Final Debt (Indebted #6)(52)

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. Motherf*cking 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 f*cking 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 motherf*cking 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.