Final Debt

by Pepper Winters

  I was a demon’s son.

  The demon’s son.

  Wrought in fire and moulded by sins. My blood forged with terror; my body formed from mistakes and wrong turns. Debts. Contracts. Vengeance.

  And no matter how I raged to be free, to end my predetermined inevitability, I couldn’t find a way to triumph.

  Nila had fixed me.

  She’d helped me escape my purgatory.

  She’d been the nebula of perfection. The freedom of flying with no wings. Granting wind to a kite with untethered strings.

  I’d soared. I’d rejoiced.

  And now, I’d fallen.

  Whatever Cut would do, whatever he would make me witness and Nila endure, I wouldn’t walk away intact.

  I would breathe, but I would die.

  I would blink, but I would be soulless.

  I would vanish inside.

  My heart would split open, veins slashing bloody substance all over a life I no longer wanted.

  I knew what hell was.

  As I fought the rope and begged for salvation.

  As I blinked back tears and resigned myself to living the worst day of my life.

  I knew what hell was.

  I knew…

  Because I was there.

  “THE BEST WAY to tell the full story is to start at the very beginning.”

  Cut left me standing in the middle of the cave, pacing around me pompously. His nose elevated with smugness, arms crossed with self-confidence. Each footstep, he slipped into the history lesson that Jethro ought to deliver. I preferred Jethro’s eloquence. His raspy, delicious voice. His melodic accent. His love pouring through every syllable.

  But Jethro was gagged, and I had no choice but to hover where I’d been placed and listen.

  “You’ve read the Debt Inheritance,” Cut said, “You understand Frank Hawk was whipped for stealing, which you repaid in the First Debt. You know his daughter was killed for witchcraft, which you repaid in the Second Debt. You know Bennett Hawk was sodomized, which I still don’t believe you paid with Daniel for the Third Debt, and you understand the mother did anything necessary to keep her family alive. That particular sacrifice was touched on at Hawksridge but will be fully repaid while you’re here.”

  I balled my hands, trying to stop my mind racing with scenarios of what he would make me do.

  Cut spun around, pointing a finger like a professor teaching a vital lesson. “Here’s where it gets complicated, Nila, so pay attention. Bennett Hawk despised what the Weavers did to his family. He ached constantly from the rape and time moved forward where daily atrocities were delivered. As much as he hated it, his family continued to work for the Weavers. Indebted to them with unpayable taxes and outstanding warrants. They could never leave the Weaver’s employ, thanks to a bribed police officer.

  “More years passed where no hope of being saved seemed possible. Until Mabel Hawk, the mother who saved, not only her family but her bloodline, did what she had to do to repair their future.”

  Cut smiled broadly. “She thought outside the box. She used whatever assets she had and fought against society and social standing.” He shook his head, almost in awe of his ancestor. “She took out a loan, Nila. Not just a loan, but a carefully plotted move and effortlessly executed design. Once her husband, Frank, died of sickness, instead of giving up, she blossomed. She approached a wealthy earl and bedded him. She’d learned the art of seduction thanks to Percy Weaver raping her every night and put that training to good use. Through sheer determination, she earned the good graces of the earl, who agreed to grant her money for revenge.

  “His heart grew fond of her. After her tale of what the Weavers had done, along with evidence of her nightly terrors, husband’s death, and her son’s troubles, he agreed to take the Hawks in and helped them with legal counsel and the drawing up of the Debt Inheritance.

  “Bennett Hawk was mentally unstable from his tragedy when it came to signing the Debt Inheritance. However, it didn’t stop the document being lodged with the crown thanks to the earl who’d become mesmerised by Mabel Hawk. On the day of the signing, Bennett didn’t have an heir but Mabel circumnavigated that problem by writing an unborn son called William Hawk into the binding contract. She thought of everything, never resting as she prepared to overthrow the Weavers. It didn’t matter to her there would be an age gap. She had bigger plans than taking Sonya’s life.

  “In a few short years, she’d earned the affection of a powerful gentleman, all for her own ends, protected her family, and ensured retribution to those that’d hurt her.”

  Cut stopped pacing. “But it wasn’t enough.”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “She was on her own with no husband or help. If she failed, the Weavers would ensure she’d be arrested and rot in jail for ever daring to leave their employ. The Debt Inheritance was flimsy at best. She had no wealth to back up her claim. No court on her side. No crown to defend her. She’d done all she could with the earl’s help, but she needed more. More money, more power, more protection.

  “As it was, living in the earl’s house, she and Bennett were untouchable for a short time. She worked tirelessly, never failing in her quest to bring the Weavers down, but despite the earl helping her, his small amount of power wasn’t enough to ensure the Debt Inheritance would be enforced.

  “A few years passed and the threat of the Debt Inheritance kept the Weavers from coming after her. However, Sonya grew older and Bennett still had no heir. The ages to be claimed would become void, and Mabel wasn’t getting any younger. So she put the next part of her plan in place.

  “Despite her hoodwinking the earl in the bedroom, he wouldn’t do anything more. He wouldn’t publicly announce his involvement with her—relationships outside classes were forbidden—and she grew tired of being yet another secret and burden.

  “Instead, she set her sights higher. Her family had their freedom—for now—and were the proud owners of a document stating Bennett Hawk’s heir could claim Sonya Weaver to extract the debts his family had endured. However, Bennett refused. His fight was gone and he slipped into sickness and depression.

  “Mabel noticed her son fading and did what any mother would do to immortalise her family’s lineage. She hired a girl off the street—a whore she knew in passing, a girl who’d fallen for the malicious sins of the upper class. She interviewed this girl, got close to her, and ensured she was good stock to breed the perfect offspring. Only once she was sure she was strong and untouched by disease did she get her son drunk enough to make love to her night after night until she was pregnant with a new heir.”

  Cut pursed his lips. “What was the name of that heir, Nila?”

  Despite the sudden switch from storytelling to questioning, I remembered easily. “William Hawk.” A firstborn son. Fate smiling kindly on a family who’d endured so much. How different would history have been if he’d had a girl instead?

  He nodded, satisfied. “Yes, exactly.”

  Breaking eye contact, Cut continued to roam the room, unable to stay still. Jethro followed him with his gaze, like me. While Cut talked, we were safe. However, the moment the lesson was over…we wouldn’t be.

  I didn’t want to listen. I wanted to plot an escape. But Cut’s voice dragged me back under his tortuous spell.

  “Bennett sprang to life when the whore gave birth to his son, but it wasn’t enough to completely drag him from his demons. He lived a little longer, enough to see his son grow up from toddler to young boy, before succumbing to the sweating-sickness that plagued London with no warning.

  “Instead of mourning her son’s death, Mabel Hawk kept it a secret and summoned a meeting with Sonya Weaver. She had already hit maturity and was old enough to understand her place in society. She was of claiming age, but William was still too young. However, that was never Mabel’s intention, and it didn’t stop her from setting things into motion. Things she’d planned for years now she had an heir to fulfil her prized future.

  “Waiting until Sonya
was away from her family with a new lady’s maid in the park, she approached her with the contract. The girl tried to deny it, but she was old enough to know what went on in the household. Smart enough to know Mabel had been hurt by her father and crimes such as those had to be answered for.

  “No doubt Percy Weaver had told her about the preposterous contract, laughing with his wife at such a thing. But Sonya, in her wise young way, saw the Debt Inheritance as something strict and serious rather than a joke.

  “She didn’t scoff or run when Mabel uttered, ‘The time is nigh to pay your debts,’ and passed her a sealed and signed copy of the agreed contract.

  “Sonya didn’t believe she had to answer for her father’s sins and tried to refuse—as anyone would—but she’d witnessed what her family had done. She’d heard Mabel’s screams while lying in her bed. She’d been too young to stop it but not young enough to stop the guilt festering inside for not trying to help.”

  “Even as a young woman, she was a good person,” I interrupted. “Not all my ancestors were cruel. You can’t hate my entire bloodline for two rotten people.”

  Cut tutted. “No but the same cruelty that ran in your ancestor’s veins runs in yours. No matter how small. We merely keep it at bay by making you pay for what you did.” Marching away, Cut slid back into his tale. “Mabel knew she ran a risky game by approaching Sonya. For weeks, she sat on edge, waiting for Percy Weaver to storm into her sanctuary and drag her from safety. She didn’t venture outside; she didn’t let William leave to play with his friends. He was all she had, now her son was dead, and waited with worry. However, nothing happened. Sonya hadn’t told. She’d proven a worthy martyr and there was no need to enlist the help of her quiet benefactor the earl.”

  I rolled my wrists, spinning in place as Cut patrolled the cave. Jethro’s eyes glazed with pain and vexation, the gag and duct tape stretching his cheeks. He looked half in this world and half in the other, fading before my eyes.

  No matter his story dragged out Jethro’s discomfort, Cut continued, “In that fateful meeting with Mabel and the first indebted girl, a new deal had been struck. Unbeknownst to Percy Weaver, the new bargain was in favour of everyone involved.”

  “What?” I bit back the question, hating I’d become involved in Cut’s story.

  He smiled. “Sonya would be spared the long and agonising death by debts if she did two things.” He paused for me to ask him what those two things were, but I refused. He’d tell me without me playing his twisted game.

  Cut sniffed. “Those two things bound the women together as another year ticked past. Mabel endured living with the earl even though his affection came with more and more bruising fists, and William grew up, faster every month.

  “Mabel was prepared to wait however long it took for Sonya to fulfil her promises. However, she didn’t have to wait as long as she feared.” Cut grinned. “Item number one for Sonya to achieve, to ensure she would be spared, came true without much trouble.”

  Cut spun, running his hand over his chin. “The silly girl fell in love, and in a night of passion, ruined the life Mabel agreed to save.”

  I shivered. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, the first condition was fulfilled. Mabel wanted Sonya to get pregnant, to give birth to many offspring for William to inherit. He would never be of age to inherit his original indebted. But there would be others. Amendments to be made. New rules to be scratched into parchment. Sonya wasn’t married, but had stupidly gotten with child from her secret lover. Mabel immediately ensured the earl took care of the dowry and married the pair.

  “Percy Weaver stood by in shock as his daughter accepted the terms because her name would be disgraced if news got out she’d slept around. He hated that his ex-housekeeper and sex-slave had left his employ and was now protected by a man he couldn’t touch. Mabel wasn’t stupid; she didn’t antagonise the Weavers without putting solid foundations down first. And with the one good deed of marrying Sonya to her lover, she held her life in her hands.

  “That very life she offered to give back to her on one condition.” Cut paused for dramatics.

  The rhyme of his words wrenched to a stop, leaving the silence in the cave eerily cold. My eyes landed on Jethro. We shared a silent conversation.

  I love you.

  I love you more.

  Whatever happens, I’ll find you.

  Whatever happens, we’ll be together.

  “What was that one condition, Nila?” Cut asked, coming close enough to run his fingers through my hair.

  I shook my head, dislodging his hold. “From what I’m beginning to learn of Mabel, the one condition would be their deaths.”

  Hurry up.

  I’d listened long enough. I didn’t want to become consumed with past rights and wrongs. I always ended up feeling hatred toward my own flesh and blood and unwillingly on the Hawk’s side.

  Despite that, I needed to know. I would never have guessed the story was so tangled or full of deceit and double-cross. I ached to think of Bennett Hawk living such a sad existence only to die unhappy and tormented by his past.

  Cut smiled, his goatee bristling. “You’re a fast study. Good girl.” He continued his journey around the cave. “Exactly. Sonya would live a full life with a husband and children…if she agreed to kill her parents.”

  My heart raced. A hard bargain but, dare I agree, a justified end?

  “Sonya sullenly agreed, and Mabel found a woman in the ghetto selling potions and poisons. The same witchcraft that her daughter was killed for thanks to the Weaver Wife. With money from her earl, she purchased two vials of deadly poison and gave them to Sonya.”

  Cut’s voice sped up, reaching the end and rushing toward other things. “Two weeks later, Sonya met Mabel in their agreed meeting place. There was a new wedding band on her finger, a growing baby in her stomach, and the news that both her parents—the very same ones who’d raped, mutilated, and killed the Hawks—were dead from fatal poisoning.”

  “Did the police not investigate?”

  Cut laughed. “No. The authorities didn’t get involved. Weary from the paperwork and previous nightmares caused by the Weavers, they stayed out of it. The Weavers’ standing within the community was tarnished and nobody really cared about a suspicious death when it solved so much propaganda and ill will.”

  Cut clapped his hands. “So there you have it. Mabel Hawk single-handedly ensured the continuation of the Weavers by Sonya’s pregnancy, made it so her mentally broken son impregnated a whore, and the two people who’d been the crux of her pain were dead.

  “Unfortunately, Bennett had died before her triumph. Her revenge came years after his brutal rape, but it didn’t dampen the pleasure in knowing she’d won the first battle.”

  My voice replaced Cut’s deep one. “That doesn’t explain how she became so wealthy or how the Hawks crushed the Weavers. A scandal like that would fade in time. My ancestors had a skill. They worked for the crown. Even if Mabel married the earl, her title wouldn’t be enough to be highly influential in court—not to mention she was a commoner, regardless of marriage.”

  Cut smiled, savouring the rest of his secrets. “Don’t rush the story, Nila. I never said she married the earl. In fact, quite the opposite. After a time, she faded from his affection, and he tossed her out on the street. He finally saw she’d used him and wanted nothing more to do with her. Over the years, he’d become a drunkard and a wife-beater, ripping apart what they could’ve shared.

  “Mabel went from living in a nice abode to begging for scraps on the street. The only possession she took with her was her grandson, William. The boy had just turned twelve and was a troublesome child.”

  Moving closer, Cut whispered in my ear, “And that leads to the next part of the tale. The part where the true rise to diamond power began.

  “The part that destroyed your family, once and for all.”

  TOO MANY YEARS had passed since my family fell apart thanks to Percy Weaver and his hellish family. So
many years since he’d raped me for the final time. Excruciating years since I secured our lineage and ensured my son’s heritage was passed to another.

  My daughter was dead, drowned for lies of witchcraft. My son was dead, raped and mentally broken. And my husband was dead, leaving me to defend our legacy on my own.

  The hate toward the family who’d taken my everything never ceased—bubbling, billowing, wanting so much to deliver revenge.

  And now, I had a way to extract that revenge.

  In the days before we worked for the Weavers, I’d been a hopeful girl looking for love. I’d met Frank young and fell pregnant within months. For years, I thought our troubles of living on the streets, of begging and stealing, would be the lowest point in our lives.

  However, we hadn’t met the Weavers yet. We hadn’t entered into their employment. We didn’t know how bad things could get.

  I wanted to rest. I needed to rest. But I couldn’t.

  For a time, things had been good with the Earl of Wavinghurst, but then I ran out of energy to perform and beguile. He had an issue with his fists, and although I willingly paid for my freedom from the Weavers with a little pain, I’d reached my threshold.

  It was mutual—the day he asked me to leave.

  I had nothing of my own, only my precious grandson, and traded the staff quarters of his manor for the slums of the London poor.

  The Weavers were dead.

  Sonya gave birth to a boy followed by twins—a boy and a girl—a year and a half later. The firstborn girl had been delivered, and in order to claim the Debt Inheritance and finally balance the karma scales, I had to find more power and immeasurable wealth so William was in a position to claim his birthright.

  In the meantime, I had to find a way to put food in my grandson’s belly. I didn’t want to, but I had no choice—I returned to what I’d become with the earl. I sold my body; willingly giving the only asset I had left to stay alive.