Page 4 of Third Debt


  Myself included.

  I hugged my knife, stroking it with the thought of spilling Cut’s blood. “He was the best. His death won’t go unpunished.”

  Flaw came closer, his boots silent on the emerald W carpet. “Words like that can get you into trouble.”

  I ran my thumb along the sharp blade. “I don’t care. All I want is for them to die.”

  He cleared his throat. “Can’t say I don’t understand or feel your pain, but it’s best to stop saying such things.” Inching closer to the bed, he held out his hand. “I was told to bring you.”

  My head snapped up. “What?”

  The last time someone had come to take me somewhere, the maid made me dress in breaches and cheesecloth, then delivered me to the worst poker night in history.

  I tightened my grip on the dirk. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  He scowled. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

  I moved away from him, inching to the other side of the bed. “Tell me why.”

  “Why?”

  My heart cantered faster—almost as fast as Moth, the day Kes took me for a ride. I should’ve been nice to him. Kinder. Less suspicious.

  I bared my teeth. “If this is to re-do the Third Debt, I’m not going. I’ll kill you first.” My threat wasn’t empty. I boiled with the urge to do it—to prove I was done being weak.

  Flaw jammed his hands in his back pockets. The action made him appear personable and less threatening.

  I didn’t buy it.

  He’d been there that first night when Jethro stole me from Milan. He’d witnessed what they’d done to me in the months I’d been there.

  “I haven’t been told anything. I guess you’ll just have to come and find out for yourself.”

  “Tell Cut he can come for me himself.”

  My eyes darted around the room. I had weapons here: needles, scissors, scalpels for sculpturing lace. If I could entice Cut into my nest, I could ambush him with tools I knew how to wield.

  He wouldn’t stand a chance.

  “Look—” He shrugged. “I was told not to tell you, but fuck it. They’re in the library. And they have guests. I doubt they’ll do anything of a…family matter…in front of an audience.”

  No, but they keep such blatant evidence.

  Their audacity at keeping mementos of my ancestors’ pain infuriated me. Once I’d killed them, I’d gather up every video and document and burn them. I’d demolish every evidence and set my ancestors’ souls free.

  Why not turn it into the police?

  I shuddered. The thought of men in suits—men who the Hawks might’ve paid to turn a blind eye for so long—watching video-tapes of my mother’s agony almost made me black out with a vicious vertigo wave.

  Gripping the sheets, I let the dizziness subside before blinking my vision clear.

  Flaw hadn’t moved; a relaxed employee who knew I’d have to obey eventually.

  “Why should I trust you? What’s to stop you from lying?” He might’ve been Kes’s friend, but he was still a Black Diamond. And they weren’t to be trusted.

  “Because I might be the last remaining friend you have in this godforsaken place.” His face tightened for a moment, filling with thoughts he refused to share. “You need more? Fine. I happen to know the guests are lawyers.” Holding out his hand, he said, “Happy? Now, let’s go.”

  “Lawyers?” I shook my head. “Why?”

  What on earth are lawyers doing here?

  Flaw gave half a smile. “Instead of all the questions, how about you just get it over with?”

  I didn’t want to move but I couldn’t deny he had logic on his side.

  With one last glower, I swung my legs off the bed and padded toward him. The room wobbled from getting up so fast, but other than that, my bloodlust for Cut’s life kept me focused on an anchor.

  Jethro is no longer my anchor.

  I was once again a shipwrecked boat, drifting on an ocean of misfortune.

  Flaw’s gaze fell to my knife. “You planning on taking that?”

  “Do you have a problem with that?”

  I waited for him to snatch it from me. To confiscate it. Instead, he pursed his lips. “I’m not the one on your shit list.”

  “Not at the moment, you aren’t.”

  He sucked in a breath.

  Rebellion and power siphoned through my blood. I didn’t trust Flaw, but he wasn’t my enemy. Holding eye contact, I hitched up the hem of my slouchy cardigan, tucked the dirk in my waistband, and concealed it.

  He didn’t say a word.

  I was playing with fire. He was on their side. He could tell them I had it and leave me defenceless, but at the same time, I had to push and search for allies. Flaw had been kind to me whenever we’d crossed paths. He’d escorted me to my room late at night if Daniel caught me sneaking to the kitchens. He’d been there whenever I’d popped in to see Kestrel, laughing and seeming normal and carefree.

  Anyone who was friends with Kes couldn’t be too bad—Kes wouldn’t tolerate it.

  And I learned that the hard way.

  He’s dead.

  Just like his brother.

  My heart panged. No matter how strong I forced myself to be, I couldn’t stop the lacerations of grief. It was like a rogue wave, lapping at my soul, tugging me under with its rip.

  Flaw crossed his arms, challenge sparking in his eyes. “You know the knife won’t be enough.”

  “I know.”

  He cocked his head. “Then why bother?”

  Running my hands through my hair, I twisted the black length to drape over my shoulder. “Because they won’t expect it. And the element of surprise can make a tiny knife become a sword.”

  He chuckled. “Deep. Sounds like Confucius or some other metaphorical bullshit.”

  I shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I know what I mean. I know what I’ll do.” My tone slid to ice. “And I suggest you stay out of my way and keep your mouth shut.”

  He laughed quietly. “Hey. As long as you stay away from me, I don’t have a problem. Always knew things would change. Ever since Kes told me what Jethro planned to do on his thirtieth, I knew my lifestyle was up.”

  I froze.

  He’ll never age another day.

  Jethro’s corpse would forever remain twenty-nine—immortal and unchanging.

  “What? What was he planning?”

  “He didn’t tell you?” He crossed his arms. “I thought you were deep as fucking thieves. That was the reason all of this grew out of control.”

  Breathing hard, I swallowed sadness. “No, he didn’t tell me.”

  Flaw softened. “Sorry.”

  I swiped at my face, dispelling any sign of tears. “So, what was he planning?”

  He’s dead. But he’s still here…holding me…guiding me.

  Learning more about Jethro, even though he was gone, was awfully bittersweet.

  Flaw looked behind him at the open door. His face shadowed, and for a moment, I thought he’d refuse to say, but then he lowered his voice. “Once everything was his, he planned on ripping up the contracts. Ending it.”

  My eyes grew wide. “Forever?”

  “Yup.”

  “He would have that power?”

  Flaw turned rigid, his thoughts obviously on topics he didn’t enjoy. “Of course. He was a Hawk. They made the contract. They had the power to absolve it. Jethro planned to split up the estate equally between his brothers and sister and ban Cut and Bonnie from the grounds.” He rubbed his chin. “I only know that because Kes told me in a couple of years they might not require the Club to transport shipments because the shipments would stop altogether.”

  “He didn’t want to smuggle anymore, either?” Wow. All this time I’d grown close to Jethro, yet we’d never shared our future together. Never lain in bed and murmured about what we wanted or dreamed.

  Because our future was bleak.

  Death for me. Heartache for him. Why focus on a fantasy when the real
ity threatened to destroy us?

  Flaw moved toward the door. “Would you continue doing something illegal when you had more money than you could ever spend in hundreds of lifetimes?” His eyes darkened with nostalgia for his friends. “With the estate broken up, everyone could’ve gone their separate ways. Kes planned to take a few years off and spend it in Africa injecting some of the money taken from its soil back to its people.” He sighed. “Like I said, a good man.”

  Placing his hand on the doorknob, he tilted his head. “Enough talking. They’ll be waiting. Better get you there before they suspect something.”

  The cold steel of the blade wedged against my back. It gave me courage but couldn’t stop my sudden tremble. “Will you give me your word you’re not taking me somewhere for those psychopaths to hurt me?”

  His jaw clenched. “I just told you insider information that could get me killed if you said anything. Doesn’t that deserve a little trust?”

  “It does if it was said out of understanding rather than manipulation. I’ve fallen for the kind act far more times than I’m comfortable with.”

  Flaw frowned. “Would it help to know I give you full permission to gut the next bastard who tries to hurt you?”

  My heart stuttered. “Permission? You think I need your permission?” Moving toward him, I stood close enough to smell his spicy aftershave and leather from his jacket. “Give me something better than your permission, Flaw.”

  He straightened. “Like what?”

  “Like freedom.” I waved at the window. “I could’ve run. I could’ve somehow found my way to the boundary and vanished, but they have my brother. Bring V to me and we’ll go. I’ll take my family and disappear.”

  And then I’ll come back and murder them in their sleep.

  His eyes burned into mine. “You know I can’t do that.”

  “So, all your talk of a better future and good men…that was what? Empty words?”

  He scowled. “There are things going on that you don’t know about.”

  I threw my hands up. “Oh, really? Funny, I’ve never heard that before.”

  Once again, thoughts flickered over his face, secrets shadowing his eyes.

  “If that’s true, tell me. What’s going on?”

  He looked away. “I can’t answer that.”

  I laughed morbidly. “No, of course, you can’t.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  My temper frayed, entirely unleashed. “That’s not fair?” I poked him in the chest. “What’s fair about me being subjected to more Hawk insanity? What’s fair about having the love of my life shot in front of me? What’s fair about waiting to die?!”

  His hands fisted.

  “You know what; I’m done.” Shaking my head, I brushed past him into the corridor. “Just take me to them like a good minion and get out of my sight.”

  He growled under his breath. “Don’t judge me. Don’t judge my actions based on what you can’t see.” Stomping in front of me, he said over his shoulder, “I know who I am, and I know what I do is right.”

  Animosity flared between us.

  I stayed silent, following him down the corridor toward the wing where I’d spent most time with Kestrel. We passed the room where he’d given me the Weaver Journal and headed into the hall where the library was located. My mind flickered back to the afternoon he’d found me, asking if Jethro had been to see me since completing the First Debt.

  At the time, his question wasn’t too unusual. But now it took on a whole new meaning. He wasn’t asking about me. He’d been asking about his brother—keen to know how absorbing my pain had affected his empathetic sibling.

  God, how bad had Jethro felt? How much did my thoughts destroy him?

  “In there.” Flaw stopped outside the library.

  So many memories were already stored in this place. So many breakthroughs and breakdowns as I grew from girl to woman.

  Not making eye contact, he muttered, “They’re waiting for you. Better get inside.” Without a goodbye, he turned on his heel and left.

  His retreating back upset me all over again. He was the last connection I had to Kestrel’s kindness and to Jethro’s ultimate plans.

  Come back.

  My soul scrunched tight as the ghosts of Jethro and Kes haunted the walls of their home. In twenty-four hours, I’d gone through the cycles of bereavement: disbelief, shock, despair, rage…I doubted I’d ever get through acceptance, but I embraced my anger, building a barrier that only clearheaded, cold-hearted fury could enter.

  I didn’t want any other emotion when facing Cut and Daniel.

  Touching the dagger hilt, I straightened my shoulders and pushed open the library doors.

  My eyes widened as I stepped into the old world charm of book-bindings and scripted letters. The large beanbags where Kes had found me dozing still scattered. The window seats waited for morning sunshine and a bookworm to absorb themselves in fairy-tale pages.

  This place was a church of stories and imagination. But then my gaze fell on the antichrist, polluting the sanctity of peace.

  “Nice of you to join us, Nila.” Cut waved at the one and only empty chair at the large oak table.

  My teeth clamped together. I didn’t reply.

  “Come.” He snapped his fingers. “Sit. We’ve waited long enough.”

  You can do this.

  Obey until an opportunity presents itself.

  Then…

  kill

  him.

  I drifted forward, drawn by the multiple pairs of eyes watching me.

  Bonnie, Daniel, Jasmine, Cut, and four men I didn’t recognise waited for me to join them. The four men wore sombre black suits and aubergine ties—a uniform painting them with the same brush.

  I drew closer to the table.

  Daniel stood up, wrapping a vile arm around my waist. “Missed you, Weaver.” Planting a kiss on my cheek, he whispered, “Whatever happens here tonight doesn’t mean shit, you hear me? I’m coming for you, and I don’t fucking care what they say.”

  I shuddered with disgust.

  Withdrawing the hate from his voice, Daniel transformed into a cordial smile. “Sit.” With a gallant act, he pulled out the empty seat. “Take a load off. This is going to be a long meeting.”

  I wanted to touch his pulse, count his heartbeat, relish in knowing they were numbered.

  Soon, Daniel…soon…

  Locking my jaw, so I didn’t say anything I might regret, I sat down.

  The men in matching suits never looked away. They ranged in age from sixties with greying hair to mid-thirties with blond buzz cut.

  Daniel kicked my chair forward so my stomach kissed the lip of the table. I sucked in a breath, straightening my spine uncomfortably in order to tolerate the tight arrangement.

  His golden eyes met mine, smug and vainglorious.

  I’ll cut that look right off your face.

  My fingers twitched for my knife.

  Daniel sat beside me, while the person on my other side hissed, “No speaking unless spoken to. Got it?”

  My eyes shot to Jasmine. Her hands rested on the table, a cute gold ring circling her middle finger, while her seat perched on a small ramp, bringing the wheels in line with the chairs of the other guests. She looked like a capable heiress, dressed in a black smock with a black ribbon around her throat. She was the epitome of a mourning sister.

  I don’t buy it.

  I’d misjudged her—thought she was decent and caring. She’d fooled me the most.

  Tearing my gaze from her, I glanced at the remaining Hawks. Just like Jasmine, they all wore black. Bonnie looked as if she’d jumped into a jungle of black lace and fastened it with glittering diamond broaches. Cut wore an immaculate suit with black shirt and tie. Even Daniel looked fit for the opera in a glossy onyx ensemble and satin waistcoat.

  I’d never seen so much darkness—both on the outside and inside. They’d discarded their leather jackets in favour of mourning attire.

  All fo
r what?

  To garner sympathy from outsiders? To play the part of grieving family, even though they were the cause of murder?

  I hate you.

  I hate all of you.

  My hands balled on the table. I wanted to say so many things. I wanted to launch onto the table and stab them with my knife. But I heeded Jasmine’s warning and stayed put. There was no other way.

  Cut cleared his throat. “Now that we’re all here, you may begin, Marshall.” His gaze pinned the oldest stranger. “I appreciate you coming after work hours, but this matter has to be dealt with quickly.”

  Bonnie reclined in her chair, a faint smile on her lips.

  Every time I looked at the old bat, I got the feeling she was the meddler in all of this. She was the reason Cut was the way he was. She was the reason why Jasmine was disabled and Jethro and Kes were dead. I guessed she was also the reason why Jethro never mentioned his mother.

  I’d been in their lives for months, yet no one had uttered a thing about Mrs. Cut Hawk.

  Unless it was a miracle conception and Cut carved his children from his bones like some evil sorcerer, she had to have existed and stuck around long enough to give Cut four babies.

  Where is she now?

  Images of Jethro and Kes reuniting with their mother in heaven gave me equal measure of despair and comfort.

  If she’s even dead.

  She could be trapped in the house, on a floor I didn’t know, in a room hidden from view. She might be alive and not know that her husband killed two of her sons.

  God, what a tragic—

  The stranger coughed, stealing my attention. “Thank you, Bryan.” Meticulously, he aligned a wayward fountain pen beside his tan ledger before looking at his colleagues. “I’ll start, gentlemen.”

  His grey eyes locked on me, gluing me into my chair. “You must be Ms. Weaver. We haven’t had the pleasure of meeting up till now.”

  My back bristled.

  Any man who’d studied the law and permitted the Hawks to continue to get away with what they did wasn’t someone I wanted to speak with.

  Daniel nudged me. “Say hello, Nila.”

  I clamped my lips together.

  “You don’t want to be rude.” He snickered. “These guys have met all the Weavers. Isn’t that right, Marshall?”