Final Debt

by Pepper Winters

  “Tomorrow.” His mouth pressed against mine.

  I squirmed, but he held me firm. “Daniel might’ve made you pay the Third Debt but don’t for a second think I’ve forgotten that I didn’t. You chickened out at Almasi Kipanga, but you won’t have a choice tonight.”

  I refused to let him see my fear. “I fought you then. I’ll fight you now.”

  Cut chuckled. “We’ll see.”

  “I’ll die fighting. I’ll fight every second for Jethro.”

  “Jethro?” Bonnie snapped, full attention brimming. “What about that traitor?”

  Cut smiled at his mother. “Long story. I’ll tell you later.” Turning his gaze back to me, he whispered, “Jethro will know you’ll fight. His imagination will run rampant of images of me doing all sort of things to you now we’re home.” He kissed my cheek again. “The eyes paint an awful picture, Nila, but the mind is far worse.”

  Letting me go, he strode off, saying over his shoulder. “When you’re dead and Jethro’s been taught a lesson, he’ll no doubt try to find a way to kill me. What he doesn’t realise is, I’m one step ahead of him. I’ll hurt him. I’ll ruin him. And I’ll tell him word for word what I did to you and watch it break him apart.”

  Rounding the corner, Cut’s voice sailed back with promise. “He won’t kill me because he’ll be ruined before he ever gets the chance.”

  FINALLY.

  Finally, fate decided to throw me a fucking break.

  The captain hesitantly accepted my pocket full of uncut diamonds, swiping a hand through a bushy moustache. I’d never met him, but he’d heard of me—like everyone in Botswana. “You want to leave now, now? Like right now?”

  I nodded, anxiety pinging in my blood. “Yes. Like this very fucking minute.”

  Nila…

  He frowned. “Just you?”

  I nodded.

  “To Turweston Airport, England?”

  I nodded again.

  We’d been over this, but I felt his confliction. He wanted the diamonds. He wanted to fly me. He just needed a moment to let the magnitude of logging a new flight plan and departing the moment he landed from a previous contract compute.

  Lowering my voice, I encouraged, “I know you’ve just arrived with another client. But I need to go this very moment. If that’s not a possibility, then I’ll have to look elsewhere.”

  I held out my palm, requesting the return of the glittering stones.

  The captain clutched his fist where the diamonds lay. He bit his lip, slowly working out what tiredness was worth compared to an instant fortune. Amazing how such simple stones could corrupt even the most innocent.

  “I didn’t say I couldn’t take you.”

  I crossed my arms, wincing a little at the aches in my body. “Decide. We need to leave.”

  His eyes darted to the private jet sitting serenely by the hangar. After arriving at the airport, courtesy of the worker who should've been a race car driver rather than a diamond digger, I’d found there were no commercial flights for thirty-six hours.

  That was too long.

  It wouldn’t work.

  I fucking refused to go through the nightmare of flying economy while fearing for Nila’s life. Last time, I’d arrived late. Daniel had touched her and Nila had to defend herself by taking a life.

  I won’t let that happen again.

  But the gods of fate had finally smiled at me as the captain I now propositioned had walked through the terminal with his flight bag and weary eyes ready for a nightcap and bed. He paused, eavesdropping on my conversation with another pilot offering all number of things if he’d charter a plane and get me to England tonight.

  He’d interrupted and guided me outside where no other ears would hear.

  The moment it was just us, I’d pulled free the pocketed diamonds and given him my terms. There were a few missing—I’d paid the worker a big bonus for driving me so quickly before sending him back to the mine to find the guy who’d driven me last night. I’d promised my previous ride two thousand pounds. Who knew if he still waited by the gates, but he deserved to be compensated for his loyalty.

  I would never take people’s willingness to help another ungratefully again.

  The pilot rolled a clear stone in his fingers, a decision solidifying on his face. Finally, he nodded. “Fine. Let’s go.”

  “Good choice.” I wanted to fucking kiss him. Instead, I prowled toward the aircraft and prepared to face my father one last time.

  I checked the clock above the cockpit for the millionth time.

  Almost there.

  By my calculations, I was only a couple of hours behind Nila and Cut. Their international service had been delayed—I’d seen the departure board at the terminal—and their airliner travelled at a slower speed.

  Also, once in England, clearing customs would’ve taken a while depending on Nila’s acting skills.

  Even though I was so close, chasing Nila through the skies—it wasn’t quick enough.

  Come on. Fly faster.

  The air-hostess, who hadn’t looked happy when the pilot asked her to pull a double shift, came forward. The co-pilot had also grumbled, but nothing a few bribes and promises couldn’t fix. Both the flight attendant and the crew had assumed they’d finished for the day. But they’d agreed. Everyone agreed for money. Even if tiredness and common-sense told them otherwise.

  We were all running on fumes, lethargy and stress slowly polluting the interior of the plane. Mile after mile we travelled and I drank coffee after coffee, refuelling on pre-packaged sandwiches and fruits stocked in the plane’s galley.

  My stomach was no longer empty and with edible vitamins came healing. My body knitted together enough to get me through the day. My vision stabilised and my headache receded. My fever remained, however, staining my hope with an unwanted film.

  “Another drink, Mr. Hawk?” The air-hostess with her plaited dark hair was pretty enough but held nothing compared to Nila.

  God, Nila.

  I’d never been so attracted to someone both physically and emotionally. The shared text messages had made me proud of her, pissed at her, lusting for her. She’d become a friend…then lover. But mostly, she’d become everything I ever needed.

  Clenching my hand, I rubbed at the sudden ache in my heart.

  I fucking miss you, Needle.

  I shook my head. “A phone. Do you have an in-flight phone I can use?”

  She nodded. “I’ll get it for you.” Disappearing down the back of the aircraft, she returned with a satellite phone.

  The moment I turned it on, I forgot all about her and focused on rallying every plan I’d put into place before Jasmine called to say Nila had been taken to Africa.

  How long ago was that?

  A decade? Two?

  Shit, it felt like an eternity.

  The first call was to Tex.

  He answered on the first ring, almost as if he sensed the magnitude of the situation and the peril his daughter was in.

  “Arch speaking.”

  “It’s Jethro.”

  His voice turned sharp. “You said you’d call me hours ago, Hawk. What the hell happened?”

  “Change of plan.” I swiped a hand over my face. “Look, they took her before I could put everything into place. It’s happening right now. You need to gather whoever you’ve been working with and get to Hawksridge this very fucking second.” My heart charged with gunpowder. “Can you do that?”

  “What the fuck happened? Is my daughter okay? Tell me what the hell you did!”

  “She is for now, but she won’t be if we don’t move fast. Get ready. I’ll meet you outside the gates to the estate in—” I checked the clock. Landing was in two hours. The local airport I’d ordered us to land in was closer to Buckinghamshire than Heathrow. Every extra minute I gained on my father counted. On a commercial service, Cut would’ve had no choice but to land at Heathrow.

  Local time would place my arrival at late morning.

  I’m closing
in.

  Working out the time differences, I said, “Meet me at eleven thirty a.m. Bring everything you have. I’ll tell you what we need to do when I’m there.”

  “Jethro—”

  “No, I don’t have the time to console or repeat myself—just be there.” I hung up and dialled the next man on my list.

  Kill answered on the third ring.

  “Speak.”

  “Kill, it’s Hawk.”

  “About time you fucking called. Been sitting in this damn bed and breakfast waiting for the green light to move.”

  “You’re in Buckinghamshire?”

  “Where the fuck else would I be? I said I’d come. I came. Brought three of my best men with me, too.”

  I slouched in my seat with gratitude.

  Thank God for friends in random places.

  I took a deep breath. “I need you to get to Hawksridge as soon as you can. Sneak onto the grounds. Hide. If you see anything threatening Nila Weaver’s life, you have full permission to do whatever’s necessary.” My voice faded. “Just keep her safe for me. I’m almost there.”

  “The woman I met at your diamond warehouse?”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. “That’s the one. My father will have her, or possibly my grandmother. I want to deal with them on my own so keep them alive if possible. But above all, do whatever you need to keep Nila unharmed—even if it means slaughtering them.”

  Kill’s voice grew cold and calculated. “You have my word. We’ll leave now. See you soon, Hawk.”

  Hanging up, my fingers shook as I dialled the final number.

  “Flaw speaking.”

  “Flaw…it’s Kite.”

  It didn’t escape my notice I’d made three phone calls and used three names. Was that who I’d become? Three facets of myself? How would I choose which was the better side of me and settle into one person after so much strife?

  “Shit, man. Cut just arrived ten minutes ago. Bonnie has Nila up in her quarters. Where the fuck are you?”

  Shit!

  “I’m on my way. I’ve sent reinforcements, but I need you to do something for me.”

  “Name it.”

  “I’m making you vice president of the Black Diamonds. I need you to gather those you trust to take down the members loyal to Cut. Fracture and Cushion should swear allegiance to you. Colour might, too—he was friends with Kes and not a bad guy. But the rest, I’m unsure of. You’ll have to work out who to trust and who to peg for a rebellion. You think you can do that?”

  Silence before he gulped. “You want me to start anarchy?”

  “I’m asking you to get the brothers out of the way. The war is happening right now. It’s going to end tonight. I can’t have the club getting in the way.”

  “I know which members will stick by you and which won’t. Leave it with me. I’ll make sure to keep them out of the way and deal with those who won’t behave.”

  I smiled with thanks. “Appreciate it. I’ll be there soon. Help will arrive with me. I have reinforcements. Just stay low and get ready.”

  “Been born ready, my man. This is yours. Don’t fucking care it’s not your thirtieth or you haven’t inherited the estate yet. This became personal when that motherfucker shot Kes in cold blood.”

  Leaning against the window, I sighed. “It’s personal. And it’s almost over.”

  Flaw growled, “Let’s finish this for him.”

  The ache returned to my heart—this time for my brother.

  I fucking miss you, Kestrel.

  “For Kes.” Hanging up, my eyes fell on the clouds and world far below us.

  Up here, I was closer to my brother. Closer to his untethered soul.

  If you can hear me, brother. Don’t leave. Not yet. Things will be better after tonight. You’ll be safe. Jaz will be safe. We can have the life you always dreamed.

  Turbulence hit the plane, bouncing us like a skittle.

  I liked to think it was him…telling me he’d heard and wouldn’t give up.

  Stay alive. Give me a little more time.

  And then wake up and come home.

  “COME HERE, CHILD.”

  All I wanted to do was escape, to be alone so I could drop the mask of defiance and indifference. It took every effort to come across contrite and fearful but not guilty and sinful.

  Daniel’s death glowed inside me, giving me power. But I couldn’t deny I was tired. I needed to rest...in case I said something stupid and escalated my death from tomorrow to today.

  Jethro…keep breathing.

  Every time I thought of him, the image of dank mines and oppressive walls came back. I hated him trapped down there, alone, hurting.

  I knew so much now. I knew about Mabel and William. I knew a secret both Bonnie and Cut didn’t know.

  The secret burned a hole in my soul because what good was a secret if I died with it—especially when it would grant pain to hear it.

  If I tell her, I could kill her before she tells anyone else…

  My heart skipped.

  Yes, I like that plan.

  Bracing my shoulders, I moved toward Bonnie. She’d escorted me into her quarters, ferrying me into the lift I assumed Jasmine used to move around. I’d never been in the silver box and hated travelling even a small distance with Bonnie in such a tight space.

  Jasmine.

  Does she know I’m back?

  Could she sense her brother’s predicament? Was she like Vaughn and in-tune with her sibling’s well-being?

  Vaughn.

  Could he tell I’d been hurt? Where was he? The entire drive from the airport, I’d feared he would be at Hawksridge, firing cannons and charging with some fictional cavalry to rescue me.

  But he wasn’t.

  I was both glad and heartbroken.

  Jethro couldn’t save me this time. I would do my best—I wouldn’t die without a fight—but what if it wasn’t enough? I was more alone here than I was at the mine. At least there I was surrounded by strangers. Here, I was surrounded by enemies.

  Stop that.

  It took every last reserve, but I shoved my fears deep, deep inside and embraced antagonising pompousness.

  Bonnie expected me to be as broken as my arm.

  She was very much mistaken.

  Cocking my chin, I pranced toward her. “Did you miss me?” I eyed up her quarters. “Last time I was in here, I seem to remember I taught you seamstresses are better than flower arrangers.”

  Bonnie’s rouge-painted cheeks whitened. “And I seem to recall I showed you what happened to Owen and Elisa and proved Jethro played into the hands of fate. He’s dead because of you. Congratulations.”

  Goosebumps darted over my skin. I probably shouldn’t but Cut would tell her. I wanted to be the one to deliver the news. “He’s not dead. He’s alive and coming for you.”

  Wishes were free. Threats were cheap. I could taunt her even knowing Jethro remained bound to a chair and lorded over by Marquise.

  She fisted the top of her cane. She didn’t break decorum, merely looking a little ruffled and a lot annoyed. “I highly doubt that. How is he still alive? What exactly is the meaning of this nasty business?”

  I glided forward. “You don’t deserve to know.” The pictures of Owen and Elisa still graced the walls. The overwhelming perfume of her flower arrangements poisoned the air.

  My skin crawled with how much I despised her.

  Die, witch. Die.

  Bonnie came closer, her cane sinking into the carpet, her red lipstick once again smeared on pencil thin lips. “You look at me as if I’m the devil. You’re such a stupid child. Go on, you have my permission. What do you see when you look at me?”

  My mouth parted, sensing a trap.

  She waved her stick. “Go on. I want to know.”

  I balled my hands, rising to her challenge. “Fine. I see a twisted, old woman who’s controlled her son and grandsons with no mercy. I see a soulless creature who doesn’t know the meaning of love. I see a scorned hate-filled Ha
wk who never understood the true value of family.” My voice lowered to a hiss. “I see a walking dead woman.”

  She chuckled. “You have more perception than I gave you credit for.” Sniffing, she looked down her nose. “You’re right on some accounts. I have controlled my son and grandsons because, without me, they wouldn’t have the discipline required to maintain the Debt Inheritance and future responsibilities of this family.”

  “When you’re dead, your legacy will die with you.”

  “Yes, perhaps.” She smiled. “But you’ll be dead long before me, Ms. Weaver. Perhaps you should remember that so you don’t forget your place.” Stabbing her cane into the carpet, she sneered. “Now, enough, what do you have to say for yourself?”

  My hands fisted. I stared at the flower arrangement on the trestle by the door. I’d had to stand there and listen to her high-class airs and demands, seething while she speared lilies and roses into oasis foam.

  I hated the perfection of lilies. I despised the bright red of roses.

  My temper swirled out of control. “I’ll tell you what I have to say, old witch.”

  Bonnie froze. “What did you just say?”

  If I did this, there would be no turning back.

  I would die tomorrow.

  But I could live today.

  I could achieve more in one act of cruelty than I ever could in a coffin.

  No one knew when death was coming.

  I supposed I was lucky in a way—knowing the grim reaper waited for me gave me a certain kind of freedom. The knowledge gave me power to face my nightmares rather than run.

  Plucking the vase with my good hand, I held the bushel of flowers as a weapon. Petals fell by my feet, dripping slowly in the heat of her boudoir. “You make me sick.”

  Her eyes flared. “Put that down this instant.”

  Tucking the arrangement haphazardly into my sling, I stalked closer. Wrenching the head off a red rose, I threw the petals in her direction. “You set a bad example for all grandmothers around the world.”

  She stood taller but stepped backward. Not wanting to give up ground but wary at the same time.

  I threw another destroyed rose in her direction. “You’ve polluted this earth for long enough.”