Fourth Debt (Indebted #5)(9)

Once I’d shed a final tear and drugged myself on his subtle flavour of woods and leather, I hauled myself out of bed and into the shower. Stepping into the hot spray felt like a betrayal to Jethro—as if I washed away the past, moving into a future without him.

I thought I’d cried my final tear, but beneath the waterfall, I purged again, letting my tears swirl down the drain.

I will kill them.

And I will dance on their graves when I do.



Dawn morphed to morning, one hour blending into another, drifting me further from Jethro’s memory.

I tried to leave. My body was weak, needing fuel, mimicking my aching heart with emptiness. But the doorknob refused to spin.

They’d locked me inside.

Could I break it down? Destroy it? But why should I waste my fury on an innocent door when Cut and Daniel deserved to be torn into smithereens?

So, I did the only thing I could. I sat on my chaise and gripped my cell-phone with chilly fingers, begging for a miracle to happen.

Text me, Jethro.

Prove it’s all a big mistake.

Over and over, I repeated my prayer, only for the stubborn phone never to answer. It remained blank and unfeeling, the battery slowly dwindling. The battle to keep going drained me to the point of exhaustion.

I could call for help. I could ring the police chief who’d taken me back after the Second Debt. But they’d wiped my file when I did the Vanity Fair interview. I’d cried wolf and they wouldn’t believe me—especially as most of them were bought by Cut.

Plus, I can’t leave Vaughn. I couldn’t risk giving them ammunition to hurt him.

Indulging in the past, rather than dwelling on a desolate future, I opened every text he’d sent, reliving the rush and sexual frustration of forbidden whispers.

Kite007: Me and my wandering hand missed you.

The intoxicating innocence when I didn’t know it was him.

Kite007: If I said I wanted one night of blatant honesty, no douche-baggery, no bullshit of any kind, what would you say?

The first crack in his cool exterior, revealing just how deep he ran.

Kite007: I feel what you feel. Whether it be a kiss or a kick or a killing blow. I wished I didn’t, but you’re mine. Therefore, you are my affliction.

The first taste of truth when he told me his condition in riddles.

Kite007: Don’t go into the dark alone, little Weaver. Monsters roam the shadows, and your time is officially up.

The last darkness inside him that’d vanished entirely the night we revealed everything.

All of it.

Every letter and comma were still tangible, while the author had now vanished. I would’ve given anything for him to reappear—to magically reverse tragedy and come back to me.

Jethro…

Hunching over my phone, I let go again.

Wracking sobs, heaving ribs, and a dying soul screaming that nothing would ever be the same.

He’s dead.

He’s…

dead.



At lunchtime, Flaw appeared.

My only visitor and I didn’t know if he was friend or foe.

For the past while, I’d stared into space, picturing gruesome ways to end it.

I couldn’t cry anymore.

I couldn’t read Kite’s texts anymore.

All I could do was exist in a room where scents of love mixed with smells of war, settling deeper into hate.

Flaw didn’t speak, only delivered a meal of salad and cured ham. With sad eyes, he retreated from my room and locked the door.

It’d taken over an hour before I had the energy to move from my crumpled, soggy ball. Along with the agony of grief, I’d surpassed the craving of hunger, leaving me blissfully blank of basic necessities.

I shivered, but I wasn’t cold.

My stomach growled, but I wasn’t hungry.

My heart kept beating, but I was no longer alive.

I wasn’t human. I was a killer waiting for first blood.

Blood.

The thought of extracting hot, sticky red from Cut and Daniel kick-started my energy. My hand curled around my blade as I crawled across the carpet and poked the food.

Eat.

Stay strong.

Kill.

The ham settled like salty concrete on my tongue. Every mouthful wasn’t about nutrition or satisfaction—it was about building power so I was ready for war.

Minute by minute, my anger solidified. The Hawks had been untouchable for long enough. They believed no amount of treason or rebellion could dethrone them.

They were wrong.

Their reign was over. It was time for a new ruler. One who stood for justice rather than debts. One who would avenge those she’d lost.

They’ve underestimated me.

And they would die because of it.



Dusk crept silently across my carpet.

The tentative darkness sucked the light from glittering sequins, sinking into rich velvet from the fabric bolts on the walls. Every minute its gloomy fingers made their way stealthily from window to bed, reminding me that my world might’ve ended yesterday, but the rest of the globe didn’t care.

The sun still rose.

The moon still set.

And my heart still beat regardless.

My ears pricked as the harsh scrape of a key echoed from the opposite side of the room. I sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes, grabbing my dirk from the covers.

The door swung open.