Fourth Debt (Indebted #5)(8)

She sat taller. Locking eyes with me, she said icily, “I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” Raising her voice, she pointed at the door. “Your fate will be discussed and decreed. Go to your room. Leave us.”

I rubbed my wrist, smearing the blood she’d conjured. When I didn’t move, she herded me with silver wheels toward the exit.

“I said leave.” She didn’t stop, pushing me between Cut and Bonnie.

My skin crawled as Cut reached out, gathering me to him. He brushed aside black hair that’d stuck to my clammy cheeks. His golden eyes shone with power. “I’m afraid our timeframe has accelerated since you’ve arrived. Emma was in my control for a delightful length of time. I’d hoped Jethro could manage the same. But…I raised lacklustre sons and have to hope my daughter can do better.”

Jasmine nudged against the back of my thighs. “Let her go, father. She has to be trained in obedience.” Her legs remained covered with a rose-coloured blanket, but temper flared her cheeks. “That was her issue with Jet. She never listened. I’ll teach her otherwise.”

How did I judge someone so wrong? All this time, I thought Jasmine was half-way sane—a crutch for her brother and stronger than all of them combined. But she was just as diabolical.

“If anyone can do it, it’s you, Jasmine.” Cut released me. “I have no doubt.”

Bonnie smiled, leaning on her stick. “Jasmine is an exemplary student. She’ll rise to the challenge.”

“You never have to doubt, father.” Jasmine’s frosty voice sent goosebumps over my skin. “I’m ten times the man my brothers were.”

Who was this person? This cold-hearted harpy who didn’t care. How could she sit there and speak to the man who’d killed her brothers, let alone agree to torture me.

He’s dead.

He’s dead.

He’s free from this insanity.

I couldn’t control the frothing animosity any longer. My lips pulled back. “You’re all monsters. Every single one of you. You’ll all pay.”

Cut sighed, “You were told to leave, Ms. Weaver. I suggest you listen.”

Bonnie swatted the back of my calves with her stick. “Move, you little guttersnipe.”

“Wait, grandmamma.” Jasmine wheeled herself in front of me with a few expert manoeuvres. “I have something else I want to say.”

The room sucked in a breath, all of us waiting.

Her gaze fell on mine, dead and empty. “You, Nila Weaver, are the reason my best friend is dead. You are the reason I am now sister to only one brother. And you are the reason my family is falling apart.” Her face darkened, manicured eyebrows shadowing angry eyes. “I asked you once to let the debts take place. I asked you to give your life for him—like it has always been. But you didn’t listen.”

Rolling away, she waved at the door. “Go to your room and think about that. Because this time, I’m not giving you a choice.

“This time, I’ll make you pay.”





I WOULD NEVER sleep again.

Not while Daniel roamed the corridors and Cut held my life in his hands. I would never relax while they breathed. I would never drop my guard while they plotted my demise.

But while they plotted, I plotted.

Together, we would meet in hell, and I was past caring who would win. As long as I exterminated them, I would happily trade my life for justice.

Twelve hours passed.

Twelve hours where my heart bled for Jethro and every minute erased his imprint on this world.

Twelve hours where I’d been alone.

I hadn’t seen anyone but Flaw. He’d knocked on my door around 9:00 p.m., bringing venison stew and crusty baguettes. He’d looked as bad as I did—his piercing eyes fogged with stress, his dark hair a turbulent mess. He was a direct mirror of grey disbelief and desolation. I’d wanted him to stay—to protect me if Daniel decided to pay a nocturnal visit, but the moment he’d delivered my dinner, he left.

Food was ash inside my mouth, but I forced small bites, painstakingly swallowing and providing energy to the only weapon I could rely on. Once I’d eaten every morsel, I’d sat cross-legged in the centre of my bed and tightened my grip around the ruby-encrusted dirk.

I couldn’t lie down because Jethro's smell laced my sheets.

I couldn’t close my eyes because his handsome face and blazing love haunted me.

And I couldn’t relax because I needed to be ready to attack if any Hawk came for me.

Only, they never came.

Daybreak brought a smidgen of peace, illuminating Hawksridge—yet again, hiding the filthy evil that seemed so obvious at night.

My cheeks itched from the salt of my sadness, and my head ached from dehydration.

For one heart-ripping moment, I permitted myself to fall face first on the bedding where Jethro had told me everything. I allowed grief to grab me with thick arms and smother me in terrible tears.

I relived his touch and kisses. I punished myself with memories of him slipping inside me, of him saying he loved me for the first time. I came completely undone as I hugged my knife and inhaled the last reminders I would ever have of him.

I had no photographs, no love letters.

Only a few texts and recollections.

They weren’t worth any monetary value, but in a blink, they became my most prized possessions.