, there were those who ignored the evidence to cling to a shred of improbable hope.
“What we do or don’t do will always be up to you, Maggie.” Hans lifted his face to the skies before looking at Margarete again. “I wish I could give you more. I don’t want to bring you into the shadows to confess my feelings. I don’t want to go home knowing our time is slowly ticking away. Three years. That’s all that remains for us. I loathe knowing that I will have to watch you marry another.” He grabbed her hands, raising them to his mouth and kissing her knuckles. “Some days, I don’t think I’ll make it. It’s like dying a slow death.”
“Hans,” Maggie whispered, pulling her hands from his and cupping his face. “As long as I breathe, I will love you.”
I glanced away, not wanting to be privy to their tender moment. Not because I felt like an interloper but because I wished she’d utter those words to me. Logically, I knew my desires were convoluted and irrational, but I couldn’t help it. Watching Maggie grow into a beautiful young woman with compassion and kindness had softened the darkest parts of me. Parts that would never belong to anyone but her.
Johannes puffs up his chest and stands in front of Margarete as if trying to shield her from my view.
I’d usually find his chivalry endearing, but it only ignites my ire. “You behaving like a Doberman is cute, especially when we both know you’re nothing more than a scared pup.”
Johannes grits his teeth. “How long have you been watching her?”
Laughter bursts from me as I step toward him, stopping when my chest is flush with his. He flinches but holds his position. I don’t know if he’s standing his ground because of his attraction to me or his need to protect Maggie. Perhaps it’s a bit of both. “Are you jealous because of her or me?”
I know my words are callous. Cruel even. I’m hinting at a secret I have no right to reveal and holding it over Hans’ head. I see the shock in his eyes when they shoot to mine and immediately regret the words summoned by my insecurity and anger.
“What are you talking about?” Margarete asks.
“Nothing,” I say quickly.
Hans closes his eyes and exhales sharply. “It’s not nothing.” He turns to Margarete. “I’ve followed God’s rules and allowed them to control me my whole life.”
Maggie steps in front of Johannes, clasping his hands. “God doesn’t control us. We submit to his rule. He is the one and only creator.”
Her words irritate me—more verbal diarrhea to curb free thinking. Rationally, I know she isn’t to blame for her beliefs. No one is. Thinking outside the box is hard when you’ve lived in an echo chamber repeatedly churning out the same thought processes. Kid gloves are a more productive approach in situations like this, but my emotions get the better of my reason, and my words rush out like a riptide.
“One and only creator, you say. Do you have any idea how many gods exist throughout history? Do you have any notion that the stories you believe to be gospel are copy-paste regurgitation of past tales? Who is to say which version of God is real? The truth is that humans have reconstructed the image of a higher power since the dawn of civilization. There is no such thing as the one and only creator.”
Margarete pierces me with her green eyes. “There is only one true God.”
“Yes, yes, the God of Abraham, a God who birthed three religions. Three groups that couldn’t even agree on the ideals of the Almighty. So these three distinct religions splintered, creating new twigs on the tree. One of those twigs is the little cult you cling to so vehemently.” I wave my hand in the air, already bored with the pending conversation. “I know what they fed you, and unfortunately, your spiritual meal makes me deadly ill.”
Maggie steps back as if I’ve struck her, and I instantly feel like trash.
I move away, walking to the truck. “We gotta go before the search party grows bigger.”
“We aren’t going anywhere with you,” Maggie spits.
I roll my eyes, exasperated. “Neither of you has a phone. No refuge. And I’m confident you lack the funds to last longer than a week. Let’s be clear. If I wanted to hurt either of you, I’ve had ample opportunities over the last fourteen years.” I flick my eyes to Hans. “You might not trust me, Maggie, but I hope you trust Hans. He’ll vouch for me.”
I don’t wait for Hans and Maggie to reply. Opening the cab, I load the truck. I’ve given Margarete the illusion of choice, but I’ll take Hans down, gag her, and put her in the truck if I have to. The idea of using force is repugnant, but there’s no way I’m sending her back there.
Relief washes over me when I hear footsteps behind me.
“Hans,” Maggie pleads. “What about all the warnings about being outside? How do we know he won’t do worse?”
Hans clears his throat. “Because I know him.”