Third Debt

by Pepper Winters

  “How—how do you know that?”

  His teeth gleamed with anger and commitment. “I looked into his background. Pulled a few favours to find out if there’s been inconsistent spending in his accounts.”

  “Wow—”

  “Eh, Jet?” A figure appeared from the blackness.

  I jumped. However, instead of cowering behind Jethro like I would’ve a few months ago, seeking protection and others to save me, I unthinkingly placed myself in front of him. My arms up, fists curled, teeth bared in defiance.

  I might be almost broken, but I protected those I loved.

  The hunchback came closer, skulking from the shadows. “Impressive stance, Nila. But if you mean to follow through with a punch, make sure your thumb is on the outside of your fingers. Otherwise, you’ll break it.”

  I narrowed my eyes as the figure dumped two duffels from his shoulders to cobblestones. The dense fabric slapped loudly in the night silence.

  “Flaw?”

  A low chuckle reached my ears as he stepped from the darkness. “Hi, Nila.” His eyes skated over me, widening with understanding of what Jethro and I had gotten up to.

  Jethro hugged me from behind, planting a kiss on my cheek. “I didn’t think I could love you any more than I do. You just proved me wrong. Thank you for protecting me.”

  My heart burst.

  Letting me go, he skirted in front of me and held out his hand. “Once again, you’ve earned my thanks.”

  Flaw nodded, shaking Jethro’s grip. “Jasmine’s been told. I’ve got what you asked, and nobody is the wiser.” His eyes fell on me. “I can take you back to the estate, Nila. Give you an alibi if anyone’s up at this ungodly hour.” Fishing in his pocket, he held up a key. “I have the key to your room.”

  Jethro rubbed his chin. “That might not be a bad idea. Just think up a decent excuse.” He narrowed his gaze in my direction. “You’ve been sick with the flu—you can’t deny it—I can still hear it in your lungs. Use that as a reason for midnight wanderings. You needed medicine.” His face darkened. “Which I doubt you asked for while you suffered.”

  I looked away. “What I do when you’re not around is my business. Just like you getting shot and making us all believe you were dead is yours.”

  Hear what I’m saying? That I’m not a victim anymore—I’ll stand up for myself regardless if you’re there to help me or not.

  Jethro clenched his jaw.

  Flaw laughed. “Tension in paradise, huh?”

  Growling under his breath, Jethro changed the subject. “Did you manage to catch him okay?”

  Flaw grinned, his strong jaw shaded in dark stubble. “Bit of a bugger to start with but nothing a handful of oats couldn’t overcome.” Pointing at the bags, he added, “Medical supplies in that one. Along with water and food enough for a week. Clothing, tent, and survival stuff in that one. I doubt you’ll want to make a fire in case they see the plume, so I brought a gas heater to cook on and to keep you warm, along with an electric blanket that’s solar-powered.”

  My eyes widened. “Wait, why does he need all that?”

  Jethro turned to me. “Because you might be going back into the Hall alone, but I made a promise that I’d never leave you again.” He took my hand, guiding me away from Flaw and outside where the moon drenched the forecourt. Before it’d been empty and silent. Now Wings stood patiently, saddled and bridled, his back hoof cocked with boredom.

  Seeing the black beast caused hope to explode all over again.

  I whirled in Jethro’s arms. “You’re staying close by?”

  “Staying on the grounds. Yes.” Pulling out a silver phone, his eyes darkened. “I’ll send you messages. I sent you a couple yesterday that you didn’t reply to. Did they take your phone away?”

  No, I was just trapped in the Heretic’s Fork and tormented.

  I shook my head. “I haven’t checked it. I keep it hidden—just in case.”

  “You have to stay in constant contact now,” he growled. I need to know where you are, that you’re okay. Otherwise, I’ll lose my fucking mind.”

  My heart reacted like a love-struck teenager. “I must admit, I’m very impressed you remembered my number.”

  Jethro smirked, the first lighthearted reaction since he’d returned. “I haven’t forgotten anything about you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I suppose that’s only fair seeing as I remember your number, too. I used to repeat it over and over again as I fell asleep.” The seemingly normal part of dating, of secret messaging, and the delicious joy of finding that the person you were in love with felt the same way glowed inside.

  He truly does love me.

  It wasn’t a projection of my love. Not a mirror or mirage.

  It’s true.

  I’d never been more thankful.

  He stepped closer, eyes hooded. “I can recite everything about you. If someone asked me how you tasted, I’d have the perfect description. If someone ordered me to list every freckle, I’d have the exact number. And if anyone wanted to know how brilliantly perfect you are—or hear about any of your accomplishments—I’d be able to regale them for hours.” He wrapped his arms around me. “I’ll never forget anything because it’s the little things that make you real.”

  Flaw chuckled. “Good God, man, you have no shame.”

  I wanted him to bugger off. My heart disintegrated and my core clenched to have Jethro inside me again. I was wet, wanting.

  Jethro laughed. “I’m not embarrassed to be honest for the first time in my life. This woman is mine. I love her, and I don’t fucking care who knows it.”

  I blushed. My soul ached at the thought of him leaving. He couldn’t leave me. Not now. Not now we’d been honest and finally talked outside of debts and pain. “Don’t go…we can work out something else. Stay…please.”

  Jethro’s smile fell, sadness cloaking him. “I have to. Another day or so and then we’ll be safe to do whatever we want, go wherever we please.” Taking my hands, he squeezed tightly. “Go now, Nila. I need you to return.” Looking over his shoulder, he held out his hand.

  Flaw came forward and dropped the key into his palm.

  Jethro gave it to me. “On second thought, it might be best if you go on your own. Tell them Jasmine gave you the key because she often has tasks for you outside the realm of Cut’s requirements.” His voice cracked with frustration. “I wish to God I didn’t have to make you do this. But I promise it will all be over soon.”

  Flaw muttered, “Cut’s been pretty fucking happy the past couple of weeks. Been a lot more lenient with the Black Diamond brothers. Doubt he’ll cause any trouble for the next two days.”

  Jethro sneered, “I guess killing his troublemaking sons makes everything hunky-fucking-dory in his world.” Kissing me one last time, he urged me toward the Hall. “Go now. I’ll message you when everything is in place and tell you where to go.”

  I opened my mouth to argue—to demand he keep me with him. Wherever he was going, I deserved to be by his side. “Jethro—”

  I don’t think I can do this...

  He groaned, yanking me back to him. “God, I’ll miss you.” His mouth slammed on mine, kissing me roughly. As sudden as he claimed me, he relinquished me. “Leave. I love you.”

  As much as I wanted to argue, the desperation in his gaze forced me to obey.

  I had no other option.

  I’m strong enough to do this.

  He would keep me safe.

  I trust him.

  To prove that I did, I turned my back on him and returned alone to Hawksridge Hall.

  I didn’t look back.

  I should’ve looked back.

  I did as he asked.

  I shouldn’t have done what he asked.

  I climbed the small hill and turned to hell.

  Dawn did its best to push aside the moon; the ground glittered with blades of frost. My heart was a lump of snow by the time I ascended the front entrance.

  It was the hardest thing to ask of
me—to willingly go back.

  I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to forgive him if he betrayed my trust.

  If something happens…

  I shook my head.

  Nothing will happen.

  Two days…it’s nothing.

  Pausing on the stoop of the Hall, I glanced fleetingly behind me.

  There, on the horizon, was the faint outline of a black horse and its rider disappearing into the woods.

  Jethro was gone.

  I should never have let him go.

  I should’ve run in the opposite direction.

  I obeyed because I trusted him.

  I should never have trusted him.

  Unfortunately, I was right.

  Two days was too long.

  In two days, my world would end.

  MY NEW HOME.

  For the next thirty or so hours.

  I surveyed my camp. Wings stood tethered to a tree and my tent stood sentry in the small glen. It’d taken an hour or so to set up—it would’ve been less if my body wasn’t low on fuel and the pain from my wound hadn’t decided to make itself known.

  Payback for ignoring the warning signs while proving to Nila that I was strong and capable and deserving of her trust.

  Louille would have a fucking fit if he knew what I’d done only hours after checking myself out from the hospital.

  I swore under my breath, prodding the fresh blood stain on my side. The stitches had done their job and knitted me together, but at the very edge the skin had torn slightly. A throb resonated from rib to lung.

  Oh, well. It was a good test to judge what I’m able to do.

  Not to mention, I would do it all over again even if my side burst open mid-thrust. Nila consumed my every thought, my every sense. I’d only been away from her for sixty minutes, yet I missed her as if it’d been sixty years.

  Opening the front zipper on the duffel, I pulled out some extra strength painkillers. Popping a few, I swallowed them dry and returned to securing the last peg of the tent.

  I didn’t know why I bothered. I wouldn’t sleep. I could never rest knowing Nila was in the Hall being mentally and physically tortured.

  How fucking dare they use the Heretic’s Fork and cut off her hair? How dare they fucking think they had that right?

  Insane, the lot of them.

  If I was stronger and had better odds, I would’ve stormed Hawksridge tonight and slaughtered my father in his bed. But he had the Black Diamonds on his side. He had an army where I did not.

  I wouldn’t kill myself by being stupid.

  I’d been stupid for long enough already.

  I was home.

  This was my empire, and I’d had enough of my family’s madness.

  Throwing the smaller duffel inside the tent, I crawled in after it. This campsite wasn’t a stranger to me. I’d spent many nights huddled in the glen away from the Hall—away from screaming tempers, guilt-infested excuses, and anger-laden requirements.

  When Cut tossed me out to make it to the boundary in the dead of winter, I wouldn’t have survived if I hadn’t already self-taught how to build shelter, hunt, and navigate. I liked my little sanctuary. If I’d had the strength to climb, I could’ve forgone the flimsy tent and scaled the boughs of an ancient oak tree where I’d built a tree fort in my youth.

  I used to take Kes and Jaz there before we were old enough to know our duties.

  Before life ruined us.

  It was barely sunrise, but by tomorrow morning, I hoped to change the future of Hawksridge. I wouldn’t just have the glen for peace and safety; I’d have the entire estate.

  I’d finally have what was mine.

  No waiting for my thirtieth. No obeying a psychopath.

  Not anymore.

  Twenty-four hours to put into place the rest of my life.

  Another few hours to implement it.

  I’d told Nila two days. I would stick to that promise.

  Taking a deep breath, I hoisted myself onto the fold-out stretcher. Flaw had truly come through for me. He’d even packed a small generator so I could charge my phone and keep a light against the slowly creeping dawn.

  Goosebumps covered my body, hidden below the thick parka Flaw had given me at the hospital. Winter had well and truly taken hold, determined to remind me that once upon a time I’d welcomed the frost. I’d mimicked winter by absorbing its ice and doing my best to freeze out other emotions.

  It was like an old friend, a new enemy, a family member I no longer needed for help.

  Grabbing the small electric heater stuffed into the bottom of the duffel, I plugged it into the generator and placed it by my feet. My body didn’t have the reserves it needed to keep warm—not while most of my cells focused on healing my side.

  My thoughts drifted to Nila.

  Had she arrived at her quarters safely? Was she warm in bed, thinking of me—reliving my fingers inside her, my tongue sweeping hers?

  “Shit.” Shaking my head, I did my best to force those thoughts away. My cock was far too eager to attempt a third time.

  It didn’t work.

  Nila’s moans echoed in my mind. Her voice vibrated in my ears as she admitted she loved me.

  How am I supposed to concentrate?

  Nila was replaced with images of Kestrel—slowly dying alone in a strange hospital. Then my father leapt into my head, laughing, tormenting.

  He’d never grown out of the spoiled brat syndrome—just like Daniel.

  I didn’t know the full story of how my father became heir, but my mother had dropped hints. Emma, too—when she was alive. Cut was many things, but he’d told some of his darkest secrets to Emma, knowing they’d die with her with no repercussions.

  Livid rage heated my veins, better than any heater.

  Now, he’ll pay.

  And I knew exactly how I’d do it.

  Pulling out my phone, I sent a message to Nila.

  Unknown Number: I love you with every breath and heartbeat. Stay true to yourself. Trust me. You’re strong enough; you’re brave enough. You’re my inspiration to end this. Don’t give up on me, Nila. Two days and it’s over.

  I didn’t wait for a reply. Waiting would drive me crazy and horrid conclusions would consume me. I had to trust that Jasmine would keep Nila safe and allow me to do what was needed.

  Reaching into the duffel, I pulled out the little black address book I’d kept hidden in my room. I’d given Flaw directions on where to retrieve it when he collected me. An address book was archaic nowadays with phones and computers, but I’d never been more thankful for old-fashioned practices.

  I had no clue where my old phone was. This was my last record.

  Flicking through the dog-eared pages, I sighed with relief, grateful for contacts I could rely on. Men I’d met and were loyal to me, not my father. Men who were ruthless in their own right. Men who could help me win against Cut and his legalities.

  My eyes skipped over numbers for acquaintances I’d met on smuggling routes. Outlaws and pioneers, tanker captains and bribed coastguards.

  I might have a need for them in the future, but not for this.

  I had one man in mind.

  There it is.

  Arthur ‘Kill’ Killian, Pure Corruption MC.

  I doubted many heirs to an English estate would have the personal contact of a president of an American motorcycle club.

  But, thank fuck, I did.

  Inputting the number, I pressed call on the phone and held it to my ear.

  The line crackled, lacking a proper signal in the woods—struggling to connect Buckinghamshire to Florida.

  The ringing stopped, followed by a loud screech. “You’ve reached Kill.”

  My hand tightened around the phone. “Hawk calling.”

  A pause, followed by some shuffling. “Hang on. Let me get somewhere private.”

  “Sure.”

  I waited for faint voices to fade; Killian came back on the line. “What’s up?”

  “I need your hel
p. Do you have trusted brothers in the UK?”

  “I might. Why?”

  “I need your help overthrowing someone. Give me some men, don’t ask questions, and our alliance will be cemented for whatever you need in the future. Diamonds, smuggling—you name it. It’s yours.”

  Now wasn’t the time to mention that when I was in power, I planned on ceasing that side of the business. Diamonds to me were covered in blood and death. I wanted no part in it.

  Silence for a moment.

  Kill growled, “Give me a few hours. I’ll see what I can do.”

  He hung up.

  Phase one complete.

  The next part of my strategy would be tricky, but I had no alternative. I didn’t spread myself over Plan A or Plan B. This first attempt was my only attempt.

  It will work.

  Refreshing the screen, I dialled another number—one I’d never called before—but knew by heart because of our association.

  It rang and rang.

  A dawn phone call wouldn’t be acceptable to anyone, but if he knew what was good for him, he’d answer it.

  Finally, a sleepy, almost drunk, voice answered, “Hello?”

  My heart squeezed to think my family had browbeaten this proud business owner into the spineless grieving father he’d become. We’d won over his family—more times than I could count. “Tex Weaver?”

  He sucked in a breath. Rustling sounded; his voice lost its haziness. “You. You have the fucking nerve to call me after what you’ve done.” He coughed, his temper howling down the line. “I’ll fucking kill you with my bare hands. Where’s my son? My daughter?”

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  Tex raged, “The time for talking is done. I’m sick of it. Sick of all your threats and promises. You took my Emma but I won’t let you take our kids.” Breathing hard, he snarled, “I’ve put things in place, Hawk. I’m ending this. Once and for all.”

  I plucked an oak leaf from the tent floor. “I know what you’ve been doing, Tex.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Won’t stop me. Not this time. You can’t scare me away like you did with Emma. I’ll die before I let you hurt my children anymore.”