Third Debt (Indebted #4)(48)

“How did your family go from serving my ancestors to mining massive rocks?”

Jethro shook his head. “That piece of information will come with a price.”

“What price?”

Jethro pulled me into his body, his hardness instantly igniting my blood. “A debt, naturally.”

I winced. “Can we not mention those again? Not when it’s just us.”

His eyes fell on my lips. “When it’s just us, it’s even more dangerous to talk…about anything.” His head bowed; a lock of tinsel hair kissed his forehead. “I have something I need to ask.” He tensed. “Not ask…demand.”

“I prefer it if you just asked. You should know by now if you give into me, I’d do anything for you.”

He let me go. “I need you to watch what you feel around me.”

My mouth parted. “What?”

His eyes darted around the space, searching for help in silent corners. “I can’t explain it, but whatever you think of me, whatever you think of the way I’ve treated you since you came back, keep it to yourself. Don’t hate me. Don’t love me. Don’t fear me. Put up a wall and just stop.”

“You’re asking me to stop feeling?” I gasped. “That’s like asking someone to stop breathing, Jethro. It’s not possible.”

He dragged a hand over his face. “Things changed, Nila, and if you want to remain mine—you have to do this for me.”

Ice water replaced my blood. “Remain yours?” Drifting forward, I touched his forearm. “He threatened you, didn’t he?” My heart lurched, blooming bright with the love I’d tried to smother. Whatever Jethro was or did, he did care for me, and that was why he suffered. “What did he do?”

Jethro backed away, his face twisting. “Nothing. That’s one question I won’t answer. Just do as I ask and your existence will continue without hardship.”

I laughed softly. “You don’t get it. Having you distant from me is the worst hardship of all.” Taking his hand, I placed it over my heart. “You can’t see the scars you’re leaving on me but they’re there, Jethro. As surely as the scars on my back from your whip.”

“I can’t keep doing this,” he breathed, his shoulders caving.

“Can’t keep doing what?”

“I can’t keep doing this.” He pushed me away, holding up the dark stone. “A black diamond is completely different to a white one.”

I struggled to switch topics.

Why is he changing the subject?

“They have a different crystalline structure. They don’t sparkle because they don’t refract light.” His eyes glittered. “They absorb it.”

Where is he going with this?

“Like you? Absorbing Weaver lives.”

He didn’t answer, sadness darkening his face. “White diamonds are windows for light to bounce and reflect. Black diamonds are souls—sucking in everything, ingesting their environment and giving nothing in return.”

His voice bristled with depth—it wasn’t just about the stone. He’s trying to tell me something…

My hands twitched to grab him. My lips burned to connect with his.

Tell me!

He couldn’t look at me. He couldn’t even admit what he revealed. However, the diamond was no longer an innate object—but him.

He absorbed and ingested. He was a direct product of his surroundings.

“You’ve absorbed me…” I breathed.

My voice shattered Jethro’s confession, snapping him into ice. “Time to go.” Slipping the mysterious black diamond back into its home, he locked the safety deposit box and took my hand.

I never mentioned the stone again.

Not during the long drive home with Kes.

Not lying in bed that night.

Jethro had finally admitted the truth.

And I had no idea what it meant.





TWO DAYS PASSED.

Two days where I avoided Nila, took copious amount of drugs, and tried my utmost to swim back into numbing fog.

The meeting at Diamond Alley with Killian and Nila in an enclosed space had been sheer f*cking hell.

Both of them were so opinionated and strong willed. When Kill asked Nila if she loved me and Nila had fractured into pieces of grief, I’d almost snapped.

Almost.

She must’ve guessed what I was by now.

I couldn’t seem to keep it a secret.

I was at the point where if she asked me again, I would tell her. I would spill every sordid detail and bullshit diagnosis. I couldn’t hide it anymore.

The night after dropping her back at Hawksridge, Kestrel and I had dealt with a dispute with one of our traders on the black market. They wanted more stock for less money. We wanted more money for less stock. The age-old upsets between businesses.

The negotiations hadn’t gone smoothly.

The tension between both sides drained me of my rapidly dwindling energy, and by the time we returned home, I wanted nothing to do with people and fled.

I’d hidden until the moon rose and I could escape without consequence. I needed fresh air. And I needed it now.

I revved my bike down the long drive, heading away from Hawksridge. Turning right off the estate, I leaned into a corner, speeding up until inertia became an enemy trying to steal me from my vehicle.