Final Debt (Indebted #6)(38)

But I had the power to keep Jethro alive. I would do whatever it took.

“Me, you get me. Just…let him go.”

Cut stood upright. “No. I have a better idea.” Snapping his fingers, he ordered a guard closer. “Bind his hands.”

The guard nodded. Dropping to his knee, he rolled Jethro roughly onto his stomach, not caring his bloody face squashed into the dirt. Efficiently, the guard wrapped the same coarse rope that’d bound me in the mines around his wrists.

It physically hurt watching them maul him while he couldn’t defend himself. Then again, it was better this way. This way, he couldn’t antagonise his father or somehow manage to get shot a second time.

Please, wake up.

Please, don’t leave me.

Selfishness rose. It would be better if he left in peace. If he slipped quietly away. But I couldn’t stomach his loss.

Whatever Cut had planned would make both of us wish we’d died. The belief that we’d get out of this intact and alive was left in the disfigured Jeep, crushing our dreams into African soil.

Cut wiped his hands on his jeans, glaring at the workmen. “Has anyone seen Daniel?”

Men scuffed their boots, fiddling with their guns. None of them made eye contact.

Finally, someone found a backbone. “No, boss. Not since last night at the ceremony.”

Cut scowled, running a hand across his face. “Well, find him. He can’t have run off too far.” His glare landed on me. “Unless you have something you want to share with me, Nila?”

I glared right back, silent.

“Fine.” Pacing, Cut growled, “Search the compound, head to the mine to see if he was stupid enough to go there, and check the plains around the camp. I want him to be a part of the afternoon plans, and he doesn’t get to skive off just because he has a f*cking hangover.”

My lips twitched. I’d won in some small measure against Cut.

Daniel was suffering the worst hangover of his life.

In pieces.

The workers nodded, fanning out in levels of importance to carry out Cut’s orders.

When only a few men remained, Cut said quietly, “That damn son of mine has to learn a thing or two.” Pointing at the man who’d rescued me, he ordered, “Take them to cave 333.”

“Yes, boss.” The man ducked to collect me.

Cut grinned, stepping closer, blotting out the sunshine with this evilness. “I think it’s time you learned a few secrets, Nila, and for my eldest to learn that nothing he does can stop me.”

I wanted to scream. I wanted to kill. But I bit my tongue and stewed. I’d had my chance to leave. We both did. We’d done what we could, but it wasn’t good enough.

Now, we would pay yet another price.

Another debt.

Another toll.

My entire body howled as the worker hoisted me to my feet. My imbalance threw me sideways, turning the world into a broken jigsaw. I groaned as I gave up trying to find an anchor and swam in vertigo.

“Carry her, for f*ck’s sake,” Cut snarled. “She won’t make it otherwise.”

“Yes, boss.” The worker’s arms scooped me up, holding me firm. I squirmed, looking drunkenly over his shoulder as he carted me away.

Bye, Jethro…

I didn’t relax.

I didn’t cry.

But I did die inside as another worker hauled Jethro into his arms and together we were thrown into a Jeep and taken to perpetual hell.



The stickiness of Daniel’s blood stained my hands as his father paced before me. Luckily, it threaded with the blood from my sliced cheek and grated legs from the car accident, hiding my sins.

We were no longer above ground but below it.

Cave 333.

Deeper than the caves Cut showed me. Bigger than the sorting or paraphernalia storage caves by the surface.

My bruised body craved sunlight. To beg the sunshine to grant me its healing power so I could run.

But in here…with dampness and rankness and darkness—I was already dead and buried.

There would be no exhuming into daylight. No one to disembalm us when Cut had finished his morbid chores.

Cut dragged his hands through his hair, never stopping his pacing. His white shirt stained and jeans dust-smeared. “Answers, Ms. Weaver. I expect them. This very f*cking second.”

I bit my tongue, glancing at the earthen walls, wrapping around us with a cold, moist welcome, swallowing us whole like a greedy giant.

This wasn’t a cave. It was the giant’s stomach. Its entrails.

“You have exactly three seconds to tell me what I want to know. Otherwise, I’ll stop treating you as my guest and hurt you as my prisoner instead.”

I snorted. “The past six months was you treating me as your guest? Last night with the coin toss? This morning with the gunfire? That’s typical behaviour for your guests?” Flames smouldered in my belly, suppressing my injuries and allowing me to focus on staying alive.

Cut spun to face me, stalking quickly to slam his hands on the armrests of the wooden chair he’d tied me to. “Six months in my house and haven’t I kept you fed and content and given you free rein to explore? Last night, didn’t I give you something to make the Third Debt more bearable? I let you dance, smile. You had fun, Nila. You can’t deny that.” His voice lowered to a hiss. “You had f*cking fun and you cannot say otherwise.”