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Authors: Arden Aoide

BOOK: Covet Not
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He
held up the cream-colored envelope that he had found under his feet when he
stepped out the door that morning.

 

Jared
Agnesson

 

He
knew what was inside. His father had been threatening it before Anna's body had
been cold to keep Jared under control. His father wanted him to take over the
farm, but Jared had a knack for computers. So, he had sought work in the city,
independent of his father, but every job or apprenticeship ended up dead.

Luckily,
Jared had the foresight to move his trust fund when he turned eighteen to an
international bank in the city, one who hadn't heard of James Agnesson, or if
they had, they hadn't cared. Jared would have enough money indefinitely if he
wasn't foolish. And his current project was lucrative, but he had to be doubly
careful.

He
inherited a piece of land adjacent to his father's ranch with the bones of a
hunting lodge hidden by the trees. His father spent equal time at the ranch and
in the city, but Jared knew Agnes Oaks inside out, so he felt he could hide
more effectively in plain sight rather than a city where he would be constantly
looking over his shoulder. He'd underestimated his father. The only way to be
truly free of him was death, or to find a way to leave Texas, but Texas only granted
visas for work. They were temporary, not for families, and never for women.

If
you were born here, you died here, and the fate of the women depended on the
kindness of their husbands.

Jared
wanted to be kind. It took him several months, but he'd built paradise, and
he'd wondered if his future bride would like it. But, he didn't allow himself
to wonder for long. He enjoyed deluding himself on occasion. It was safe out in
the woods.

As
much as he'd wanted Shula Kelley, as much as he'd always known that she was
intended for him, he knew that his father would eventually take her from him.
The same way he took Anna, and she had only been his friend from church. His
father hated their closeness, never trusted it, and he'd left her because his
father had become increasingly nasty towards her.

A
week later, he'd found out that she'd died. Jared had to think.

His
reach was far and wide, and Jared had to be smart. But, now it seemed too late.

His
brothers were too complacent and stayed away, moving their families to the city
to represent various family businesses. Their father's fingers were dipped into
trade all over the state of Texas, from banking and real estate, to agriculture
and energy. Education and evangelism. Jacob and Jonah managed the bank branches
from the Austin-San Antonio Metroplex, to one hundred miles east of Agnes Oaks,
with smaller branches all over the state, independently managed. Josiah was in
real estate, and was rather successful at it.

They
had already moved out when Anna came to live with them. Only Jude had remained.
He was the one who had found Anna, and avoided everyone anymore. Jared was
fairly sure that Jude will be the one running the farm. So long as his father
didn't find out–

His
father had eyes and ears everywhere, was highly respected, but there was a
quiet cruelty in his every step that made people cautious around him. He
believed it was power, and maybe it was, but Jared had no need for that sort of
sway.

He
wanted better. He wanted a life without fear for the people around him.

So,
he would go. He would dress in his Sunday's best, and try to meet Shula's eyes,
and hope that he could relay in that glance that he would do anything in his
power to save her from him.

She
would have to be patient and he would have to be strong.

 

 

II

 

 

James Agnesson
didn't believe in God, but he loved to wield the Gospel. He strongly believed
that in order to have a peaceful and obedient people, they needed to have
purpose, have
Truth
, but most of all, they needed a reward. What better
reward than the promise of Heaven and Everlasting Life? Even if it was complete
and utter nonsense, it served as the opiate it was meant to, with James
dispensing whatever Good News to keep his pulpit on their knees.

James
knew to seek his own reward, the sooner the better, because there was only now.
And it was easy, because people were stupid.

“Yes,
that's correct. The Peterson girl belongs to me. I spent far too much, but
there's not another like her for thousands of miles. It will be difficult, but
you will probably have to cross over to get another like her.” James Agnesson
adjusted his tie as he held the phone between his ear and shoulder. “I'll send
the documents. The guard in Texarkana won't question anything. If you can find
a male, sure. Check the poor families, too.”

Texas
desperately needed fresh blood. It was becoming increasingly difficult to tell
the difference between the Whites and the Mexican-Americans who never left.
Sure, they were technically citizens, but as the Whites grew less discernible,
their history would not be met with a sense of pride. It would be forgotten.
“Let me know what you find.” He straightened his head and pressed 'end' on his
phone.

It
wasn't ideal, venturing into the Communist cesspool of the States, but needs
must. If only those who had insisted violently on secession had retained the
foresight to preserve their heritage. They were fearful of smoke, of being
impotent in society, and they thought an armory was the only thing that needed
protection. Idol worship, indeed.

James
thought it ridiculous. In a nation that glorified violent entertainment, and
still did, it seemed ignorant that an ineffective government would come take
their guns. They could barely take a census. And it was James' opinion that
cataloging the people was much more important.

They
were taking their heritage instead, and not in a sinister sort of way, but with
the ignorant belief that separate cultures should be obsolete. It amused James
endlessly that the late United States wanted to recognize how the other races
were just as important, while at the same time embracing interracial
relationships and allowing just anyone to breed with the Whites. Ridiculous.
Why bother having days and even months dedicated to other cultures when the
plan was to dilute their bloodlines.

He
didn't have an issue with different races, so long as they kept to themselves.

Oh,
they had meant well, but they were stupid, though not as stupid as those early
secessionists.

Of
course, he was thankful that they were sovereign. He just wished they cared
more about their own people than mass producing more weapons than the world had
ever seen. Guns that sat unused in a silo underground outside the oil pit of
Houston. Guns that were better off forgotten because it made their forefathers
seem even more foolish than they originally were. Texas wasn't founded on the
blood and brains of great men as it once had been, but James would spend his
whole life trying to remedy past mistakes. The first thing on the agenda was to
populate their great country, and not with a watered down amalgam of modern
races.

James
was something of a historian and religious scholar. He'd studied the rise and
fall of civilizations since ancient times. When the United States split
two-hundred fifty years earlier, in the year 2030, it was probably the most
peaceful separation in all of recorded history, though there was expected
rioting, and an embarrassing amount of posturing.

Texas
was simply let go, and all federal funds with it after a dozen years or so. For
those impoverished in Texas, the States sent out vouchers, and it was their
choice to leave, and many were fearful of the lack of government assistance in
Texas. The prospect of true Freedom was terrifying, and so unknown. It sounded
idyllic, but even with an infrastructure in place, Texas would be starting from
scratch, writing their own constitution. It would be the Promised Land for
some, and Hell to others, so many people left. To stay with the States, one
only had to move there.

For
some though, the ones who envisioned Utopia, Texas allowed in. The only
requirements were to renounce any and all citizenship anywhere else, and that
you believed that Jesus Christ was your savior and that he died for your sins.

Separation
of Church and State was left out of their own Bill of Rights. The transition
was met with some resistance, but Texas took a hard line: You can keep your
guns, or you can leave for the States. It was a scare tactic that worked. Guns
were chosen. It took another fifty years for women to be put back in their
rightful place. Once they stopped questioning, borders were closed to further
immigration and emigration. Work visas were carefully considered, though most
denied and women weren't allowed, negating anyone from leaving permanently. On
occasion, a single male's application would be approved because he worked for
an international bank or similar company, and he wouldn't return. But, it
didn't happen often. If you wanted to make Texas your home, then you had to
bring money and a marketable skill or business. For the first few decades,
there was a queue of businessmen, but that had decreased over the century.
Their wives, upon learning of the new Laws wouldn't step foot inside Texas, and
Texas didn't want them anyhow.

Texas
was a country in harmony. The rules laid out up front, blatant in their intent.
There weren't elections any longer, but a default committee of old money.
Infrastructural decisions were made by only the richest, for it was their money
that funded it since it was through their request, though the middle and lower
classes had recourse if they had a convincing enough request that someone
wanted to fund. There were no taxes, but all major highways were tolled.
Police, fire, and even teachers were volunteer only and exclusively localized.
Many taught at home, or co-opted a few families to take turns, so long as the
boys and girls were separated. The Education Cooperative was an idea that a few
local businessmen happily funded for their sons. Curriculum was heavily
monitored as was all fiction. Some banned long before. Music and film fell into
that category. Women were allowed to teach, nurse, and clean homes if they
hadn't any young children and their husbands allowed it. Most general
practitioners were inexpensively obtained and specialists were only found in
the big city.

The
Internet was heavily regulated as well. No social media. For those families
that could afford the exorbitant price of the Internet, their options were
determined by a modified search engine that relied on religious sites to keep
the peace, and pre-approved family friendly sites. It was important for
information to stay consistent. News of the rest of the world just wasn't
important to the wellbeing of the common population.

Of
course, if one was wealthy, they had more access to things. They earned a good
deal of their money invested in markets abroad, so it was imperative to watch
fluctuations and act on them as needed. Full Internet was only given to those
who were devoted to Texas, and had the money to prove it.

As
James had. It had been like feeling the pulse of absolutely everything, and he
soaked up every bit of knowledge he could find. He watched charismatic speakers
and preachers, and could emulate them easily. He wasn't exactly ordained,
though he could take over the pulpit at a moment's notice if needed.

He
made sure that those speaking for the Lord knew exactly what was Good and
Proper and Fitting of the lifestyle he wanted emulated by the small population
he could control.

He
had given his oldest son Jacob full access. He had been married with his first
child on the way. James didn't see any purpose of allowing all the boys access,
especially Jared and Jude, as insolent as they were.

James
cared not one whit about patriotism. Sure, he loved Texas because that's where
he chose to live. In his very blood, there was a history of pillaging for
millennia. His people knew how to conquer wherever it was that needed
conquering. He was proud of his
people
. Where they ended up was
irrelevant.

Texas
was evolving again, and history was beginning to repeat itself. Not in a place
such as Agnes Oaks, not for some time still, but in the cities. The women were
demanding that they get an education. They were learning the intricacies of The
Bible. They were leaving home, breaking their betrothal contracts as soon as
they stepped foot in public without their fathers.

It
was a tragedy. And it probably wouldn't end there.

Women
were forgetting their place and their passive men were allowing it. The current
thriving economy would crumble if women decided they wanted to work. They would
leave their husbands and fornicate freely, naturally getting pregnant. And once
shame set in, they would kill their babies, and go crawling back to their
weak-minded husbands.

Women
needed to be controlled because when they were wild, empires fell.

James
would control his small town while he still lived and breathed, and he would do
anything to find those who would keep their DNA as pure as possible. When he
was dead, it would hardly matter to him, but he believed it would matter
greatly in the long run.

Shula
Kelley was meant to be fresh blood. Her father a blond, and Shula born bald as
an eagle, but grew white and wispy as she grew. James paid well for her. As she
reached puberty, her hair darkened considerably, and he had been disappointed,
but he hadn't added that particular clause to their contract. It was not a
mistake he would make twice.

When
he found Jude's soon-to-be bride, he made sure that stipulation was clear.
Clara Peterson appeared to be just as blonde as she had when she was a baby.

It
was his own fault that he had to be so diligent. He assumed his Scandinavian
DNA would dominate the genes of any woman he bred. He'd found a sweet docile
young thing, and she'd given him five dark-haired boys. They each had his
striking blue eyes, but their hair was so dark that the midnight sun in their
blood had set.

It
shamed him.

If
Shula Kelley had still been blonde, he would not be punishing Jared this way.
But, James found that it was the perfect way to put Jared in his place. It was
hard to find a bride at his age who wasn't already betrothed, so Jared would be
alone, or controlled by a city girl. That would be punishment enough.

His
impropriety with Anna had been expected, but it was his rebellious derision
that grew tiresome. His refusal to take on more responsibility at the farm was
the last of it, and James needed to teach Jared who was in charge.

And
Anna...Anna had been weak. She had been weak in a way that Grace had never
been. Grace stuck it out for those boys, and James took advantage of that. Anna
had no one when Jared left. Certainly not Jude. Jude was useless and always
would be.

He
would not impregnate Shula, though he regrets not being able to. In his shame,
he had gotten a vasectomy a few years after Jude. When he foolishly impregnated
a maid. The baby was female, dark as the dirt he covered her in.

His
boys hadn't been so fragile. Except for Jude. And if he had known that Grace
would die, he wouldn't have allowed Jude to live, either. Though the midwife
might have gossiped.

He
delivered his child on his own, already knowing its fate. He would allow a son
to live; they could be useful. But a daughter would be useless. He had no use
of a girl of indiscernible race.

He
gave the maid more money than she'd ever seen, a pittance, and sent her back to
El Paso.

El
Paso should have been given to the States at secession. It was as good as
Mexico.

Two
sons would have been plenty and he was still surprised that there was not a
blond among them. His curiosity for a child with Shula was overwhelming, but he
would try to ignore it.

Besides,
pregnancy makes one much more delicate than he had need for. He'd need someone
strong.

Shula
seemed just as sweet and docile as his Grace had been and he had spent years
molding her with his harsh palms and deliberate insults.

By
the time she was pregnant with Jude, she had been
perfect.
She could
look at his face and know exactly how to please him. Sometimes he would invent
transgressions just so he could feel her pulse quicken, then slow when he'd
wrapped his hands around her neck after he'd beat her.

He
loved that. Knowing that she had been an angel for him, and watching her
scramble to please him, pathetically so, was gorgeously arousing. Her confusion
and tears as he tightened his grip over and over, while he split her open with
his cock...the night before Jude had been born had been the last.

She
was uncommonly overdue and the midwife had said that intercourse might speed up
the process.

It
had.

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