Fourth Debt (Indebted #5)(57)

But what?

Was this her attempt at ripping out my secrets?

She’ll never have them.

My heart thundered faster. My blood thickened in my veins.

The chair wasn’t smooth or well-padded with velour or satin. It didn’t welcome a comfortable reprieve. In fact, the design mocked the very idea of luxury.

Every inch was covered in tiny spikes and nails, hammered through the wood. Seat, backrest, armrest, leg rest. Each point glittered in the late afternoon sunshine. Every needle wickedly sharp, just waiting to puncture flesh.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to hide my terror. Jasmine was right. Their satisfaction came from my reactions. I was stronger than this—than them.

I won’t let you get pleasure from my pain.

“Do you know why you’re paying this toll, Nila?”

My eyes flew to Cut. He stood with his hands by his sides, his leather jacket soaking up the dwindling sun.

I shook my head. The power of voice deserted me.

All my courage at killing them vanished like a traitor.

“It’s because you must be stripped of your nasty plots and wishes to harm us. It’s because you caused the death of two Hawk men.” Bonnie shuffled closer, rapping her cane against the horrific chair. “Along with the repayment of the Third Debt, you must endure a few extras—to ensure you are properly aware of your place within our home.”

I flinched as Bonnie closed the gap and stroked her swollen fingers along my diamond collar. “You’ve lived in our hospitality for six months. The least you can do is show a bit of gratitude.” Grabbing a chunk of my long hair, she shoved me toward the barbaric contraption. “Now sit and be thankful.”

Jasmine positioned herself beside me, holding out a hand to help me lower onto the spikes. I thanked my foresight for wearing jeans. The thick denim would protect me to a degree.

Trembling a little, I turned around to sit.

Unfortunately, Cut must’ve read my mind. “Ah, ah, Nila. Not so fast.” Gripping my elbow, he hoisted me back up. “That would be far too easy.”

My heart stopped.

Laughing, he tugged at my waistband. “Clothing off.”

Jasmine said, “Father, the spikes will hurt enough—”

“Not nearly enough.” His glare was enough to incinerate her.

Sighing, Jaz faced me. “Take them off.” Holding out her arm like a temporary hanger, she narrowed her eyes. “Quickly.”

Gritting my teeth, I fumbled with the hem of my jumper. I should be comfortable being naked around these people—it’d happened often enough—but being asked to strip brought furious, degrading tears to my eyes.

Breathing hard, I yanked my jumper off and undid my jeans. Shimmying them down my legs, I shivered at the biting air. The dining room had a fire roaring in the imposing fireplace, but the flames hadn’t extinguished the wintery chill.

A resounding thud landed behind me.

Oh, no!

Cut’s eyes dropped to the ruby encrusted dirk lying in full view.

I wanted to curl up and die. I’d become so used to it wedged against my back, I forgot the knife was there.

Cut gave me a sly smile, bending to pick it up.

Quick!

Squatting, I scooped up the blade before he had chance. His eyes widened as I brandished it in his face. “Don’t touch me.”

He chuckled. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Nila.”

My mouth watered at the thought of somehow stabbing everyone in the heart all at once.

Jabbing the air between Cut and me, I snarled, “I should’ve done this months ago. I should’ve murdered you the moment I met you.”

His body stiffened. “Just try it.” His eyes flickered behind me. “You have two choices. Try and attack me and pay. Or hand over the knife and pay.”

“I’d rather kill you and win.”

“Yes, well, that will never happen.” Snapping his fingers, he ordered, “Colour, take the knife.”

I whirled around but was too late. Colour, a Black Diamond brother who I’d seen once or twice, yanked the dirk from my hand like a rattle from a baby. My fingers throbbed with emptiness as Colour handed the blade to Cut.

My fight evaporated.

I’d tried.

My one rebellion was over, and what was my reward?

Pain and humiliation.

“Thank you, Colour.”

Colour nodded, retreating back to his hidey-hole by the fireplace. The large rococo style fire-surround hid most of him from view, giving the illusion of privacy.

Cut waved the blade in my face. “Rather interesting piece of equipment to have down your jeans, Nila.” Running the sharp edge over my collar, his face darkened. “Not only are you a troublemaker, but you’re also a thief.”

Placing the dirk down his own waistband, he smiled evilly. “I’ll remember that for future payments.”

Standing in a black bra and knickers, I squeezed my eyes. Nothing was going as I’d planned. Where was my courage—the belief that I would plunge that blade into his heart the moment I had the chance?

My chance was gone.

“Get rid of the bra,” Cut said. “Unless you want me to use the knife to help you.”

My hands flew between my shoulder blades, grabbing the clasp.

Bonnie coughed. “No, I think not. Keep your undergarments on.”