Final Debt Read online

  Friends.

  Allies.

  Kings in their feather-lined pockets.

  Was that how the crown became so rich? Were the jewels on their garments and diamonds on their scepters all thanks to the Hawks?

  I gasped, my mind running away with the new angle of thoughts.

  Every war. Every triumph and takeover of other countries—had they been possible and financed entirely by the Hawks?

  Cut interrupted my epiphany. “William returned to Africa and found yet more diamonds. His Black Diamond warriors increased in number, his mine and village became the most protected piece of dirt in Botswana, and he returned to England with far more than before.

  “The king once again welcomed him with open arms. He granted William a title, land, property—anything he wanted. He agreed to the terms that all Weavers—related to Sonya or not—were no longer favoured in court and banished them to Spain. He also approved the Debt Inheritance to be binding for future years.

  “By his third trip, the young Hawk boy had become an untouchable aristocrat. He’d grown in wealth and power and wore his self-worth like the expensive tailoring he commissioned. The fleet of ships given to him by the king grew until the crown jewels filled to bursting with diamonds of all shapes and sizes.”

  “What about the Debt Inheritance?” I tried to do quick arithmetic. “He would be nearing his thirtieth birthday—if not older. What about claiming Marion?”

  Cut’s forehead furrowed. “Don’t rush me, Ms. Weaver. I’m getting to that.” Jamming his hands in his pockets, he continued with his tale. “It was almost a decade before William found another black diamond that trumped even the one he’d given to the king, the one he’d named his entire brethren and brotherhood in honour of. This new one…this black monster found beneath the soil of the African plains, made the one the king owned pale in comparison. To this day, it sits carefully guarded in our safe at Diamond Alley.”

  Diamond Alley?

  My eyes flew to Jethro’s.

  Oh, my God. He’d shown me. He’d allowed me to hold the menacing stone that’d become the most treasured item in his family history.

  Jethro scowled, shaking his head slightly. Don’t mention it.

  I bit my lip. I won’t.

  “For years, the arrangement with the king prospered but then an aspiring courtier tried to kill William and take his trade routes and diamond mine for himself. The man ambushed the boats journeying home. His entourage robbed the crates of gems when they arrived at port. And they killed members of William’s Black Diamond brothers in order to weaken the wealthy Hawk importer.

  “William obviously didn’t put up with such behaviour and fought his enemies by becoming a smuggler.”

  I rolled my wrists, encouraging blood to flow into my fingertips. “How?”

  “The mines at Almasi Kipanga gave many ranges of diamonds. Some of low grade. Some of high. The lower grade, William mixed with quartz and other invaluable gemstones, pretending the shipment contained millions worth of invaluable cargo. He’d allow the hijacking and sacrifice the haul without losing anything of value.

  “The king was aware of the ruse and allowed him to create tales and fiction of robberies and bankruptcy. But what the thieves didn’t know was, William had found better ways to transport. He lost his reputation of respectful decorum and embraced a notoriety of strict and fearful.

  “His trusted warriors ensured his mystery increased, killing those who opposed him, creating a formidable empire no one could take down. Not even the king.”

  Cut stopped before me. “That wealth started our dynasty and the power that ensured we were above the Weavers, even though they’d been the court seamstresses and royal designers for decades. It was the same power that made the Weavers run like vermin, hiding in their new Spanish home, believing they were safe from any other claimant on the contract.”

  I frowned. “So William never made Marion pay the Debt Inheritance? He let her live?”

  Cut smiled. “There’s something you didn’t know about William. Something Jethro shares with his great-great—too many great ancestor.”

  I smiled, happy I’d seen within the lines of his story. “I think I know what that is.”

  Cut narrowed his eyes. “I suppose, after being so close to my son, that would make sense. For the purpose of full disclosure. What is it?”

  My arms ached to hold Jethro. My heart throbbed to be with him, away from this place. I held my lover’s eyes as I muttered, “He was an Empath, too.”

  “Exactly.” Cut nodded. “An unfortunate trait that runs in the family. It wasn’t diagnosed or even recognised as a condition. But records and voyage logs give hints into William’s emotional perception. His disease prevented him from hurting the one girl he was owed.”

  Cut moved toward me, his body heat defiling mine. My feet moved for every one of his, moving in a slow waltz around the room.

  “Because William was so weak emotionally, he felt the brunt of inflicted pain. He’d endured discomfort in his merchant world. He’d seen things, done things, and lived through things he couldn’t shake when having to deliver agony first-hand. Unfortunately, the thought of carrying out the same punishment, of whipping her for his grandfather and ducking her for his aunt, and raping her for his father—he knew he couldn’t do it.”

  Cut’s story achieved two things. One, it showed that although my ancestors had been conceited and cruel, Sonya had been compassionate and kind. And even though the Hawks were insane today; back then, they sounded upstanding and courageous.

  Cut’s voice cut through my musing. “Instead of taking her for his own, William let Marion marry and breed. He married himself and accepted the gift of land from the crown to build our home, Hawksridge Hall.”

  Cut stopped moving; I stopped backing away.

  His white hair flickered with the electric lamps around the room. His voice turned raspy from delivering such a long tale. “Unfortunately for William, his firstborn, Jack Hawk, was nothing like his father. Jack willingly accepted the Debt Inheritance when he came of age.”

  I finally understood why, through so many generations, only a select few inheritances had been claimed. There would’ve been more Hawks like Jethro—especially if it was a common trait. And my family didn’t take the threat seriously because the claiming wasn’t strictly enforced.

  Cut didn’t speak again for a minute, letting history fade around us, allowing ghosts to settle back into their coffins.

  Taking a deep breath, he finished, “So you see, Nila. We had our own hardships. We knew what it was like to rise from the gutter. And the Weavers couldn’t stop us.”

  I squirmed in my ropes, hating he’d come to an end—knowing it meant only one thing. I’d enjoyed the lesson, but I wanted to run from whatever debt he would make me repay. “But you have so much. Why bother hurting others when you no longer need to?”

  Cut scowled. “Why do politicians lie? Why do the richest families in the world create war? Why do those who have the power to fix global poverty choose to exploit and murder instead?” His fingers kissed my cheek. “Nila, the world is black beneath the skirts of society. We aren’t any different from others.”

  “That’s not true. I don’t believe that.”

  “Don’t believe what?”

  “That other men do this. Hurt others.”

  Cut laughed loudly. “Don’t you pay attention to the news? Do you not see between the lines of what a corrupted, blackmailed globe we live in?”

  I looked away.

  Jethro continued to wriggle. Nervous sweat beaded on his forehead while wildness glowed in his eyes.

  We both understood time had run out. Cut was ready for the next part of this sick and twisted game.

  “I do agree some families control every earthly asset.” I stood tall and defiant. “I agree death to them is as simple as a signature or a whispered word. What I don’t agree with is why. Why do you have to do this?”

  Cut marched quickly and gathered
me close in his arms. “Because I can, Nila. That’s all.” Letting me go, he prowled to the table where items I didn’t want to look at rested. “Now, enough history. I’ve rambled on long enough, and it’s starting to get boring. Let’s get to the exciting part, shall we?

  “Let’s pay the rest of the Fourth Debt.”

  GET YOUR FUCKING hands off her.

  Don’t touch her.

  Let her go.

  Leave her alone, goddammit!

  Every thought hurricaned around my head, blistering with outrage but not able to spill thanks to the rancid gag inside my mouth.

  I wanted to kill him. Motherfucking slice his godforsaken head off his shoulders.

  Every inch of me cried with agony—from the gunshot wound to the fever to the pounding headache and potentially cracked ribs from the car crash.

  Yet nothing hurt more than listening to Cut deliver the story of Mabel and William—the same tale I’d heard over and over again—and counted down the minutes of when it would be over.

  Nila paid attention, rapt beyond her will, absorbing my family’s history. To hear it for the first time would’ve answered so many of her questions but I had my own about William Hawk. Along with Owen, I felt most connected with him. I had documents of when William was inducted into the House of Lords while building Hawksridge. I had countless notes of his rise to wealth and the ledgers from his ships.

  He was the keystone to my family, just like Mabel. He’d managed to deliver our rightful happiness without spilling any more Weaver blood. I liked him. But I hated what’d happened after his time had passed.

  Nila struggled in Cut’s control. “I paid the Fourth Debt at the Hall.”

  Cut laughed. “You paid one element of it, that’s all. This is the main part and must be completed for the contract to be appeased.”

  Snatching her tied wrists, he stroked her tattooed fingertips. “You’ve only earned two tallies. You need two more marks before the Final Debt can be paid.”

  Nila snarled, “If you think you can etch your name into my skin, I won’t let you. Jethro’s initials are what I bear. Only he can tally me. Only he can claim me as per the Inheritance rules.”

  Cut let her go, tutting under his breath. “As you no doubt have figured out, Ms. Weaver, I’m not exactly playing by those rules any longer.”

  Another wash of crippling pain from my headache dulled their voices. My shoulders ached from flipping in the car and my sockets bellowed from being wrenched behind my back.

  They continued to argue as I grappled for coherency.

  I willed them to continue talking. Every extra stolen minute could help.

  Gritting my jaw, I struggled with renewed force. For the past half hour, I’d done everything I could to get free.

  My fingernails sawed at the rope; my tongue pushed on the gag. But Cut hadn’t tied me with half-measures. He’d tied and triple tied.

  All I achieved was more pain and tiredness. Despite my bitterness and hatred, I’d become helpless. All I could do was sit there like a fucking arsehole while my father tortured Nila with anticipation.

  The Fourth Debt.

  Originally, the debt ensured ultimate pain and a quick delivery to the Final Debt. Not many would’ve survived for long—especially a few centuries ago when anaesthetic and disinfectant weren’t used. The Fourth Debt was the last to be claimed and the most barbaric.

  Missing body parts.

  I shuddered, breathing hard through my nose. My innards crawled with what would happen, what Nila would endure, what I would witness.

  I have to find a way to stop it.

  Thankfully, Nila wouldn’t be subjected to Cut’s surgery skills. Not in this day and age. The debt had evolved a little since then. But it would still be painful. It would still be brutal and cruel.

  I twisted in the ropes, wishing for just a small loosening that I could use. But the twine only gathered tighter, rocking the chair legs against the floor as I writhed.

  Cut glanced at me, his eyes narrowing. “I’d save your strength, Jethro. You have a new task, remember?”

  I threw every inch of hate into my gaze. If only looks could kill. I would’ve ripped his motherfucking head off with one glance.

  “Your fate is no longer death.” Cut came toward me, calm and collected. He acted as if this was a business meeting discussing new terms of the estate. “Your destiny is to stay alive, missing her when she’s gone. Forever alone with memories of her death.”

  Nila swallowed a cry, her eyes darting to the exit. “That doesn’t have to be the case. He’s your son. I’m in love with him. Let us go and be a father rather than tormentor.” She could run, but her hands remained tied—without her fingers to open doors and arms to defend, she was as trapped as I was.

  Cut ducked to my eye level. He hid so much of himself but throughout my childhood, I’d seen parts of him in direct contradiction to the man before me now. Was there any goodness left inside, or was he nothing but a black shadow, a grim reaper of Weaver souls?

  Don’t hurt her!

  Don’t do this.

  He didn’t need words to understand what I begged. If the ropes didn’t lash me to the chair, I’d fall to my knees and plead. I’d give him anything—my life, my future—anything to save Nila from what he would do.

  With a smile, he patted me on the head. “Keep your eyes open. Nila agreed to do a certain something for me back at Hawksridge. It’s time to see if she’ll obey.” Leaning closer, he whispered so Nila wouldn’t hear. “If she does it, it will rip out your fucking heart but she’ll remain intact. If she doesn’t, she’ll be loyal to you but will pay the price with pain.”

  Taking a step back, he grinned. “Let’s see what she chooses, shall we?”

  I looked directly at Nila. How could I tell her to behave and do whatever Cut asked? How could I tell her to choose between two horrendous things?

  Her eyes widened, confusion settling on her face from my scattered questions.

  Trying to calm down, I did my best to silently share a message. Do what he asks.

  She flinched. Never.

  Please.

  Don’t ask me to do that.

  Her emotions waked around the space, tainting the walls and air. I couldn’t turn my condition off, and I wouldn’t survive feeling Nila’s agony.

  My muscles bunched as I struggled harder. I choked on saliva, sucking on the disgusting gag.

  Cut placed himself in front of Nila with his back facing me.

  I couldn't see.

  I can’t see.

  I strained to the side, seeking a better vantage, but I couldn’t see around Cut’s large frame.

  “Now, you’ve heard the history, so let’s focus on the present.” Cut’s voice echoed in the cave. “But first, you owe me from the dice throw in Hawksridge. I won’t tell you what you’ll avoid if you obey, but I will tell you if you don’t, worse pain than you’ve endured so far will be delivered.”

  His hand landed on her cheek, brushing aside glossy black hair. I hated his hands on her. I hated I couldn’t see Nila’s reaction or read her face. I hated, hated, hated he’d already stolen so much from her—her long hair, her happiness…her smile.

  She looked nothing like the young seamstress from the runway show nor any hint of the sexy, shy nun in her first text messages.

  Together, my father and I had stripped her of everything she’d been and created this new creature. A creature being led to the slaughter.

  No!

  I growled.

  Cut looked over his shoulder, rolling his eyes. “A growl? That’s all you have to say?” His gaze landed on the duct tape over my mouth. “Like I said, Jet. Save your energy. All you need to do is watch.”

  I’ll fucking watch.

  I’ll watch wolves tear apart your carcass.

  I’ll watch demons suck your soul into hell.

  My breathing crescendoed until my ribs creaked and my head swam.

  Nila trembled in place. Her emotions stuttered, fadin
g a little as she locked down internally. I’d felt it happen to many people. When stress overloaded the system, a human’s natural response was to go quiet. To focus. To numb. To delete every distraction.

  I’m here with you, Nila.

  I’m with you every step.

  Nila’s voice was a blade as she replied, “If I refuse, will you hurt Jethro?”

  “No, my son isn’t going to participate in this next part.”

  She sniffed. “In that case, you can’t inflict worse pain than I’ve already endured. The day you shot him and I believed he was dead is the worst you can ever do.” Her tone strengthened until it shone with steel. “So do your worst, Cut Hawk, because I can survive you.”

  Cut didn’t reply, but his hand lashed out to wrap around her waist. “We’ll see about that.” Jerking her elbow, he spun her around to face away from him. “If that’s how you want to play this.” Letting her go, he pulled out a switchblade from his back pocket.

  My heart splattered into my toes.

  Stop!

  I growled and struggled, but it was no use.

  Shit!

  Maybe I was wrong. Maybe the Fourth Debt would still include slicing off a limb or appendage. I had to stop him!

  Don’t!

  Don’t fucking touch her!

  With a flick of his wrist, Cut sliced through the rope around Nila’s wrists and spun her around to face him again.

  The relief at no blood being drawn layered my shoulders with heavy relief. I slouched, breathing hard, fighting through the thump-thump of my headache.

  Thank fuck.

  Tucking the knife back into his pocket, he smiled. “Now you’ve had time to think about your lies, Nila, let’s try again. Where is Daniel?”

  Black hair flicked as she shook her head. “I’ve already told you. I don’t know.”

  “You do know.”

  “I don’t.”

  Cut gathered her close, wedging her body against his. “When I find out the truth, you’ll understand I can deliver pain outside of the original debts to be claimed.” He ran a hand over her chin. “If I find out you’ve hurt or somehow killed my youngest, you’ll wish to God you died in the car crash today.”