Third Debt (Indebted #4)(65)

We had to be smarter

We had to be shrewd.

The time had come.

Hawks against Hawks.

Cut finished securing his cuffs. “Tonight, Jet. I want it done.”

My body seized. What?

No way.

Every f*cking time.

He’d guessed I was breaking and came at the perfect moment with his proverbial hammer to smash me into pieces.

“Not tonight.” I clutched my phone. I had a hair-brained concept, but it was still in its infancy. It can’t happen tonight. I’m not ready.

“Yes, tonight. I want this whole process sped up.” He dropped his hands stiffly by his sides. “Those pills are working. You’ve impressed me more the past few weeks than you have in your entire life. You’ve killed to protect our family. You’ve remained distant from those you don’t need, and you’ve cut that Weaver Whore out of your heart.”

He came forward and patted my shoulder, harsh respect glowing in his eyes. “I don’t want anything to jeopardise the new connection we’ve found, son. And she’s the cause of it all. Let’s get the Debt Inheritance over with. Complete your final test and take your place fully by my side.” His voice dropped. “When the time comes, I’ll gladly hand over the crown because you’ve earned it.”

Despite my hatred for him, relief slithered around my heart. Relief because I’d finally been worthy of the gift I’d been fighting to receive for twenty-nine years.

Pity, it was just empty words.

“I’m proud of you, Kite.”

I bowed my head, squeezing my phone until the casing cracked.

I would have to be ready…there was no other way.

“Now, tell the lady’s maid to prepare the girl. Tonight, we inch closer to the finish line.” His teeth glinted with an evil smile. “Tonight, the Third Debt will be paid.”





I FOUND TEX in the lounge, nursing a brandy and looking as if he hadn’t showered in days. He didn’t look up as I perched on the arm of his favourite chair.

Something had changed between us. We no longer had a close bond—it was taut, strained—full of accusations and denials.

I missed him.

I feared for him.

But I didn’t have the strength to bring up what I truly wanted to know. So, I sat there, rubbing his forearm with my tattooed fingertips, hoping he knew that I forgave him. He might be my elder, but he wasn’t faultless. He needed to let his guilt go before it killed him.

Without looking into my eyes, he spoke. His voice was cracked and brittle, his brandy glass long since dry.

“She told me to hide you.”

I knew instantly he spoke of my mother.

“I had plans. I’d booked flights for all of us. I had a whole new life arranged in America. There was no way I was going to let those bastards have two of my girls. I would’ve died to protect you, Threads. You have to believe me.”

My father’s head bowed as the weight of wrong decisions pushed him deeper into his chair.

“The night before we were due to leave, I had a visitor. He showed me…things—” He swallowed hard, squeezing his eyes as if he couldn’t bear to remember. “He made me believe that no matter where I took you, no matter how well I hid you, they would find you. And if they did, the debts would be twice the repayment. Twice the pain. He made me a promise that if I let his firstborn take you easily, that you would be given a good life. A life that might go on for years.”

A tear rolled down his cheek. He clutched my hand so hard blood ceased to flow. “By God, I believed him, Nila. He had too much…too many things to prove he spoke the truth. I couldn’t refuse. I couldn’t subject you to that. The things they’ve done—”

Taking a deep breath, he stuttered, “So I cancelled our new life and remained, knowing that one day you would be taken from me.” A horrible sob escaped him. “I’m so sorry, little one. I only did what I hoped was right. I chose the lesser evil, do you see? I chose the one with a longer timeframe so I could get you free.”

He looked up, his black eyes watering and bloodshot. “I couldn’t save your mother, but I’m going to save you. I will. I swear it.”

His confession wrenched silent tears of my own. I kissed the top of his head, granting absolution. “I trust you, Dad.”

He collapsed in on himself. I didn’t have the strength to ask him what I desperately wanted to know.

Where did he think my mother was buried all this time?

And what did Cut show him to leave his wife in the hands of monsters?

“Miss?”

The dream shattered.

Not that it was a dream, but a memory. The one time Tex spoke honestly while I’d been back home. He’d then wiped it from his history by drinking so much, he didn’t remember the next morning.

“You awake, Miss?”

I stretched, wincing at the crick in my spine. “Yes. Yes, I’m awake.”

How long did I nap for?

My phone rested on the floor and a damp patch where I’d drooled on the silk loveseat hinted at a while.

I shivered, rubbing my arms to ward off the chill. The archaic central heating in this place was intermittent at best. Scrambling to my feet, I eyed up the marble fireplace. Cold ash and black soot looked back. I’d set it last night, but I sucked at making a decent heat-delivering flame.