Chapter 40 · "I'm not." "You knew enough. You knew I

"I'm not."

"You knew enough. You knew I was a child. You knew Olympus made me shoot someone I loved, and you still put a weapon in my hand every time you needed me to open a door."

"I never put a weapon in your hand."

"You pointed me at Olympus and called it a choice."

"Because it was your choice."

"You don't get to say that!"

I tore one hand loose and struck his chest. Once. Twice. The third hit never landed. He caught my fist and stepped into me, blocking the wind, the rain, and the open space behind us.

"Say it," he said.

"Move."

"Say what you really want to say."

"I want you to stop looking at me like I'm salvageable."

His thumb dragged across my knuckles, wiping away a thin line of blood. His eyes stayed on my face.

"You're not a machine," he said.

"I am exactly what they built."

"Then why are you still fighting me?"

"Because I hate you."

"That's not it."

"Because you lied."

"Still not it."

"Because every time you touch me, I remember what it felt like when someone wasn't trying to control me.