Final Debt (Indebted #6)(79)

Shit.

Four-hundred and five.

Four-hundred and six.

Four-hundred…and seven…heartbeats.

She’s having a heart attack.

Seconds whizzed past as the knowledge sank deep.

No!

Fate stole her death away from me.

I wanted to take it.

Her heart.

Her life.

She owed me.

But the very thing I’d stabbed in Daniel was now failing in Bonnie.

Thump—thump. Thump…

“Damn you, Bonnie.” I climbed to my feet, standing over her with the flower shears. I’d wanted to capture her soul as it escaped her body but destiny hadn’t judged me worthy. Perhaps claiming Daniel’s soul was all I was allowed. Bonnie’s belonged to more powerful entities.

The ghosts of my ancestor’s filled her chest cavity, slipping into heart chambers, blocking veins and arteries.

Her back arched as if an exorcism was performed. She reached for me. The greyness of her face slipped straight into starch white. “He—hel—help…”

“No…”

I backed away.

I wasn’t worthy enough to take her life, but I would watch every moment. I would stand vigil as she passed away at my feet and would cherish the moment when she existed no more.

But then the door swung in.

The f*cking door swung and Cut entered.

He stormed into the room. Summoned by deep family bond, his posture switched from confident and assured to frozen in shock. His eyes bounced between me standing over his mother with sharp scissors and Bonnie convulsing on the floor. His eyes glittered, his face arranging into symptoms of disbelief, shock, and outrage.

How long did it take someone to die of cardiac arrest?

Die, Bonnie. Die.

The mantra repeated from when I’d killed Daniel.

Die, Hawk. Die.

“Fuck!” Cut launched into action, sprinting across the boudoir and slamming to his knees beside his mother.

She rattled and chortled, breathless and wheezing. Her eyes begged for help while her heart suffocated.

“Hold on. Hold on.” Raising his voice, he screamed, “Someone call a f*cking ambulance!”

No one replied. No Diamond Brothers spilled into the room. No one to take orders.

I just stood there.

A morbid spectator as Bonnie faded from this world.

“Call a f*cking helicopter!” Cut didn’t seem to notice his orders fell on deaf ears. I’d never seen him so normal. So afraid and lost.

I paced back and forth, hugging my smarting arm, hoping no one heard his commands. An ambulance would be too slow…but a helicopter? That might be too fast.

Die faster, Bonnie. Faster.

And fate listened.

Life chose its victor.

Me.

Thump…thump-thump—thump.

Heartbeats failing.

Heartbeats ceasing.

Cut cradled his mother as she quickly lost the elderly crone persona and tumbled into an emaciated corpse.

My secrets dying with her.

My sins silencing with her.

However, Bonnie didn’t go quietly. She gave a parting gift, granting her final breath to me, sending me straight to damnation.

“She—” Bonnie gasped. “Dan—Dan—Daniel. She—”

Cut wiped her forehead, pushing away soaked strands of white hair. “Shush, save your strength. The doctors are coming.”

Bonnie spread her lips, lipstick staining her teeth. She knew as well as I did she wouldn’t be living another day. Gathering every last remaining strength, she raised her quaking arm, pointed her finger, and hissed, “She kil—killed hi—him.”

And that was it.

Last heartbeat.

Last breath.

Her eyes latched smugly onto mine, then closed forever.

I’d killed my second Hawk.

But she’d delivered me into terrible torture.

Her arm tumbled to her side, bouncing off her dead flesh, coming to rest awkwardly by her side.

For a moment, the room mourned its owner. Flower petals drooped and curtains twitched with a non-existent breeze.

Then Cut raised his head, eyes glittering with unshed tears, face swelling with unadulterated hatred. “You…”

I raised my scissors, backing away.

He didn’t move, hugging his dead mother, my second victim—stolen, not at my hand, but by the poltergeists of my ancestors.

“You killed Daniel.”

Two choices.

One future.

I was so sick of running. So sick of hiding. So sick of being weak.

I didn’t run.

I didn’t deny it.

Instead, I held my chin high and claimed all that I’d achieved.

I’d won; they’d lost. So be it if my life was now over.

“Yes. Yes, I killed him. I took his life, I disposed of his body, and I enjoyed every damn second of it.”

Cut gasped.

I smiled.

We didn’t move as the next battle was drawn.





NO ONE WANTED to listen to the story of the sinner. The bad guy. The villain.

No one truly cared about my agendas or goals.

No one could comprehend that my actions stemmed from a place of love, family, and commitment to those I cherished.

Did that make me a terrible person?