Third Debt Read online

  It was me versus them now. I wouldn’t back down again.

  I’m done being tortured.

  It was their turn.

  Daniel stomped forward, throwing his hands up in a bad boy tantrum. “But, you fucking promised.”

  Cut sniffed. “I promised nothing. You will still inherit, but as I’m tearing up all the rules lately, there might be a dual inheritance. Primogeniture is over. I’m looking at all bases now.”

  “But that’s not fair! There are rules, contracts!”

  “Yes, and if I’d followed those rules, you wouldn’t have her either, you fucking ingrate,” Cut snapped. “I need a few days to unscramble this shit-storm. Then we can proceed correctly once the documents have been amended.”

  Wait. Documents? What amendments?

  Daniel laughed, slipping beside me and wrapping his hand in my hair. The long strands tangled around his wrist, providing a perfect rope to jerk me away from Jasmine.

  Only, she didn’t let go. Her nails dug deeper into my wrist, keeping me pinned between the two fighting siblings.

  “Let her go. She’s mine!” Jaz slammed on her brakes.

  “You can have her when I’ve taken what I want.” Daniel yanked me toward him.

  I cried out, tripping and swaying, two parts of me caught by two Hawks.

  Oh, my God.

  I was a piñata in the middle of a feuding family—tugged and devoured and ultimately beaten until I’d split open and die.

  I laughed out loud at the insanity stinking up the room.

  Jasmine was as bonkers as the rest of her bloodline. She would have to go, too.

  He’s dead.

  He’s dead.

  He was good where they’re all bad.

  “Quit it!” Cut roared at the same time as Bonnie screeched, “Behave yourselves!”

  The Hawk siblings quit squabbling like brats. We looked at Cut and Bonnie, panting hard, trapped in a cycle of idiocy.

  “For fuck’s sake.” Cut dragged a hand over his face. “You’re acting like two-year olds. I have a good mind to take the strap to both of you.” His gaze fell on his children, searing and intense. “She’ll be locked up until we have a family meeting. Then we can decide who has her first and what punishments shall be divided.”

  Jasmine sneered, “See, Dan. Let her go.”

  “You let go first.”

  “God, you’re such a moron.” Jasmine relinquished her hold. Instantly, blood seeped from the slices she’d given, trickling down my wrist.

  “You’re just an invalid who’s never been laid.” Daniel threw me away. “You always had it so easy, sister. Ever since your ‘accident.’”

  My ears pricked. The aura of mystery surrounding Jasmine only grew thicker. I wanted to know everything about her before I ended her. Just like I wanted to know everything about Bonnie, Cut, and Daniel. I would wear their history like a talisman. I would be the last person to know their tales before they faded into obscurity.

  Jasmine sniffed. “You’re pissed that your worthless invalid sister has won. I’m the eldest now; therefore, my word is law.”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Jaz,” Cut said.

  Daniel ignored him. “That’s not it at all.” Slamming his hands on the handrails of Jasmine’s chair, he hemmed her in. “Now I have two women on my shit list instead of one.” He dragged a finger across his throat. “I’d watch out if I were you.”

  Pushing off, he deliberately shouldered Cut out of the way, scowled at Bonnie, and stalked from the room.

  The moment he disappeared, my muscles quivered. Somehow, I’d avoided whatever would’ve happened. I’d slipped into shock and come out ready to murder. And I’d been given to yet another Hawk who hated me.

  Cut shook his head, looking at his mother. “They never fucking learn.”

  Bonnie laughed. “Neither did you, dear. Not for a long time.”

  He wrapped an arm around her brittle shoulders. “I can’t imagine ever being so terrible.”

  My fingernails dug into my palm as I witnessed a seemingly normal bond. How could evil have so many layers? How could it be so obvious one moment, then hidden by family ties and hierarchy the next?

  Bonnie tapped her cane against Cut’s foot. “You’re not forgetting what you did, are you? Because I have news for you—you were worse. A lot worse.” Moving forward, she dislodged his hold. “But I straightened out the mess you made. I put things right. I have every faith you will, too.”

  Cut nodded. “Damn right, I will.” His eyes strained but apart from a few cracks in his smooth veneer, I would never have guessed he’d pulled the trigger on two of his children.

  He’s dead.

  He’s dead.

  All because of me.

  Inching closer to Jasmine, I whispered so only she would hear. “He tried to shoot you, but Jethro saved you. Do you have no shame?”

  Her eyes zeroed in on mine. Thoughts and emotions flickered over her face but she didn’t reply.

  Her betrayal hurt. Jethro and Kes had loved her. They’d died for her. Who could claim to love them in return yet continue to be in the same house as the man who’d shot them?

  My stomach twisted. “You make me sick.”

  Her hands tightened around the rims of her wheels. Shutters slammed over her eyes, but still no response.

  Tears stung but I had nothing else to say. Only one promise that she might as well hear, so she’d know who truly loved her brother. “I’ll kill you for this. Just like I’ll kill them.”

  She sat taller. Locking eyes with me, she said icily, “I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” Raising her voice, she pointed at the door. “Your fate will be discussed and decreed. Go to your room. Leave us.”

  I rubbed my wrist, smearing the blood she’d conjured. When I didn’t move, she herded me with silver wheels toward the exit.

  “I said leave.” She didn’t stop, pushing me between Cut and Bonnie.

  My skin crawled as Cut reached out, gathering me to him. He brushed aside black hair that’d stuck to my clammy cheeks. His golden eyes shone with power. “I’m afraid our timeframe has accelerated since you’ve arrived. Emma was in my control for a delightful length of time. I’d hoped Jethro could manage the same. But…I raised lacklustre sons and have to hope my daughter can do better.”

  Jasmine nudged against the back of my thighs. “Let her go, father. She has to be trained in obedience.” Her legs remained covered with a rose-coloured blanket, but temper flared her cheeks. “That was her issue with Jet. She never listened. I’ll teach her otherwise.”

  How did I judge someone so wrong? All this time, I thought Jasmine was half-way sane—a crutch for her brother and stronger than all of them combined. But she was just as diabolical.

  “If anyone can do it, it’s you, Jasmine.” Cut released me. “I have no doubt.”

  Bonnie smiled, leaning on her stick. “Jasmine is an exemplary student. She’ll rise to the challenge.”

  “You never have to doubt, father.” Jasmine’s frosty voice sent goosebumps over my skin. “I’m ten times the man my brothers were.”

  Who was this person? This cold-hearted harpy who didn’t care. How could she sit there and speak to the man who’d killed her brothers, let alone agree to torture me.

  He’s dead.

  He’s dead.

  He’s free from this insanity.

  I couldn’t control the frothing animosity any longer. My lips pulled back. “You’re all monsters. Every single one of you. You’ll all pay.”

  Cut sighed, “You were told to leave, Ms. Weaver. I suggest you listen.”

  Bonnie swatted the back of my calves with her stick. “Move, you little guttersnipe.”

  “Wait, grandmamma.” Jasmine wheeled herself in front of me with a few expert manoeuvres. “I have something else I want to say.”

  The room sucked in a breath, all of us waiting.

  Her gaze fell on mine, dead and empty. “You, Nila Weaver, are the reason my best friend is dead. Yo
u are the reason I am now sister to only one brother. And you are the reason my family is falling apart.” Her face darkened, manicured eyebrows shadowing angry eyes. “I asked you once to let the debts take place. I asked you to give your life for him—like it has always been. But you didn’t listen.”

  Rolling away, she waved at the door. “Go to your room and think about that. Because this time, I’m not giving you a choice.

  “This time, I’ll make you pay.”

  I WOULD NEVER sleep again.

  Not while Daniel roamed the corridors and Cut held my life in his hands. I would never relax while they breathed. I would never drop my guard while they plotted my demise.

  But while they plotted, I plotted.

  Together, we would meet in hell, and I was past caring who would win. As long as I exterminated them, I would happily trade my life for justice.

  Twelve hours passed.

  Twelve hours where my heart bled for Jethro and every minute erased his imprint on this world.

  Twelve hours where I’d been alone.

  I hadn’t seen anyone but Flaw. He’d knocked on my door around 9:00 p.m., bringing venison stew and crusty baguettes. He’d looked as bad as I did—his piercing eyes fogged with stress, his dark hair a turbulent mess. He was a direct mirror of grey disbelief and desolation. I’d wanted him to stay—to protect me if Daniel decided to pay a nocturnal visit, but the moment he’d delivered my dinner, he left.

  Food was ash inside my mouth, but I forced small bites, painstakingly swallowing and providing energy to the only weapon I could rely on. Once I’d eaten every morsel, I’d sat cross-legged in the centre of my bed and tightened my grip around the ruby-encrusted dirk.

  I couldn’t lie down because Jethro's smell laced my sheets.

  I couldn’t close my eyes because his handsome face and blazing love haunted me.

  And I couldn’t relax because I needed to be ready to attack if any Hawk came for me.

  Only, they never came.

  Daybreak brought a smidgen of peace, illuminating Hawksridge—yet again, hiding the filthy evil that seemed so obvious at night.

  My cheeks itched from the salt of my sadness, and my head ached from dehydration.

  For one heart-ripping moment, I permitted myself to fall face first on the bedding where Jethro had told me everything. I allowed grief to grab me with thick arms and smother me in terrible tears.

  I relived his touch and kisses. I punished myself with memories of him slipping inside me, of him saying he loved me for the first time. I came completely undone as I hugged my knife and inhaled the last reminders I would ever have of him.

  I had no photographs, no love letters.

  Only a few texts and recollections.

  They weren’t worth any monetary value, but in a blink, they became my most prized possessions.

  Once I’d shed a final tear and drugged myself on his subtle flavour of woods and leather, I hauled myself out of bed and into the shower. Stepping into the hot spray felt like a betrayal to Jethro—as if I washed away the past, moving into a future without him.

  I thought I’d cried my final tear, but beneath the waterfall, I purged again, letting my tears swirl down the drain.

  I will kill them.

  And I will dance on their graves when I do.

  Dawn morphed to morning, one hour blending into another, drifting me further from Jethro’s memory.

  I tried to leave. My body was weak, needing fuel, mimicking my aching heart with emptiness. But the doorknob refused to spin.

  They’d locked me inside.

  Could I break it down? Destroy it? But why should I waste my fury on an innocent door when Cut and Daniel deserved to be torn into smithereens?

  So, I did the only thing I could. I sat on my chaise and gripped my cell-phone with chilly fingers, begging for a miracle to happen.

  Text me, Jethro.

  Prove it’s all a big mistake.

  Over and over, I repeated my prayer, only for the stubborn phone never to answer. It remained blank and unfeeling, the battery slowly dwindling. The battle to keep going drained me to the point of exhaustion.

  I could call for help. I could ring the police chief who’d taken me back after the Second Debt. But they’d wiped my file when I did the Vanity Fair interview. I’d cried wolf and they wouldn’t believe me—especially as most of them were bought by Cut.

  Plus, I can’t leave Vaughn. I couldn’t risk giving them ammunition to hurt him.

  Indulging in the past, rather than dwelling on a desolate future, I opened every text he’d sent, reliving the rush and sexual frustration of forbidden whispers.

  Kite007: Me and my wandering hand missed you.

  The intoxicating innocence when I didn’t know it was him.

  Kite007: If I said I wanted one night of blatant honesty, no douche-baggery, no bullshit of any kind, what would you say?

  The first crack in his cool exterior, revealing just how deep he ran.

  Kite007: I feel what you feel. Whether it be a kiss or a kick or a killing blow. I wished I didn’t, but you’re mine. Therefore, you are my affliction.

  The first taste of truth when he told me his condition in riddles.

  Kite007: Don’t go into the dark alone, little Weaver. Monsters roam the shadows, and your time is officially up.

  The last darkness inside him that’d vanished entirely the night we revealed everything.

  All of it.

  Every letter and comma were still tangible, while the author had now vanished. I would’ve given anything for him to reappear—to magically reverse tragedy and come back to me.

  Jethro…

  Hunching over my phone, I let go again.

  Wracking sobs, heaving ribs, and a dying soul screaming that nothing would ever be the same.

  He’s dead.

  He’s…

  dead.

  At lunchtime, Flaw appeared.

  My only visitor and I didn’t know if he was friend or foe.

  For the past while, I’d stared into space, picturing gruesome ways to end it.

  I couldn’t cry anymore.

  I couldn’t read Kite’s texts anymore.

  All I could do was exist in a room where scents of love mixed with smells of war, settling deeper into hate.

  Flaw didn’t speak, only delivered a meal of salad and cured ham. With sad eyes, he retreated from my room and locked the door.

  It’d taken over an hour before I had the energy to move from my crumpled, soggy ball. Along with the agony of grief, I’d surpassed the craving of hunger, leaving me blissfully blank of basic necessities.

  I shivered, but I wasn’t cold.

  My stomach growled, but I wasn’t hungry.

  My heart kept beating, but I was no longer alive.

  I wasn’t human. I was a killer waiting for first blood.

  Blood.

  The thought of extracting hot, sticky red from Cut and Daniel kick-started my energy. My hand curled around my blade as I crawled across the carpet and poked the food.

  Eat.

  Stay strong.

  Kill.

  The ham settled like salty concrete on my tongue. Every mouthful wasn’t about nutrition or satisfaction—it was about building power so I was ready for war.

  Minute by minute, my anger solidified. The Hawks had been untouchable for long enough. They believed no amount of treason or rebellion could dethrone them.

  They were wrong.

  Their reign was over. It was time for a new ruler. One who stood for justice rather than debts. One who would avenge those she’d lost.

  They’ve underestimated me.

  And they would die because of it.

  Dusk crept silently across my carpet.

  The tentative darkness sucked the light from glittering sequins, sinking into rich velvet from the fabric bolts on the walls. Every minute its gloomy fingers made their way stealthily from window to bed, reminding me that my world might’ve ended yesterday, but the rest of the gl
obe didn’t care.

  The sun still rose.

  The moon still set.

  And my heart still beat regardless.

  My ears pricked as the harsh scrape of a key echoed from the opposite side of the room. I sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes, grabbing my dirk from the covers.

  The door swung open.

  I shifted to my knees, wielding the knife. After my shower last night, I’d dressed in black leggings and an oversized cream cardigan. But no matter how many layers or quilts I snuggled beneath, I couldn’t eradicate the chill of loneliness.

  My ears still echoed with gunshots.

  My mind replayed the moment when Kes collapsed with blood blooming on his shirt, and Jethro dove to protect his sister.

  The sister who didn’t deserve to be saved.

  My jaw clenched.

  Jasmine.

  She was in equal running for my dislike with Daniel. In fact, she was worse. Always coming across as gentle and removed from her mad family—when, in actual fact, she’d been the instigator and in cahoots with Bonnie.

  Flaw appeared.

  Peering around the door, he wore his typical outfit of jeans, black t-shirt, and Black Diamonds jacket. His gaze drifted to the knife in my hands, raising an eyebrow. “If you don’t want that confiscated, I’d hide it if I were you.”

  My hands shook. “Why are you here?” I didn’t see any trays of food. A social call was out of the question. Shuffling higher, I narrowed my eyes. “Why do you care if they take my knife or not?”

  He ran a hand through his hair, opening the door wider. “Don’t like this situation any more than you do.”

  His voice sounded loud and obtrusive, spilling secrets. It was the first time I’d spoken to someone since I’d been locked up; I’d forgotten how to do it.

  My heart ached. “You miss them, too?”

  Jethro…

  Kes…

  The only ones not tainted by Hawk insanity.

  He nodded. “Kes has been a close friend for years. Didn’t have much to do with Jethro until recently, but he proved he was a good bloke. Almost as good as his brother.”

  His comment hurt irrationally. To me, Jethro was better than anyone. Then again, my heart was biased. Kestrel was a genuine, caring friend who’d sacrificed far too much for people who didn’t deserve him.