Fourth Debt (Indebted #5)(34)

“I’ll be okay once we get them out of here. Right, hand me the wand.”

A pause.

“Good. Take me closer.”

A few seconds later, the hissing began. I wanted to raise my head and see. But all I could do was bask in the meagre happiness the sound gave and slip again.

The brightness suddenly flared, cutting past my eyelids, imprinting on my retinas. No talking, no bickering, only the licking of flames against whatever enemy it destroyed.

Time skipped again—like a faulty record, jumping ahead, screeching backward, never playing the track in order.

“You’re almost there,” the man said.

Almost on cue, a snapping sounded, followed by a skeletonish groan.

“Ah, see. How little you trust me.”

More shuffling. “I take it back. You’re a girl, and you know how to use power tools.”

“Damn right, I do.”

Silence fell except for the occasional footfall and clang of metal on metal.

I sighed as the tempers eddying around me faded as companionship and victory stole their frustration. Inner peace settled, and I gave up trying to hold on.

The excitement disappeared, giving me a body that was cold, hungry, and riddled with pain.

I’m ready to go now. I’m ready to leave.

But then another sense came back to life.

The sense of touch.

“Kite…can you hear me?”

The softest warmth flittered over my cheek and forehead.

I wanted to moan with sheer pleasure. To answer their question and prove I hadn’t given up, no matter how much I craved sanctuary.

“You’re okay. You’ll be fine.” Warmth darted over my chest, my arm.

Then the sweetest voice whispered in my ear. “I’ve got you, Jet. You’re safe now. Just hang on.”





“SHE’S IN THE bath.”

“She’s not feeling well and can’t come to the door.”

“I have her chair—see? Of course, she’s in here with me.”

“She’s in bed. We had a sleepover and can’t get up.”

I groaned, wiping both hands over my face.

“Nothing will work.”

The empty room swallowed my words, keeping my fibs from reaching Hawk ears.

Ever since leaving Jasmine and Vaughn in the corridor leading toward the kitchens, I’d practiced a believable lie. Only thing was, there was nothing believable. After the visible hatred between Jaz and me at the meeting with the lawyers? no one would buy the excuse of a sleepover or girl chat or time willingly spent together.

It’s hopeless.

The best I could hope for was no visitors and for V and Jaz to get back as soon as possible.

My mind skipped back to last night.

My spine had tingled with foreboding as V bent down in the dark and hesitantly plucked Jasmine from her chair. I’d never seen her legs in full view without baggy pyjamas or a blanket hiding the emaciated muscles but seeing them dangle over V’s arms hit me hard.

Once upon a time, she could run and ride horses and chase her brothers.

Now, she had to rely on the brother of her enemy to be her transport.

A brutal price to pay for a payment I didn’t know.

The look in V’s eyes as he’d turned his back on me and left me in the empty corridor with an empty wheelchair squeezed my heart until I couldn’t breathe. Helping a Hawk went against everything he believed in. In his mind, he betrayed his stance on blackmailing with social media, slandering the Hawk name, and standing up for our mother and me.

Yet, here he was, abandoning his sister in order to help another save her brothers.

It wasn’t easy, but he showed me more loyalty and strength than I’d ever seen. Gone was the cocky joker who summoned women with one smirk. Gone was the slight player who’d worked hard but somehow managed to indulge in life with a silver spoon.

As he disappeared with a black-dressed Jaz in his arms, he grew from boy to man, and I’d wanted to run after him and thank him for saving Jethro—for once again putting my happiness above his own and doing what I bade.

It’d taken all my control not to follow. To clutch the handles of Jasmine’s chair and wheel it in the opposite direction.

They’re coming for you, Jethro.

They’ll save you.

It killed me that I wouldn’t be there. That I wouldn’t be the one coaxing him to liveliness, rescuing him from pain. But, at the same time, that right belonged to Jaz. Jethro had sacrificed his life to save hers—it was only fair she did the same.

Then again, she’d dragged my brother into her plotting. There was no telling her plans—whatever they were—would be executed without a hitch. No saying they would be safe.

If Cut found out, Jaz would be punished, Jethro and Kes killed for real, and Vaughn repeatedly beaten. I had no doubt they would destroy him until he begged for death.

And all for what? For the unfortunate curse of being my blood.

Stop thinking about it.

I glared at the wheelchair, lurking in the shadows by the door. It looked so sad, so empty without its owner. The metal machine grieved for its occupant, no longer wanting to provide a purpose without her.

Dawn lurked on the horizon.

Pink swirls and purple splashes slowly pushed aside midnight black.

For the fiftieth time, I looked at the clock.