Third Debt

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Third Debt Page 6

by Pepper Winters


  “Even rape and murder?”

  Bonnie leaned forward. “Watch your tongue.”

  Cut clasped his fingers. “I’ll allow that one last question. Perhaps, if you finally understand that all of this is meticulously recorded, then you might stop thinking you’ve been indisposed and suffering an injustice.”

  Sitting taller in his chair, he buffed his fingernails on his cuff. “Things outside the realm of understanding can become approved if it’s drafted and agreed to. What do you think war is, Nila? It’s a contract between two countries that men in their comfy offices sign. With one signature, they deliver countless resources and sign the death warrant of so many lives. That’s murder. And it’s all done with no comeuppance because they had a contract stating they had the full use of enlisted men’s lives all for greed, money, and power.”

  I hated that he made sense; hated that I agreed with my archenemy. The world had always been twisted in that respect. Sending men off to war, only to die the moment they landed on enemy soil…then to send yet more men to the exact same battlefield, knowing the outcome would be death.

  That was homicide on a negligent global scale, and those in power never paid for their crimes.

  I sat silent.

  Cut smiled, knowing he’d gotten through to me in some way. “When I say everything was done by the law, I do mean everything.” He nodded at the stacks of paper. “In there, you’ll find every deviation from the Debt Inheritance along with a Hawk signature and a Weaver’s.”

  My heart skipped painfully. “You’re saying my family signed this?” I snorted. “I don’t believe that. Did you force them under duress?”

  Marshall huffed. “At no point would my firm accept such a thing. We have iron-clad records that protect our client’s reputation. We have proof to show there was no hardship signing the amendments.”

  Like I believed him. He let murderers get away with it for six hundred years.

  Plucking a piece of paper from the fourth pile, he handed it to me. “See for yourself.”

  Part of me wanted to crumple it up and throw it in his face, but I restrained.

  Calmly, I accepted the page and scanned it.

  The scraps Cut had given me in return for serving them lunch had been taken from this document. The Debt Inheritance was there in its entirety.

  My eyes highlighted certain lines, remembering the ridiculous contract.

  For actions committed by Percy Weaver, he stands judged and wanting.

  Even I agreed with that after he’d sent an innocent girl to her death by ducking stool and a boy to be raped for twelve hours.

  Bennett Hawk requires a public apology, monetary gain, and most of all, bodily retribution.

  How much money did Weaver pay? Was it enough for the Hawks to somehow leave England, find their diamonds, and became untouchable through wealth?

  In accordance with the law, both parties have agreed that the paperwork is binding, unbreakable, and incontestable from now and forever.

  That part I didn’t believe, but it wasn’t arguable. In the minds and pockets of the Hawks, Weavers had to pay continuously toward the bottomless debt.

  But Jethro would’ve ended it.

  We could’ve been the last generation to ever have to deal with this brutal nonsense.

  Percy Weaver hereby solemnly swears to present his firstborn girl-child, Sonya Weaver, to the son of Bennett Hawk, known as William Hawk. This will nullify all unrest and unpleasantries until such a time as a new generation comes to pass.

  So the boy who’d been raped for Weaver’s gambling debts was the one who’d carried out the first Debt Inheritance? Had he taken great joy in hurting the daughter of his enemy, or had he hated it as much as Jethro?

  This debt will not only bind the current occupancies of the year of our Lord 1472 but every year thereafter.

  How something had lasted for so long was a testament to feuds and grudges of wealthy madmen.

  Once I’d reached the bottom, Marshall handed me another page. “This was the last amendment to the contract before today’s meeting.”

  Doing a switch, I scanned the new document. The page was white and modern—only a few years old rather than decades.

  In the case of the last surviving line of Alfred ‘Eagle’ Hawk and Melanie Warren, the succession of the Debt Inheritance will go to Bryan ‘Vulture’ Hawk over his recently deceased brother, Peter ‘Osprey’ Hawk.

  I frowned, absorbing the legal jargon.

  What did it mean?

  I looked at the very bottom, sucking in a breath as I double-checked the feminine sweep.

  No.

  My mother’s signature.

  “What—”

  I read it again. No matter how much I wished it wasn’t true, it was. My mother’s signature inked the paper, prim and proper, just as I remembered her writing style to be.

  Right beside hers was Cut’s masculine scrawl.

  My brain scrambled; I glared at Cut. “You weren’t firstborn.”

  Cut smiled slyly. “Never said I was.”

  Bonnie’s red lips spread into a sneer. “Sad day for all involved.” She tapped her fingers on the table. “I’d groomed my firstborn to be a worthy heir. Peter would’ve been a good leader but circumstances I didn’t foresee came to light.” Her gaze narrowed at Cut, full of reproof and history.

  Cut shrugged. “A little mishap. That’s all.”

  Bonnie coughed. “Call it what you want. I still haven’t forgiven you.”

  Cut only laughed.

  What on earth happened in that generation? What about the ages of the men? How was Cut allowed to claim my mother? Was that why she’d had children? Hearing that the firstborn Hawk had died, had she believed she was unbound to the debts?

  If that was the case, how did she know what the future entailed when I hadn’t been told until Jethro appeared in Milan? Tex kept it from me. Emma might’ve been forewarned.

  So many questions. So many scenarios.

  When did Peter Hawk die?

  If he died when my mother was young, maybe that was why she fell so hard for my father. Drunk on the thought of freedom, she’d started a family far younger than she might’ve done thinking we were all…safe.

  What a horrible, terrible joke.

  Questions danced on my tongue. I chose the most random but most poignant. “What happens when you run out of Weavers to torture? I won’t have children. Vaughn won’t. What then?”

  Daniel laughed. “Remember that sister I joked about?”

  Oh, my God. It’s true?

  Cut interrupted. “You have no other siblings, Nila. I would’ve told you if you did. Merely a farce.”

  Daniel scowled. “Thanks for fucking ruining my fun. Had her believing that for months.”

  I hadn’t believed it…but I’d wondered.

  “So, it was all nonsense?”

  Cut shook his head. “Not quite. You have a cousin. A few times removed but still bearing the Weaver name. We would look at all avenues if the future required it.”

  Poor cousin.

  I overflowed with rage. “Do you ever listen to yourself? You’re talking about people, for God’s sake.”

  If Cut went after my unknown cousin, that didn’t explain the previous generations that’d had no children or were killed off before carrying on the bloodline. How did it continue for so long when having a child was never a guarantee?

  I knew how. They’d amended it. Tweaked the so-called unbreakable contract to fit with the Hawks’ demented ideals.

  Marshall plucked the paper from my hands. “I believe we’re getting off topic, Ms. Weaver.” Waving the parchment, he said, “Let’s focus on today’s subjects. Happy now you’ve seen the evidence with your own eyes?”

  “Happy isn’t a word I know anymore.” I bared my teeth. “She wouldn’t have signed that without being threatened. I don’t care what you say.”

  That fleeting afternoon when my mother returned home, adorned with the diamond collar and hugging
me so tightly, came to mind. She’d been terrified but resigned. Broken but strong. I hadn’t understood back then, but now I did.

  She’d reached the same stage I had. The stage where nothing else mattered but getting even, claiming justice.

  There’s a point to this meeting.

  My heart froze solid, finally understanding. “I won’t sign anything. I can assure you of that. You might as well pack up and piss off because I’ll tear apart anything you put in front of me.”

  Jasmine growled; Cut merely chuckled. “I’m sure if you did that, you’d make Daniel a very happy man.”

  Daniel draped an arm over me. “Oh, please, Weaver. Do it for me. You have my full permission to refuse the amendment and cut Jaz out of the updated terms.”

  “Like hell she will.” Jasmine looped her fingers together in aggression. “You’ll sign, Nila. You’ll see.”

  I didn’t reply, glaring at the table instead.

  Marshall shuffled the paper. “All right, let’s carry on.” Pinching the top sheet from the newest looking tower, he pushed it toward me. “This is the latest amendment and requires your signature.”

  My blood charged through overheated veins. “I told you—”

  “Shut it.” Jasmine snatched the paper and stabbed the bottom where an empty box waited for my life to spill upon it. “Do it. It’s your only choice.”

  Our eyes locked. Not only did I hate her for what she’d done and how much she’d tricked me, but I hated that she looked so much like him.

  Jethro.

  The shape of her nose. The curve of her cheekbones. She was the closest in appearance to him, and it hurt to hate someone who looked so much like the man I loved.

  “I told you. I’m not signing anything.”

  Jaz’s cheeks flushed. I wouldn’t put it past her to slap me. In fact, I wanted her to because then I’d have an excuse to fight with a girl in a wheelchair.

  Could I kill her? Could I slide my blade into her heart all while knowing Jethro had cared for her?

  He was tricked…same as me.

  I would honour his memory by destroying yet another person who’d betrayed him.

  Hartwell shifted in his chair. “You don’t know the terms yet. Listen before being hasty.”

  Jasmine tore her eyes away from mine, glaring at the lawyer. “The terms being that I have full right to both Weavers, Nila and Vaughn. In return, Daniel can have the estate and all monetary wealth that comes from being heir.”

  I flinched, shivering in the sudden arctic hatred she projected.

  “That has been discussed, Ms. Jasmine. I feel you’ll be satisfied with the arrangements.”

  Jasmine sniffed haughtily. “Discussions aren’t conclusions. There is no negotiation on the matter. I want to extract the Fourth and Final Debt. That right is mine.”

  “Jasmine, calm down. I’m sure you’ll be satisfied with the new arrangement.” Cut held out his hand. “Give me the contract, Hartwell. Let me see everything has been noted before we make it official.”

  Marshall stole the paper from me and slid it up the table.

  Cut caught it; he took his time reading, his eyes darting over fine print.

  I breathed hard, suffering a crushing weight of grief and revulsion.

  He’s dead.

  But they’re not.

  Why couldn’t Cut and Bonnie be dead instead of Jethro and Kestrel?

  Because life is never fair and it’s up to me to carve out justice.

  Jasmine remained rigid until Cut finally raised his eyes and shot the contract over the satin wood toward us. “I’m happy with that. The Fourth Debt will be repaid slightly differently to the rest, but that will be another discussion.” His eyes met his children’s. “In this case, three signatures will be required—Nila, Dan, and Jaz.”

  He made it sound like a school permission slip for us all to go play happily together.

  I snorted, rolling my eyes.

  Cut gave me a stern look.

  Samuel Cole, who hadn’t made a sound since I’d arrived, spoke up. “In that case, it is my duty to advise all of you that this new clause will be forever known as amendment 1-345-132.”

  My eyes widened. How many amendments had there been to warrant such a crazy number?

  Judging by the stacks of paperwork…a lot. Far too many. Was there anything left of the original contract?

  Mr. Cole continued, “Due to the unfortunate deaths of the firstborn, Jethro Hawk…”

  Pain slammed into me.

  Agony tore out my heart.

  Misery crumbled me into dust.

  Jethro.

  God, I wish you hadn’t left me.

  I couldn’t sit up straight; howling winds of grief ripped me apart. I hunched into myself, holding my ribcage to keep from sobbing.

  I managed to remain silent.

  But Jasmine didn’t.

  Her lip wobbled, tears streaking her cheeks. She cracked, but it didn’t last long. Sucking in a breath, she reached into the small satchel attached to her wheelchair and pulled out another handkerchief.

  Bowing her head, she dabbed at her eyes.

  My lips twisted in disgust. “I don’t buy your crocodile tears. Don’t bother putting on a show when I know you were part of this murder from the start.”

  Her head shot upright. Our souls duelled, violence sparking between us.

  Cole cleared his throat. “In natures of the firstborn perishing, the following may occur: The Debt Inheritance can be called null and void, leaving Ms. Weaver to propagate and provide a new heir for the payment at a later date, or, if both parties agree, a new heir instated. In the case of Jethro ‘Kite’ Hawk’s demise, the second in line, Angus ‘Kestrel’ Hawk also suffered an untimely end.”

  God, how much longer can this nightmare continue?

  I huddled further into my chair, a silent tear escaping. More swelled, wanting to river, but I refused to show my pain.

  Jasmine blew her nose, her cheeks glittering with moisture.

  I wanted to snatch each fake droplet and ram them down her lying throat.

  Daniel smirked, showing no other emotion. “Guess that leaves me in a lucky place.”

  Cole ignored him. “In this case, we’ve been asked to draft the following arrangement to protect both interests and move forward.” Placing a pair of silver-rimmed glasses on his nose, he picked up an identical copy of the contract. “On this day, the Debt Inheritance will be carried out by the remaining bloodlines of the Hawk family against the crimes committed by the Weavers. Jasmine Diamond Hawk will have sole custody and responsibility for Nila Weaver’s wellbeing until such a time as the Final Debt is claimed.”

  Daniel squirmed in his chair. “What the fuck? But—”

  “Let him finish,” Bonnie ordered.

  “Upon his thirtieth birthday, Daniel ‘Buzzard’ Hawk will gain the wealth and many estates associated with the Hawk empire and become the next undisputed heir to both the estate and future Debt Inheritance. It will be his responsibility to provide a firstborn son or the next generation will be exempt.”

  I sagged, finding a smidgen of silver lining.

  At least there would be no more Weavers from my bloodline to claim the debts from—and Daniel would be dead. I pitied my cousin’s family tree if the Hawks had another heir in mind, but I would never have children and Vaughn wouldn’t be stupid enough. He’d never let another one of our family go through what we had. The Hawks were screwed. They’d burned those bridges completely.

  Cole carried on in his smooth voice. “The final note to be observed is the matter of who will carry out the Fourth Debt.”

  The room tensed.

  “Jasmine will oversee the Final Debt, but Bryan Hawk has overridden the request for the right of Fourth Debt and granted it to Mr. Daniel.”

  Tension ricocheted out in a burst of savagery. “No way!” Jasmine glared at Cut. “Father, we agreed. You said she was mine. I’ve proven myself time and time again. Give her to me.”

  C
ut steepled his fingers, unruffled by her disorder. “There’s a method to why you won’t carry out the Fourth Debt, Jasmine.” His attention fell on Marshall. “Finish, please, then we can carry on to the next point on the agenda.”

  The next point?

  My God, what else could they discuss?

  I’d just learned I was the property of Jasmine with loopholes for Daniel to hurt me.

  Didn’t I have a say in any of this?

  Daniel snickered, capturing my hand and tugging it into his lap. “Guess we have a date, after all, little Weaver.” Raising my hand to his mouth, he kissed the back of my knuckles. “Including the matter of finishing the Third Debt.”

  I convulsed.

  Cut chuckled. “Oh, yes. Unfinished business.” His eyes narrowed. “Don’t think we’ve forgotten about that, Nila. You don’t wear the tally mark yet because it wasn’t completed. We’ll get to that a bit later, though. Give you some time to adjust.”

  My fingertip wearing Jethro’s initials itched. His mark still existed in this world while he didn’t. Would I continue to be marked in his name for debts extracted or would I wear DBH instead?

  Steeling my heart, I scoffed. “Gee, thanks. So thoughtful of you.”

  Daniel squeezed my hand. “Watch it.”

  Every molecule wanted to extract myself from his slimy, grip.

  Cole shuffled in his chair, barrelling through the air of hostility with a contemptuous look. “May I continue?”

  Cut nodded. “By all means.”

  Bonnie scoffed under her breath, the diamonds of her broaches gleaming like death rays.

  Cole looked back at the contract. “The first part of the Fourth Debt will be explained at Cut’s discretion.”

  First part?

  “And the second part, hereby known as the Fifth Debt, will be carried out by Daniel Hawk due to the nature and requirements of the debt.”

  Was there always a Fifth Debt or was that new?

  I trembled to think of more pain but I was glad in a bizarre way. It means I have more time to kill them before they kill me.

  “An able-bodied person must extract payment and…” His eyes fell on Jasmine, pity glowing. “…requires a journey not fit for someone in Ms. Hawk’s condition.”

  My back stiffened at the look he gave her—the look I’d seen so many people give others less fortunate than them.

 

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