First Debt (Indebted #2)(79)

I wanted him to fall in love with me.

Only then would he stand up to his family. Only then would he be so blindsided by affection, he wouldn’t see the knife when it went into his heart.

Gratefulness filled me. Kes had just reminded me of my goals. I had no time for bruised feelings or misunderstandings. I had to be as manipulative as they were and never waver.

You’re just as bad as them.

Good.

I never admitted I would die for them. I would eat their food, play with their toys, and f*ck their oldest son, but I wouldn’t die. If the Weaver Wailer collar couldn’t come off until my death, I planned to wear it until I died in my sleep at a very old age.

Kes and I walked in awkward silence, neither of us willing to go too deep. The Hall grew smaller behind us as we traversed the lawn, heading into the woods.

Silently, I offered him my packet of crisps. With a sideways glance, he took it.

A bird of prey swooped from a tree as we moved further into the forest.

Kes paused. “See that?” Slowly, so as not to spook the animal, he pointed to his bare forearm and the bird tattoo inked into his flesh. “See how similar they are?”

My heart beat faster. I peered into the foliage. The plumage of the bird glistened like fine auburn.

“That’s a kite—see him?”

Something twisted inside at the mention of Kite.

I narrowed my eyes. The raptor spread its wings, soaring away. Glancing at Kes’s tattoo, I said, “It didn’t match the bird on your arm.”

He nodded. “That’s because mine’s a kestrel. They’re from the same family, though.”

Everything went very still.

Was this it? The admission.

Nerves scattered over my spine as Kes looked at me with tension etching his jaw. “Same family, same genes, just a different name.”

I stopped breathing.

He stepped away, popping another crisp into his mouth.

Dammit.

Why didn’t he just come out and admit it? I didn’t want to have to prompt him, but I was done waiting for the truth.

Wiping my crumb-riddled fingers on my shorts, I asked, “Same family just a different name. Tell me, Kes, do you have another name, or was that a riddle I’m supposed to never figure out?”

He stopped, sucking in a breath. “If you’re asking if I have another name, I do.”

My knees wobbled, waiting.

Go on…

I waited. And waited. Tension thickened. Come on. Admit it. Admit that you’re Kite.

Admit that, until recently, you were the man I spoke to every night. The man I relied on for my sanity, even while you were cruel and unpredictable.

My heart bucked in sadness.

I’d been kidding myself. I would miss Kes. I would miss our affinity and dirty conversations. I would miss the strength he gave me and the sexual power that came from talking like a masturbating minx.

Suddenly, I didn’t want to give him up.

He was the missing link—the brother so different from Jethro. Maybe I could have them both—have a balance of nasty and sweet.

My eagerness to uncover the truth waned.

Taking a step back, I whispered half-heartedly, “What is it? Your other name?”

Kes shook his head. “I don’t want to tell. It sucks.”

Kite doesn’t suck.

It was rather…sexy. Not Falcon or Eagle or Vulture.

Kite.

A sharp bite of a name. Violent and dangerous, but also whimsical, with its fellow paper-bow-flying counterpart.

I shifted closer, placing my hand over his. “Tell me.”

He froze, his eyes filling with uncertainty.

“You can say it,” I whispered. “I know I ruined it, but it’s best if you tell me.”

His forehead furrowed. “Ruined what?”

Before I could reply, he licked his lips and asked, “Promise you’ll still like me after I tell you?”

My heart skipped, fluttering faster at the thought of finally knowing. I couldn’t hide the ugly truth anymore. The lies I’d spun disintegrated. It didn’t matter I was Jethro’s plaything; I wasn’t prepared to give Kes up. Not when faced with all my future held.

I wanted to keep him. I would play two games. One twisting Jethro around my finger and another evolving Kite’s and my conversations to something deeper.

I could have both.

I nodded. “Yes.”

He sighed, his large shoulders rising and falling. “Fine. It’s Angus.”

My world screeched to a halt. “What?”

He shifted, his body wary. “I know it’s not the greatest name in the world, but it’s my given name. People called me Gus as a kid, which I hated. Luckily as a Hawk, we’re given nicknames. I demanded everyone use mine from my eighth birthday onward.”

My mind wheeled.

Pieces slowly realigned, slotting unwillingly into place.

No. It couldn’t be.

Horror filled my heart.

Could Kestrel be using another name or could it be worse…

Could Kite be Daniel? That psychopathic fiend who would die at my hand the moment I had the opportunity.

Holding my chest, I demanded, “What’s—what’s Daniel’s nickname?”

Kes smiled. “He hates it. That’s why he sticks to his true name.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Can’t say I blame him, though.”