Indebted Epilogue Page 8

  Once the room had received their piece of confectionary, Jaz wheeled toward me and handed out the plates of cake on her lap to my children.

  Pinching Emma’s nose, she said, “Now the present giving has ended, how about some cake? I want to eat your wish, little Velcro, so I can make sure it comes true.”

  Kes slung his arm over his sister. With boyish fingers, he grabbed the icing and smeared a huge handful into his mouth. “About time.”

  The room laughed.

  And my world was perfect.

  I was drunk.

  Not on liquor or intoxicating substances but on happiness.

  Pure, unadulterated happiness.

  Such a cliché expression: I’m drunk on happiness. But for the first time in my life, I could positively say it was true.

  “Hey, man, we’re gonna push off.” Vaughn clasped my shoulder, squeezing tight.

  The last few hours had passed in good company and gentle conversation. The crowded parlour had dispersed after the cake had been devoured and Tex and Jacqueline had gone to their guest rooms while Nila and I retired to the newly decorated den with the children. Jaz and Vaughn had joined us, pulling out Twister and other silly games to tire Kes and Emma.

  “You’re safe to drive? You guys can just crash here.” I smirked. “It’s not like we don’t have the room.”

  Jaz smoothed the blanket over her legs, reclining beside Nila. “V has the clothing line reveal tomorrow. We want to get back tonight.” Her eyes landed on Vaughn. The intimacy and tenderness between them layered my happiness.

  I never thought my sister would leave Hawksridge, let alone find love and support her chosen partner in the limelight, where her disability was questioned and discussed. But she had and she’d never looked better.

  The fireplace crackled warmly, the burgundy drapes ensconced us away from the rest of the world, and the scattered bean-bags and toys on the floor painted Hawksridge in a completely different light than the one that’d existed for so long.

  “Do you need any final adjustments?” Nila asked, running her fingertips casually through Emma’s hair.

  My daughter’s energy level dwindled. She remained awake, playing Legos with Kestrel, but the long day finally sneaked closer to sending her into slumber.

  Vaughn waved dismissively. “Nah, I’m fine. You’ve given me enough of your time making the men collection perfect.”

  Nila glowed. “Anything for you.”

  Vaughn beamed. “Ditto, sis.”

  Over the past eight years, V and I became fast friends. He was prickly and opinionated, smug and sometimes arrogant, but he adored his twin and was besotted with my sister. He adored the ground Jasmine wheeled over and treated her with the utmost care and respect.

  His friendship soothed the hole left behind by Kes, giving me the comradery to share a beer at a local pub or just discuss meaningless things, but he’d never be able to fill the emotional void left by my brother—nor did I want him to.

  I enjoyed V’s company, but he didn’t control his thoughts around me like Kes could. I knew far more than I needed to about how much he loved Jasmine, how much he found the power in her forearms from wheeling herself around a turn on, and how much he longed to cradle her in his arms after a long day at the Weaver factory.

  I shifted in my wingback, nursing the small amount of cognac I’d poured. “Well, I wish you the best of luck for the reveal.”

  “Thanks.”

  Taking a sip of amber fire, I asked, “You up for clay shooting next weekend?”

  V rubbed his hands together. “Damn right, I am. Gonna kick your arse after the last beating you gave me.”

  “Come up for the weekend.” Nila ran a hand through her long hair, loosely draping the strands over her shoulders. She’d slipped into a knitted jumper, and her hair weaved with the wool. I loved that the length was the same as the day I claimed her.

  Jasmine smiled. “Sure. Sounds good. We’ll come up on Friday and spend a few days with you guys.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Glancing at Vaughn, I pointed a finger. “However, if you’re up here to shoot clay and play with your niece and nephew, then no sleeping in until midday.”

  Jasmine swallowed a laugh.

  V simpered. “Hey, blame that on your sister. She likes mornings and things that happen in the morning.”

  Nila clamped hands over Emma’s ears while Kes looked up with a confused glance. “V!”

  He laughed, shrugging. “What? I won’t get blamed for sleeping in when it’s not my fault.”

  I tossed back the rest of my drink. “Gross. I don’t want to hear thank you very much.”

  V chuckled louder, ducking to slug my bicep. “Figured you’d knocked up my sister, might as well try to return the favour.”

  I choked on a mouthful of cognac. “Excuse me?”

  His eyes gleamed as he glanced across the room at Nila and Jasmine, sitting side by side on matching bean-bags. Jaz used her chair, but V had become her legs. He seemed to know when she wanted to move, lifting her effortlessly from her chair and placing her wherever she wanted. Sometimes, he’d just randomly pluck her from wherever she was and march out of the room, only to return thirty minutes later with wind-pinched cheeks and swollen lips.

  As much as I ribbed Vaughn for stealing my sister, I couldn’t be more grateful. He’d given her a new life. He’d expanded her walls, given her a fresh world, and I’d never seen her so happy.

  In summer, she had a tan from V pushing her through sunshine fields and carrying her to nap in the orchard. In winter, she sported a red nose—the only thing exposed seeing as V went out of his way to bundle her up so tightly.

  For someone who’d never left the Hall, she now travelled with him on buying trips for his company, laughed more, and lived her life rather than just existed.

  Vaughn looked at the picture-perfect scene before us. His joking switched to solemn want. “You have rugrats. Wouldn’t it make sense for them to have cousins to grow up with?”

  I frowned. They’d taken a long time to make that decision and I didn’t think it was from lack of wanting children but Vaughn’s fear that Jasmine wouldn’t cope being pregnant.

  I tried to block out the prying ability of my condition, but kids had been on their minds for a while. They’d either figured out the issues causing them grief or had finally decided to let nature take its course.

  Nila looked up, making eye contact with me across the room. The rugrats V mentioned sat in front of her and Jaz. Two black and bronze-haired demons I wouldn’t change in the slightest. The thought of filling the ancient Hall with laughter instead of tears was a perfect goal.

  Clinking my empty glass with Vaughn’s knuckles, I smiled happily. “Deal. Make Kes and Emma a few cousins but first…marry my damn sister and make an honest woman out of her.”

  V laughed. “Believe me, I’ve been trying. She accepted my ring but won’t set a date.”

  I caught Jaz’s eyes. I knew why. She tried to hide it, but her thoughts were always broadcast on a loud frequency. She didn’t set a date because deep inside, she still didn’t feel deserving of Vaughn when she wasn’t ‘complete.’

  I didn’t care I would sound stupid and let on just how many secrets I harboured, I whispered, “Jaz, you are complete. You’re more than any other woman I know besides my wife.”

  She sucked in a breath, her eyes glittering with flames from the fire. “Thanks, Kite.”

  Vaughn paused, letting the random sentences fade before joking, “Besides, are you sure you want a Hawk to become a Weaver? What happens if some tyrant tries to claim our firstborn Weaver daughter in a few years?”

  My heart panged, watching Nila and loving her so much it hurt. “They wouldn’t take yours. They’d come after mine. I was the one who was supposed to change his last name, remember? But I didn’t and the curse is broken. It’s finished. Done. Over.”

  Vaughn sighed. “My mum would be proud of you, you know? Proud of how you stopped it and saved Nila.”r />
  I remembered Emma and her iron-gentle spirit. I’d grown to care for her during her short stay and looked up to her for how strong she was. “I should’ve saved her.”

  “We all agreed not to live in the past, remember?” Stepping away from me, Vaughn headed toward the women and two little ones by the fire. “We have a new future to enjoy.”

  Without conscious thought, I stood and followed him. Nila smiled as I stood over her, looking down at the two dark heads of our children. Her fingers wrapped around my bare ankle. “I missed you.”

  My heart swelled and cracked, pouring with adoration and contentment. “I missed you, too.”

  Dropping to my haunches, I positioned myself beside her and dragged her from the bean-bag and into my lap. Nuzzling her neck, I kissed her diamond collar and then her petal-soft skin.

  She moaned under her breath, “I think it’s bedtime…don’t you?”

  My eyes dived into hers, telling her without words that I needed her so goddamn much.

  A small hand tugged on my jeans. “Daddy, story?”

  I sighed. So much for bedtime.

  I rolled my eyes dramatically. “And why do you think you deserve a tale, tiny Emma?”

  Nila reached out and tickled the little girl who looked exactly like her. Same cheekbones, chin, and lips. However, Emma had my eyes—Hawk eyes—a trait so strong every single sibling of mine shared. “Where are your manners, Velcro?”

  Emma giggled at Nila’s nickname for her. On her second birthday, she’d fallen into a basket of Velcro teeth ready for invisible zippers. Her soft cotton jumpsuit latched onto the plastic thorns, ensuring untangling her took a lot of tugging and cursing. The damn child now had an addiction to pulling apart Velcro; she loved the noise.

  Kestrel abandoned his Legos, shuffling closer to lean against my thigh. “Can we have a story? Just one. Please?”

  I couldn’t help myself. Looping an arm around his small shoulders, I hugged him. Nila on my lap and Kes and Emma wedged against my sides—what could be more perfect? “You want a story?”

  Emma bounced up and down, but Kes merely nodded. His thoughts sweet, steadfast, and protective. He adored his little sister. And if she wanted a story, he would make sure she got a story.

  His golden eyes locked with mine, pleading. Goosebumps darted down my arms, wondering, if in some small way, my brother and best friend might’ve found a way to communicate via my son.

  Kes wriggled in my embrace. “Tell us a story. Just one. Then bed. Promise.”

  Nila laughed. “How often have we heard that?”

  Kes smirked, a lock of hair curling on his forehead. “Promise. Hope to die. Cross my heart.”

  Jasmine giggled. “Got that back to front, Kessy.”

  Kes stuck out this tongue. “Daddy knows what I mean.”

  I laughed softly as Vaughn slid to the carpet, resting his back against the chaise and scooping Jasmine into his lap. “You’re right. I do know what you mean.”

  Kes clapped his hands. “Good. Gimme the story then.”

  “Story! Story!” Emma curled up, cocooning all of us in a family bubble.

  This right here.

  This was happiness.

  And I was no longer drunk on it.

  I was infested by it.

  This was my family.

  My new chosen family.

  We won.

  Nila’s thoughts washed over me in an influx of honey and serenity. Her heart swelled with love.

  Squashing my two children, I grabbed my wife and kissed her hard.

  Kes pretended to vomit, and Emma squealed. Jasmine and Vaughn just groaned, “Get a room.”

  Nila broke the kiss, her onyx eyes glowing with tenderness. “I guess we owe these demons a story.”

  “I guess we do.”

  “I’ve got a story.” Vaughn tickled Kes. “A story about a dragon and a little boy who got gobbled up.”

  “No!” Kes struggled, scrunching up his face and trying not to laugh. “I like Daddy’s stories.”

  My eyebrows rose. “My stories?”

  I didn’t understand. Nila was the story queen. She’d trawl the internet for every Disney animation, picture book, and tale she could find. I’d just linger in the dark, listening to her sultry voice and grow drowsy with the two infants before she put me to bed and used her mouth in other ways.

  “Yes, we want the story of you and Mummy!” Kes looked at his sister. “True story, right, Em?”

  Emma clapped her hands. “True. True!”

  Vaughn muttered under his breath. “God, I think you’re a small statistic of parents who should never tell their kids how they met. It’s not like you shacked up at some bar and made a drunken mistake—that’s a bad enough tale to have, but mentioning a beheading for a debt from the 1400’s…kind of far-fetched.”

  I chuckled. “It is far-fetched…but perhaps that’s what makes it a good story?”

  Jaz narrowed her eyes. “How do you mean?”

  “I mean life isn’t meant to be generic and follow a pre-approved script.”

  Nila murmured, “If it did, where would the adventures be…the dragon-slaying knights and unicorn-riding princesses?”

  “I’m a princess,” Emma announced, poking herself in the chest. “I am. Me.”

  I grinned indulgently. “And what sort of princess are you?”

  She suddenly shot to her tiny feet and soared around the beanbags in her pink tutu with her arms stretched wide. “I’m a Hawk princess.”

  Nila grabbed her mid-run, tickling her and blowing raspberries on her neck. “A hawk, huh? Not an eagle or a kite or a vulture?”

  Emma wrinkled her nose. “No, silly. A hawk.” Pointing at me, Nila, and Kes, she said, “We’re all Hawks.”

  Nila’s thoughts tangled between marrying me and taking my last name and the fact that Jasmine would soon become a Weaver. We’d swapped roles. Blended our bloodlines.

  Gathering my family closer, I said, “Okay, you want a story? I’ve got a story.”

  Instantly, the children hunkered down, their amber eyes locked on me. Jaz, V, and Nila placed me in the centre of attention, waiting for me to spin something crazy and fantastical.

  But I wouldn’t do that.

  I wouldn’t dishonour my children by lying to them, and I wouldn’t discredit the past and not learn from history. They wanted to know the story of how Nila and I met? Okay, they’d hear the truth, and it was up to them to deem fact from fiction.

  My children would be the opposite of what I’d been groomed to be. They would be kind and helpful; they’d never want for anything, but they would know how to help others less fortunate. They would be better.

  “Once upon a time, there was a seamstress named Needle and Thread.”

  Emma sighed, snuggling closer to Nila. “She’s like you, Mummy.”

  Kes shook his head defiantly. “She is Mummy.”

  My heart fisted with love. “That’s right. Now, stop interrupting.” Taking a deep breath, I hugged them harder. “One night, Needle had the largest party of her life. Kings and queens came from everywhere to see her magical creations with lace and cotton. She’d worked for years to create something so perfect and a dress that defied all beauty. A dress with feathers and diamantes and silk.”

  “And the naughty prince ripped it off her.” Nila kissed my cheek, granting the secret words directly into my ear. “He threw her on his gallant steed and stole her into darkness.”

  Placing her head on my shoulder, she breathed, “But he was already in love with her, so he’d lost the fight before it’d begun.”

  Kes and Emma couldn’t hear what my incredible wife whispered, and I fought the urge to steal her away again and show her just how much I wanted her for eternity.

  I fought the urge while my children waited for me to continue. But I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Nila. “I was, you know.”

  She tensed, her eyes meeting mine. “You were? The text messages? They were enough to fall—”

>   “Fall in love with you? I think I fell in love with you when we met the final time when you were thirteen.”

  “I don’t remember that.”

  “You wouldn’t. I was supposed to say hello, but I couldn’t ruin your day. You looked so happy. So I watched you in the park and gave my heart to you without even knowing it.”

  “Story! You’re forgetting the story.” Emma tugged on my sleeve, her face open and eager. “Please…”

  Nila shifted in my arms, kissing me gently. “I loved you when you were Kite007. I loved you when you were Jethro Hawk, and I loved you when you finally became mine.”

  “Ewww.” Kes stuck his tongue out.

  With my soul about to split open with joy, I forced myself to ignore my wife and continue with the tale. Once the children were in bed and Jaz and V had gone, I’d spend the rest of the night showing Nila just how much I adored her and how glad I was that our story existed.

  My voice threaded around the room, plaiting with the crackle of the fireplace. “Where was I? Oh yes, that’s right. The dress Needle and Thread created was the most incredible thing anyone had ever seen. People offered to buy her castles and paradise for the chance to have her sew for them.

  “Everything seemed right in the world, but Needle didn’t know that a monstrous prince was coming for her. That he’d lied to her for months, sent secretive messages, and stolen her heart without her knowing.” I paused for dramatics, squeezing Kes and Emma tight. “He’d been sent to hurt her.”

  “No!” Emma squeaked.

  “Oh, yes.” I nodded sadly. “His task was to hunt her, hurt her, devour her.”

  Kes balled his tiny fists. “But you didn’t let the bad prince take Mummy, did you?”

  I lowered my voice, turning grave. “I did.”

  “No! Why?”

  “Because…I was the bad prince. I’d been given a task to prove I was royal enough to inherit the realm and faraway castles, but no matter how bad I was, Needle had a magic I couldn’t fight.”

  I settled into the soft bean-bag, diving committedly into the tale.

  I wouldn’t sugar-coat.

  I’d tell them of the debts and pain. I’d gloss over things too old for their young ears, but I would ensure the message behind the history remained.