Final Debt

by Pepper Winters

  We were bound together until the end. Blood to blood. Pain to pain. There would be no separating my mind from his until he was dead.

  “Jethro—” Nila gave chase, following us out the exit, leaving the guillotine behind.

  I spun around just in time for her to launch into my arms. Her black hair glistened like a raven wing. The afternoon sunshine mocked us after the darkness that’d happened in the ballroom.

  Kill continued onward, dragging Cut away and granting a small oasis of silence. My arms wrapped around her tightly even though I wanted to push her away.

  Her chest rose and fell, her embrace one-armed with her other dangling painfully by her side. “Please, Kite…just stop for a moment and—”

  “Nila, you promised.”

  “I know, but—” Her eyes met mine, glossing with angry tears. “I’m not going to stop you. I understand. I really do. I just. I needed to—I need…”

  My heart overflowed, and I grabbed her. My forehead nudged hers as I bowed over her. “I know what you need.”

  My mouth claimed hers and she sighed, melted, positively submitted to my kiss. Her tongue instantly met mine in a tangle of hot desire, invoking pleasure and pain and undeniable passion.

  This kiss deleted the last one we’d shared in the mine as she was dragged away. That kiss had been a goodbye. This kiss was a hello. An acknowledgment we soon wouldn’t have to fear tomorrow. That the future was no longer our enemy but our friend. We could be together. Our promise to get married could come true. Our heartbeats unnumbered now we’d won.

  Pulling away, I kissed the tip of her nose, her eyelids, her hair. “I’ll be back soon.”

  She arched in my hold, peppering my rough cheeks with affection. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

  “I know.”

  Slipping from my embrace, her gaze travelled past me to Cut. “Do you mind?”

  I stiffened but didn’t stop her. “By all means.”

  If it granted her closure, who was I to stop her saying goodbye? Cut was no threat. Even if he wasn’t bound and gagged and held by Kill, he wouldn’t run. I knew he’d accepted his fate and would stand regal and defiant until the end.

  His almost royal bearing made me proud for a moment. Proud that I came from such strong stock, even if madness ran in his veins. If my condition had prevented me from inheriting his drive for perfection, regardless of what sins he committed, then I was glad.

  I wasn’t like my family.

  I was unique.

  I was me.

  And I’d never been more fucking grateful.

  Nila padded over to Cut, her bare feet disappearing into the long grass. Kill didn’t speak as she stopped in front of my father. The wind whipped her hair around her jaw, slicing and slicking, looking like oil in the breeze.

  “I said before that I forgive you.”

  Cut shifted, rolling his shoulders in Kill’s grip.

  “I’m not here to take that forgiveness back. I don’t even know why I’m here.” She rubbed her face, trying to re-centre herself. “I guess I wanted to say…be thankful. Your crimes have caught up with you…and I’m there to see it.” Her voice lowered as she looked back up. “I’m here to see you one last time. To know you’re just human. That you were doing what you thought was right, but now you have to pay. We all have to pay, Cut. Nothing is free in this world, and you’ve taken enough from my family that from now on, we’ve paid our dues and deserve happiness. I won’t celebrate your death. I won’t think of you with hate or cruelty. But I will be free of you, and I’ll be happy you’re no longer there to terrorize my lineage.”

  Shuffling away, she smiled softly. “May God have mercy on your soul, Bryan Hawk, and for you to find redemption in whatever awaits you.”

  Looking at me one last time, she moved back toward the Hall.

  V and Tex hugged her, kissed her, then let her go.

  Flaw appeared from the exit, jogging over to Nila and slinging an arm over her shoulders, joining her family. His possession didn’t spark jealousy; if anything, it granted peace knowing she would be cared for and protected while I was gone.

  “Thank you, Flaw.” My voice travelled on the gentle wind to the Black Diamond brother. I didn’t know how much war had gone on before our arrival, but he’d managed to enlist over three-quarters of the brothers to fight on our side. I would have to debrief and investigate each member and have them swear new allegiance to me, but for now, Flaw was in charge.

  He saluted me casually. “No problem.”

  V guarded her while Tex looked dotingly at his children.

  Switching his grip on Nila, Flaw relinquished her shoulders in favour of her hand. “I’ll take her to her quarters and make sure she’s fed and rested. Don’t worry about her.”

  I smiled in gratitude.

  Nila didn’t say a word as Flaw guided her around Hawksridge, leading her toward another entrance and avoiding the nastiness of the ballroom. Tex and V followed, smearing bloody hands on their black trousers.

  I would never know if Flaw’s loyalty was because he trusted me or because of his steadfast friendship with Kes. Either way, he was a good man. And his actions today had prevented yet more deaths and helped those injured with his medical help.

  Turning my back on the Hall, I moved alongside Kill as he shoved Cut forward, leading us away from prying eyes and looming buildings.

  We didn’t talk as we traversed the lawn, circumnavigated the maintenance shed where Cut had given me the salt shaker and told me it was time for the Second Debt, and entered the woods.

  Our shoes snapped twigs as we moved deeper into forest darkness.

  “You sure you want to do this, Hawk?” Kill’s voice grabbed my attention. He fisted Cut around the back of his neck, shoving him forward. Two of Kill’s men flanked us, morphing from the trees where they’d been watching the Hall.

  I appreciated the back-up, but I didn’t want an audience. The minute we arrived at our destination, I would send them away.

  I needed to be alone in this.

  Looking at the Florida-born president, I nodded. “I know what I’ll have to pay in order to get retribution. But yes, I’m sure.”

  Kill grinned. “When the day comes for me to claim vengeance on my own father, I’m taking it. I don’t care how hard it will be to kill flesh and blood or how fucked-up I am afterward. I need closure. I understand you completely.”

  I didn’t reply. I had no reason to. He lived the same predicament, and his approval helped fortify my resolve.

  In shared brotherhood, we made our way down animal tracks and through clearings, moving ever deeper into the treeline.

  The outbuilding I’d decided on existed the furthest from the Hall. This one was hidden—alone with its horrible secrets. A place I’d never been able to enter after what happened to Jasmine, no matter what Cut did to me as a child. No matter the threats and corrections. No matter the curses and pain. I’d never stepped foot into the torture chamber again, boycotting its hateful memories.

  Our clothing dappled with leaf stencils, trading sunshine for shadows as we traipsed deeper and deeper. The outbuilding nestled in the woods—swallowed whole by trees doing their best to delete the terrible atrocities.

  We kept moving.

  Cut didn’t struggle, his breathing loud and uneven around the gag.

  More flickering hallucinations played havoc with my vision. Leaves danced, turning briefly into wolves. Bracken crunched, morphing into badgers.

  Goddammit, I need to rest.

  My hand went to my side. The fever I’d had ever since heading to Africa hadn’t broken or grown worse. If anything, it granted a heightened sense of everything, muddying outside influences, letting me focus entirely on what I wanted. What I needed. But it came with a price. A price of withering energy and health.

  Soon.

  Soon, I can rest.

  Breaking through a final thicket, we stepped into a small glen.

  The building loomed tall and ancient. Two storie
s high with oaks and pine surrounding it in their morbid cage. The double barn doors remained locked with a large padlock.

  The key was hidden.

  “Wait here.” Leaving the men, I ducked into the woods and searched for the tree I needed. Cut had taken me the night he’d told me of my birthday present and inheritance of Nila. He’d marched me through the darkness, filling my head with tales of what would happen and how proud he was that soon I would show him how worthy I was and finally take the place I was born for.

  My eyes searched the green gloom.

  Where is it?

  It took longer than I wanted, but finally, my strained eyes caught sight of the symbol of a diamond and an outline of hawk wings signalling I’d found the right one.

  Climbing a few feet up the coarse bark using gnarly roots and limbs, I found the knot left behind after a branch fell away and reached inside for the packet. Jumping down, I undid the fastening and tossed out the key into my palm.

  A few others jangled free, landing with a hint of rusty metal. The extras operated parts of the machinery inside. Machinery I had no intention of using or ever switching on again.

  Fisting them, I turned on my heel and stomped out of the brush past Cut, Kill, and his men and toward the brittle barn doors.

  My breathing turned harsh as I inserted the key into the tarnished padlock.

  The mechanism turned as smoothly as the day the lock was bought, the doors creaking on their frame as I shoved open one partition. The stench of dead rodents and rotting foliage mixed with time-stale dust hit my nose.

  Barring the entry with my body, I turned to face Kill.

  The biker came forward, delivering my father.

  I held out my arm. “Give him to me.”

  “You sure?”

  “Very sure. I want to be alone for the next part.”

  Kill passed over my father without another word. He didn’t try to talk me out of this. He didn’t have any obligation to remind me that this was murder, not revenge. That I would become as bad as those I hated if I went through with this.

  Kill was not my brother or my conscience. He’d done all he needed to. His obligations were complete.

  Cut didn’t struggle as I latched my fingers around his bound wrists. However, his eyes glowed with golden rage. His emotions poured forth, swamping with hatred and killable fury.

  “Are we done?” Kill asked, crossing his arms over his leather jacket. “Will you be okay with your own men or do you want back-up?”

  Shoving Cut into the barn, I ran a hand through my hair. “No. That’s it. Your task is finished. You’re free to return home, and I’ll make sure to repay the favour whenever you need.” Holding out my hand, Kill shook it.

  “We’ll wait until you’re done. I’ll station my men at the forest edge, just in case. Once they know you’ve finished, they’ll leave.” He cocked his head, eyeing the building. “How long will you need?”

  His question weighted with hidden curiosities he wouldn’t get answers to. What will you do? What’s in there? How badly will he die?

  I swallowed, dreading what my night would entail. “Until dark. I need until dark.”

  Kill grinned. “Six hours, it is.” Moving away, his large boots created indents in the soft woodland. “Pleasure knowing you, Hawk. I doubt we’ll see each other face-to-face again, but we’ll stay in touch.”

  We’d come together for mutual advancement, and now, we would go our separate ways. It was for the best.

  I waited for Kill and his men to disappear from the clearing before turning my back and entering the barn.

  The moment I traded trees for tomb, I shed all resemblance of who I was.

  I left behind my humanity.

  I tore Nila from my heart.

  I embraced the motherfucking ice my father had taught me.

  This would kill me.

  But it had to be done.

  I stepped into the darkness and prepared to murder.

  “HE WON’T BE able to live with himself.”

  Jasmine shook her head, wheeling toward me. “Yes, he will.”

  I sucked in a breath, looking toward the window. The same window where the bird of prey had delivered Jethro’s note to meet me in the stable.

  God, was that only a few days ago?

  It felt like an entire lifetime.

  I begged for a feathered messenger now to tell me everything was done, finished; that Jethro would return to me and nothing else could keep us apart.

  Jasmine’s wheels whispered over the thick carpet of my quarters. The soft bubble of the fish tank and gentle tick of the clock all screeched over my nerves.

  Springing from my mattress, I paced the large room. On every surface scattered half-sewn garments, scribbled drawings, and hastily cut fabric. My Rainbow Diamond collection existed in all stages of creation, but I would burn every scrap if it would bring Jethro closure and erase everything that’d happened.

  “Nila, stop. You’re worn out.” Jasmine stopped by the chaise, narrowing her eyes at my frantic pacing. “Sit down, for God’s sake.”

  I glared, disobeying.

  Flaw had done what he’d told Jethro. V and Tex had gone with the maids to spare guest rooms and Flaw had taken me quietly back to my quarters. He’d fetched a banquet of fruits, snacks, and vitamin rich food, and summoned a servant to help tend to my bruises in the shower.

  I wanted to refuse the food, knowing Jethro was just as weak as I was. I wanted to decline the shower because why should I be comforted while Jethro had such a trial to endure?

  But Flaw hadn’t let me argue.

  He’d crossed his arms and stood in my room while I showered away African dirt and dried sweat from the pain of my broken arm. Struggling to wash, I was grudgingly grateful for the sweet-smiling maid who helped me dry off with a fluffy towel and dress me in the black shift I’d worn when the weeping scabs on my back from the First Debt healed.

  The steam and warmth from the shower helped ease my aches and injuries, conjuring sleepiness and lethargic healing.

  By the time I re-entered my quarters, Flaw had a spread of plaster strips, gauze, and warm water—just like Cut used in Africa. He shuffled me over to the bench, shoved aside my needles and lace, and ordered me to eat while he gently felt my break, ensured my arm was in the correct position, and re-cast it with confident precision.

  I’d wanted to ask him questions about his life. Find out how he became a smuggler when it was obvious his true calling was to heal. But once the first mouthful of delicious food hit my tongue, I couldn’t stop eating.

  And that was why I wouldn’t stop pacing even though my arm still hurt, my knees still wobbled, and my eyes still burned with unshed tears. I couldn’t sit still. I’d been on the brink of death, and now, I was alive with a full belly and the welcome numbing of painkillers.

  What did Jethro have?

  Nothing.

  No one.

  Out there, on his own, about to do the unthinkable.

  Whirling around, I glowered at Jasmine. “He’s an Empath, Jaz. How the hell does he think he’ll make Cut pay without feeling everything he does to him? Whatever pain he bestows, it will boomerang back and hurt him in equal measure.” Gripping my damp hair, I missed the length. I wanted to tug on the ends and find some relief from the rapidly building pressure of despair.

  Jasmine sighed softly. “I learned early on that Jethro is stubborn—especially when he believes he’s doing the right thing.”

  “But he isn’t doing the right thing! He’s going to kill—”

  Her lips thinned. “And that’s not the right thing? Tell me, Nila. How much disgrace, death, and debts does my family have to do to yours to make it the right thing?” She pointed at the closed door. “I bet if I found Tex and Vaughn and asked them what they thought of Cut’s justice, they would dance for bloody joy.”

  I stormed toward her. The sling Flaw gave me kept my broken arm snug against my body, leaving me free to gesture with the other.

&nb
sp; “I won’t lie and say I don’t want Cut to pay. That isn’t what I’m worried about. I’m worried about what it will do to Jethro. What if this changes him? What if he can’t wipe away—”

  Jaz bent forward, capturing my hand. “Nila, shut up.” Squeezing my fingers, her temper glittered in her gaze. “It isn’t up to you. If Kite needs to do this—if he believes he has the strength to do this, then that’s his call. He’s waited almost thirty years to reap what his father has sowed. It isn’t up to you, me, or anyone else to interfere.”

  I hated that she made sense.

  My eyes once again returned to the window. My indignation and worry spilled out of me, dampening my desire to run after Jethro and stop him. My love for him flew out the window, winging to wherever he was.

  “I just…” My head hung as I struggled to articulate what I truly fretted over. “I love him, Jaz. I love him so damn much. It terrifies me to think I’ve only just earned him and he might leave me. How can I help him if he returns broken? How can I piece together a future I want so desperately if he can only remember death and agony?”

  Jasmine pulled me closer, forcing me to sit on the chaise. “Don’t torture yourself with what-ifs, Nila.” Her voice softened. “He will be able to live with himself, and I’ll tell you why. You don’t know what it was like living here since birth. You don’t know the mind games we endured and the unsaid threats we were raised with.”

  Pointing at her useless legs, she smiled sadly. “I have a daily reminder of what our childhood was like. And Jethro…every time he looks at me, he remembers, too. I try to hide my inner thoughts when he’s around because I don’t want him to know how much I miss walking. How much I miss running and riding and even the luxury of leaving the estate and going to a shop to browse things on shelves that are eye height instead of unreachable from a chair.”

  My heart broke for her.

  I grabbed her hand with my good one, granting back the support she’d just given me.

  For all Jasmine’s assurances that Jethro could withstand what he was about to do, I didn’t believe her. His empathy would mean everything he did for himself, for his sister, for me, would ricochet with persecution.