Determinant: One choice will change everything

Chapter 28: Tobias - Wounds

Chapter 28: Tobias – Wounds

I'm too enraged to think straight. My feet pound back at forth at the end of the car as I pace like a caged animal. It seems appropriate, since I doubt I could do more than growl right now.

The space is confining, and I'm tempted to walk up and down the train instead, but I can't get myself to move that far away from Tris, not with Marcus still sitting in the same car. It's not a logical reaction – I know he won't try anything else right now, between the witnesses and how I would react – but I'm not exactly a picture of Erudite logic at the moment.

After a while, I step outside just far enough to hang from the side of the car, letting the cold wind whip at my face. It feels good, mirroring the anger churning inside me, but eventually frostbite starts to threaten, and I'm forced back inside where it's marginally warmer.

I try not to look at anyone. I certainly don't want to see my father, or the injuries he inflicted on Tris, and I have no desire to see the judgment or pity or whatever else I might find in the others' eyes. The only one who is likely to understand is Peter, but I'm afraid looking at him would just egg me on, and it was hard enough to stop myself from killing the monster who sired me as it was.

Eventually, Amar seems to decide that Marcus' presence in the car is too disruptive, because he takes my father outside, supporting him as he limps from the wounds I gave him. I don't know where they go, just that Amar returns with Uriah and Pari instead. It's a little easier to breathe after that, and gradually, other thoughts and feelings begin to creep back into my head, working their way through the anger.

The first one, as it usually is, is guilt. I picture my father's face in the truck, after he saw Tris help me through my fears and saw me squeeze her hand too hard, and I know it's no coincidence that he went after her hands today. It was his punishment for my weakness and a way of keeping me from seeking that comfort again. It was also proof that I can't protect her from him. I haven't lived with him in two years, but there's still no escape from his tyranny.

The second thought is even worse, because it shows me how deeply he hurt Tris. She didn't tell me what he did, couldn't even talk about it. Admittedly, I didn't give her much time to do that, but I know she wouldn't have said anything even if I had. She wore the same expression my mother always did, the same one I'm sure I did as we kept Marcus' secrets...because we blamed ourselves for them. That, more than anything, twists through my insides and guts me from within.

But it also propels my feet over to Tris. I still have too much energy to sit, and I'm not interested in conversing in front of the others, so I just crouch beside her, wanting to at least be near her.

"Are you ready to talk now?" she asks, her voice a little rough.

I'm not, but her tone tells me she needs me to be, and I won't say no to that.

"Yeah," I answer simply. I take her by the elbow, since I can't touch her hands without causing her pain, and help her to her feet. She winces at the movement, despite my best attempts to be gentle. It's another reminder of my failure, but I ignore it and lead her to the far corner of the car. It's not private, but I place myself between her and the others, presenting them with my back to shield us as much as possible. It's the best I can do without climbing to another car, and I won't make her do that with her injuries.

I don't know what to say, or what I expect her to say, but I'm definitely not prepared for the first words out of her mouth: "I'm sorry."

"You don't have anything to apologize for," I answer immediately, probably too harshly.

She bites her lip, refusing to look at me. "Yes, I do," she responds quietly, barely audible over the clacking of the train along the tracks. I shift closer, my face near hers to hear her better. "I should never have let Marcus come along," she adds. "I knew what he was like."