My heart burst through my ribs. “Wh—what family?”
Don’t tell my bastard father.
I’d be poisoned or slaughtered before the day was done.
Doctor Louille reached for the phone on the white bedside table. Everything in the room was either white, glass, or light blue. A flat-screen TV hung on the wall, while a small table and chairs squashed in the corner.
“The woman who dropped you here, of course.” He gnawed on his bottom lip as he dialled a number and put the phone to his ear. He waited for it to connect. “Yes, hello, Ms. Ambrose? Yes, it’s Doctor Jack Louille calling.”
A pause.
“I have some good news. He’s just woken up. I’ll put him on.”
Covering the mouthpiece, he passed the phone to me. My mind whirled, trying to keep up. I shook my head. What if this was a trap? What if it was Bonnie?
The doctor didn’t take my hesitation as any sign to stop his persistence. “It’s your sister. She’s called every hour for the past few days. Get her off my back and let her know you’re okay.” Nudging the phone into my hands, he said, “Talk to her. Rest. I’ll be back later to answer any more questions and assess your pain levels. And keep your arse in bed, or else.”
My fingers curled around the phone.
No promises.
I was running as soon as I could breathe without wanting to throw up.
I trembled, battling tiredness and the thought of talking to someone still at Hawksridge, someone I loved, someone I’d failed as much as I’d failed Nila.
Waiting until the doctor and nurse had left, I held the phone to my mouth. “H—hello?”
The longest pause crackled in my ear.
“H—hello? You there?”
A sniff came down the line. “About bloody time, you bloody arse.”
My heart beat stronger.
I might have failed Nila.
I might have been dead for a few days.
But Jasmine had achieved the impossible. If she’d kept me alive, I had to trust she’d done the same for Nila.
“You al—always had a gr—great way with your t—temper, Jaz.”
“God, it’s truly you…” Her voice broke then she burst into noisy tears.
I found out later what she’d done for us. How she’d saved us. How Flaw had kept Kes and me alive long enough to smuggle us from the estate unseen. How he’d hidden us in the crypt, providing medicine, leaving us to slowly fossilize and turn into skeletons beneath the house I’d lived in all my life—working against the clock to get us somewhere safe.
I owed Flaw a huge debt. I would pay him handsomely. But I would also never underestimate my sister or take her for granted ever again. I couldn’t believe she’d willingly left Hawksridge.
After a lifetime of chaining herself to the Hall, she’d commandeered one of the many vehicles in our garage and somehow delivered Kes and me to the hospital. From the way the doctors spoke, it sounded as if she’d only just made it. Another hour or two and Kestrel would’ve been dead and me not long after.
How she managed to do that, I had no idea. The phone call had been brief, hushed—a quick catch-up so Bonnie wouldn’t overhear. Her relief had been genuine, but she’d also kept something from me.
Something I meant to find out.
After I hung up, the nurse had slipped back in and against my wishes fed more sedative into my drip.
I couldn’t try to run. I couldn’t assess how weak I was. All I could do was slip into empty dreams like some drugged arsehole. Nila didn’t come visit me and I awoke pissed and hurting a few hours later.
Kestrel stole my thoughts for the billionth time since I’d woken. My heart splintered for my brother.
According to Louille, he still hadn’t woken up. He was in intensive care and an induced coma. The bullet I’d saved Jaz from had been a clean shot. By Louille’s own admission, I was a ‘luckster’, a fluke of nature, a fucking miracle. No bones shattered, no organs ruptured. A single entry and exit wound leaving me bleeding and infected but otherwise intact.
But if I was a miracle, then that came with certain obligations and privileges.
Privileges I would call on in order to end the man who’d killed me.
Obligations I meant to uphold now I was free.
I’d returned from the dead.
And I’d bring the wrath of hell toward my enemies.
DIARY ENTRY, EMMA Weaver.
He told me tonight. Lying in my arms, believing he was safe, he told me what he did to his brother. Part of me can understand it—to spend a lifetime being told you’re second best, only to snap when something you want more than anything torments you. But another part of me could never understand because I could never be that selfish, self-centred, or cruel. One thing is for sure—his children are damned. Even the ones not infected with his madness are ruined because of what their father did to their mother and uncle.
A shrill ringing pierced my concentration.
No!
I had to find out what Cut did. Why were Jethro and his siblings damned? What the hell happened all those years ago?
Three days had passed. Three nights where I slept in sheets fading with Jethro’s scent. Three mornings where I’d paced and fretted and begged. Daniel had been offsite, leaving me to boredom rather than torture. I hadn’t seen Vaughn or Cut, and I’d been kept isolated, locked inside my room like a true prisoner.
Wasting three days in limbo was sacrilege. I wanted vengeance. However, my mind couldn’t stop swimming with worry. Jethro, Jethro, Jethro. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else was important.
The discordant ringing persisted; I wrenched my eyes from the remaining blank page. There was no more. My mother had left the mystery unsolved.
The Weaver Journal was the only thing with the power to steal me away from repeating thoughts of Jethro. However, reading the journal’s pages gave me the strangest sensation—as if I’d lifted up the veil of time and looked at Hawksridge in a capsule of then and now. Hearing about Jethro when he was young, about Bryan loving my mother, and even Bonnie thanking Emma for making her dresses—it was surreal.
Wrong.
Ring. Ring. Ring!
Tossing away the journal, I scrambled out of bed. Dashing across the room, I peered at yards of apricot fleece, searching for the origin of the ringing. Pushing aside fabric and opening a small cubby inside the storage cupboard, I found the source.
What on earth? Why have I never seen this before?
Plucking the phone off its tarnished cradle, I held it to my ear. “Hello?”
Instantly, a female voice said, “He’s awake.”
My knees gave out.
Slamming against the dresser, I clutched the edge. Adrenaline drenched my system like a tropical rainstorm. No matter how much I’d prayed and hoped he’d stay alive, I hadn’t truly believed it.
“Are—are you sure?” My voice was quiet as a mouse. “How can you be sure?”
Don’t give me false hope. I won’t be able to stand it.
“I’m sure.” Jaz sniffed happily. “I spoke to him myself.”
My heart leapt over mountains of joy. Bending forward, I placed my forehead on trembling hands. “Thank heavens.”
Jaz didn’t speak for a moment.
I stayed silent, too.
Both of us breathed loudly, living in happiness bought with hard-earned fortune.
Things would be better now.
Letting the knowledge settle, I focused on the other man in my heart. “V…did you move him?”
“Yes. He’s in a different room. Warm with regular food.” She paused. “I’ll keep an eye on him. I promise.”
I squeezed my eyes. “Thank you.”
An awkward silence fell, amplifying our unspoken need to talk about Jethro.
Jethro is still heir. He’ll end this. I know he will.
“Jasmine? How—how long—?”
How long will he be gone?
I was greedy. He’d been awake for only minu
tes, yet I wanted him now. I wanted to touch him, kiss him, hold him—cradle the truth in my hands. But that wasn’t my only reason. The real reason sat like a sinister splodge on my joy. How long will I have to endure Cut’s whims?
I’d been lucky these past three days. I had no illusion that luck would last.
Jasmine read between the lines. “How long is irrelevant. You’re mine. I’ll do what I promised, Nila.”
Fresh tears sparked into being. “I know.”
You’ll do your best, but ultimately, I’m alone.
Just like I’d been alone when Jethro controlled my fate. I guess nothing had changed. It was still up to me to slice out their loathsome hearts.
“And Ke—” I cut myself off. Stay in riddles and code. Who knew what lines were tapped and which walls had ears. “The other one…is he awake?”
Jasmine sighed heavily. “No.”
The single word throbbed with sadness, giving no room for questions.
A loud rustle, then a quick, “I’ve got to go.” A second later, the dial tone rang loud and empty.
Pushing away from the cupboard, I placed the phone back onto its cradle. Her phone call left me jumpy with hope and desolate with sorrow. I wanted them both to make it—hearing only Jethro was awake was bittersweet.
He’s awake!
I hugged myself.
He hasn’t left me.
Slowly, I padded toward the bed where I’d set down the Weaver Journal. At the last second, I changed my mind. I couldn’t handle reading about ancient conspiracies and pain. I needed to cleanse my thoughts with something I had utter control over.
Switching direction to the chaise lounge, I upended the basket where I’d stuffed a damask panel and Georgian lace.
He’s awake.
Those two words were now my favourite in the entire English language. I smoothed out the damask and pulled a needle free from a pincushion.
He’s awake.
Better than alive.
He’s awake.
Fate had finally been kind—the tables had finally turned.
Everything will be different now.
Cut, Daniel, and Bonnie would take Jethro and Kestrel’s place in the ground. The balance of good and evil would right itself. And Vaughn and I would continue with whatever dreams we had with no guillotine hanging over our future.
Switching on another side lamp, I bent to my task of repairing the lace with painstaking needlework. It wasn’t late, but the sun had set a few hours ago and Hawksridge creaked around me, depositing its residents into the night. The growls of motorbikes shattered the wintery air, Black Diamonds disappearing to run another smuggling delivery.
I lost myself in the exquisite craftsmanship, giving myself over to scattered thoughts. Jaz and Vaughn’s rescue mission had gone unnoticed. Flaw had done the impossible. Jethro had cheated death.
We won.
Could Cut tell? Could he feel that his sons weren’t dead?
It didn’t matter.
His arrogance was his undoing.
Tick tock. Tick tock.
His time is running out.
“She wants you, Nila.”
My head snapped up.
My room was no longer empty. It had invited a visitor while I napped on the chaise. The lace I’d been working on littered the carpet and the needle harpooned my denim skirt, sticking upward like a tiny lance.
Flaw headed toward me, hands in his pockets. “Did you hear me?”
I blinked.
By day, I left the dresser pushed away from the doorway in case legitimate requests meant I had to open it quickly. But by night, I shoved the heavy armoire across, allowing a false sense of safety.
How long have I been asleep?
Sunshine sparkled on the horizon, turning my side lamp mute with fresh daylight.
Oh, my God, I slept all night?
I didn’t feel rested. I felt tired and foggy.
Jethro…
He’d been in my thoughts all day. All night. All my life.
He’s awake!
I missed him so much—missed his golden eyes, his hesitant smile. I missed the epiphany when he finally broke and let me put him back together again.
I miss you…
“Nila…you awake or sleep walking?” Flaw clicked his fingers in front of my face.
I flinched. “I’m awake. Sorry, just a bit fuzzy.”
“When was the last time you slept properly?”
I shrugged, plucking the needle from my skirt and stabbing it into the pincushion. “Can’t remember.” My eyes burned from tiredness; wooziness existed in my brain.
He scowled. “You do realise they’re safe. You can relax a bit without grief ruining your sleep.”
Standing, my body creaked in protest from sleeping on the chaise. I stumbled forward with vertigo and my cell-phone thudded to the carpet by my feet.
Huh. I don’t remember retrieving it from my bedside.
Flaw stayed silent as I blinked away my illness and collected it from the floor. I must’ve grabbed it while dreaming, hoping for a text.
Did he message?
I swiped it on.
Nothing.
No messages. No calls. No emails.
I’ve been completely forgotten.
Some part of me hoped that now Jethro was awake, he’d text me. That for the first time in months, we’d talk like we had before this mess started. Kite to Threads. Inbox to inbox.
“Has he been in touch?” Flaw glanced at my phone.
My lungs deflated; I shook my head. “No.” Brushing stray hair from my eyes, I said, “I heard that he’s awake, though. You?”
A slight smile tilted his lips. “Yes. She told me.”
I smiled back. I’d entered Hawksridge believing everyone was my enemy. Turned out, only a few people were worthy of that title. Most of them were kind and honourable, wrapped up in their own issues, but ultimately generous and just like any stranger—frightening and mysterious until the boundary of no acquaintance distorted into friendship.
Kes had proven that. Then Jasmine. And now Flaw.
I knew all along I could win Jethro.
In a way, I think I’d known he was mine ever since I was young.
Once this was all over, I wanted to find out how many times we’d met. How many instances we’d spoken in our childhood—being groomed for our roles.
“Anyway.” Flaw swayed on his heels. “I’m not here for a social call. Been instructed to bring you to her majesty.”
My eyes widened. “What?”
“Not the Queen of England.” He smirked. “The Queen of Hawksridge.” Jamming his hands deeper into his pockets, his eyes darkened. “She wants a word.”
“A word or a beating?” I clutched my phone. “A conversation with the old bat, alone, isn’t high on my list of priorities.”
If you’re alone, though, you could kill her.
The thought welded me to the carpet.
“I wouldn’t recommend calling her ‘old bat’ in person, if I were you.”
My mind ran away, forgetting Flaw existed. The only way I could kill those who needed to die was to be strategic. I couldn’t do it around others. I couldn’t do it in plain sight. I had to be sneaky and wily and smart.
Every night, I stared into the darkness, using the black emptiness as a chalkboard for my plotting. I wished I had a treadmill in my room. Running always helped me problem solve. But even though my body remained stationary, it didn’t mean my mind did.
I’d never been so enamoured with death before or so hyped on hypothetical murder.
I knew from television to expect copious amounts of blood and a struggle if I stabbed my victims to death. I also knew that strength would mean nothing against Cut and Daniel, so I had to have the element of surprise.
A gun would’ve solved my problems, but the noise and lack of experience in aiming could potentially be my downfall.
All opportunities led to one conclusion…I had to be quick and quiet. I had to
be ruthless. And it had to look like an accident or remain hidden long enough to steal three lives before I was slaughtered in retribution.
I can’t kill Bonnie.
Not yet. It had to be Daniel or Cut first…then her.
She’ll be my last.
“You better go. I doubt she’ll make allowances for lateness even if you haven’t written her on your social calendar.” Flaw’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “New day. New psychological plague to administer.”
I narrowed my gaze. “Ha-ha. Not funny.”
Taking a deep breath, I placed my cell-phone on the end of the bed. “I guess I have no choice.” Spinning to face him, I gathered my long hair and secured it in a messy ponytail with an elastic band from my wrist. “Did she say why at least?”
“Do I look like I have tea and crumpets with the fucking woman?” Flaw rolled his eyes. “All I was told was to get you.” He held up his hands. “And no, I don’t have insider knowledge like I did with the lawyers. This time, you’re on your own.”
His eyes skated down my white jumper with a filigree seahorse and denim skirt. “I, eh…don’t have to tell you what happened a few days ago has to remain secret…no matter what she, eh…does?”
My heart spiralled into a tailspin. “What are you saying? She’ll torture me?”
I was no stranger to pain but deliberate extraction of information through agony? How long can I endure something like that?
He stiffened. “If she knew you had something you weren’t telling…I wouldn’t put it past her.” Coming closer, the strain around his mouth and eyes was prevalent.
I’m not the only one not sleeping.
“I don’t need to tell you how—”
“How important it is that those who shall not be named remain dead? Yes, I understand.” I placed my hand on his arm. “I won’t tattle. What you did to help them has firmly earned my loyalty. My lips are sealed.”
The air in the room turned heavy with seriousness. “I’d understand if she did something to make you tell.”
I blanched. “You think I’ll crack? I’m in love with him. There’s no way in hell I would jeopardise their lives.”
Fourth Debt Page 13