Third Debt (Indebted #4)(101)

“You did so well, wife.”

I swayed into my husband’s arms. Jethro’s hair caught the lights, making him seem like some fantasy knight come to life. We’d eloped two weeks ago. We’d barely left the bedroom since.

My * clenched just thinking about what we would do when we returned home after the show.

Something cold and sticky splashed against my silver ball gown. Time turned to slow motion as I looked down in horror.

Blood.

Gallons upon gallons of blood.

It stained my bodice, train, hands…everything.

The audience below no longer watched the show but looked up at us. At me specifically. “What?” I screeched. “What did I ever do to you?”

Then, I heard the most dreadful sound in the world. The symphony of dying. The excruciating noise of ending life.

“Get up, you filthy f*cking whore!”

My eyes wrenched open. My heart lurched into my mouth. Warmth and cocooned-safety was traded for biting fingers and hard floor as Cut wrenched me out of bed and threw me across the room.

“Wh—no!” I landed on my wrist, screaming in agony.

“What the—” Jethro's sleepy voice rang out but was sliced short by a punch to his face.

“You motherf*cking backstabbing son of a f*cking bitch.” Cut rammed his fist into Jethro’s jaw again, drawing blood, crunching cheekbones. “Get up.” He tore off the sheets, jerking him from his bed.

Jethro groaned, falling into a pile of limbs at his father’s feet.

“No, wait!” I crawled forward, flinching at my wrist.

Daniel appeared, blocking me with his hands on his hips. “Ah, ah, ah, little Weaver. You can no longer interfere with family matters.”

Through the barricade of his legs, I watched Cut kick Jethro repeatedly in the stomach, screaming obscenities, puce with fury. “Did I not give you every f*cking chance? Did I not respect you and trust in you as my f*cking son!” He kicked him again. “Goddammit, you leave me no choice!”

This can’t be real.

It had to be a dream…a nightmare.

Please, don’t let this be real.

Cut turned his back on Jethro, storming toward me with throbbing anger. “And you! You’re done meddling with my f*cking family, girl. You’re through. Both of you!”

Grabbing my hair, he jerked me to my feet.

He strength was insane—no residue of the drugs Jethro had used. No hint that he’d been unnaturally asleep for hours. He was a demon.

I screamed, dangling in his enraged hold. My bare legs showed the faint whip marks from Jethro’s attentions, and his t-shirt I’d slipped on when I went to the bathroom barely covered my black knickers. “Let me go!”

“You and him—you’ve f*cked me over for the last time.” Cut breathed hard, his face gleaming with sweat. “Did he think I wouldn’t notice? That I would let you get away with this shit!”

I fought his hold, willing tears to hide. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! Stop hurting me. Let me go!”

Daniel cackled. “You know exactly what we’re talking about, bitch.” He marched over to his brother, scooping the bloody body of Jethro into his arms. Jethro moaned, his eyes squeezed and blood rivering from his mouth. He tried to fight Daniel off, but the vicious attack before left him half dead.

“I don’t! Leave him alone.”

“Yes, you f*cking do,” Cut snarled. “I just witnessed the so-called video of you paying the Third Debt. Kestrel thought I’d buy his bullshit doctored video?!” His eyes turned deathly cold. “Two of my sons. Both of them betraying me. But it’s the last time. The last f*cking time they make a mockery out of me.”

Dragging me from Jethro’s room, he didn’t stop or care that I crawled and stumbled beside him. His fingers noosed in my hair, leaving me no choice but to fumble in agony.

I couldn’t see Jethro, but Daniel’s footfalls vibrated the carpet behind me.

“Please!” I scratched Cut’s hands over and over, but he didn’t flinch. Too amped on fury to feel a thing. “Please, let us go!”

“Oh, I’ll let you go alright. I’ll f*cking let you go to Hades.”

Hawksridge Hall covered acres of land with twining halls and cavernous rooms, but it seemed like a postage stamp with how fast we left the bachelor wing and burst into the day parlour with its swan-silk loveseats and ornamental music boxes.

The moment we exploded through the doors, Cut threw me forward. I fell with vertigo and inertia, slamming to the floor. I crawled away as fast as I could. Daniel mimicked his father, tossing Jethro to his knees, kicking him violently in the gut.

Jethro coughed loudly, air refusing to filter into his lungs. He fell to his side, gasping, bleeding.

I scrambled toward him, but Daniel stepped in front of me. “Look behind you, whore.”

I glowered. I wanted heaven to smite him into stone. “Leave him alone!”

He chuckled. “You sure about that?” Leaning over me, he yanked me to my feet, twisting my head to look behind me. “You sure you choose him?”

I fought in his hold. I worked up saliva to spit in his face. But then I set eyes upon my undoing.

The past twenty-four hours, disappeared.

The love I’d found, vanished.