Daniel stood over us, arms crossed; his lips twisted in a sadistic laugh. “Fucking cocksucker deserved it.”
Jethro let out an agonising cry. My attention split from my twin to my soul-mate. Cut kicked him, his fists clenched and ready to rain. “I saw the fucking video, Kite.” Cut’s voice was death and eyes evil incarnate. “Kes might know computers, but did you honestly think I wouldn’t notice!”
Everything happened too fast. Way, way too fast.
What is going on?!
“Stop!” Jethro shouted, bracing himself for another kick. “Let me explain.”
“Explain?” Cut laughed coldly. “Explain the fact that you drugged Daniel and me, then proceeded to splice a fucking video of Emma Weaver. You had the fucking nerve to trick me into believing we’d had a turn with Nila?”
Vaughn choked, his face turning ghostly. “What—what are they talking about, Threads?”
As much as I feared for my brother, my loyalties were to Jethro first. He was my family as much as V was. I staggered to my feet, balling my hands. “Don’t take it out on him. It was my idea.”
Cut paused, his eyes spinning with hatred. “Your idea?” He stalked forward. “Your idea. So you were the stupid one to believe I didn’t imprint every moment of that night. I remember everything about Emma. I have fucking dreams of using her. Do you think I wouldn’t fucking notice!”
My heart split with a thousand swords, thinking of my mother being hurt by Cut. But that was the past. She was gone. I couldn’t save her anymore. But I could save Jethro and V. They were mine to protect—mine to rescue.
“I’m sorry! Just forget it. Leave my brother alone and don’t hurt Jethro anymore.”
Cut dragged hands through his hair, shaking his head with abhorrent disbelief. “You think I’ll listen to you? Why should I, bitch? What will you give me in return?”
Jethro stumbled to his knees, wrapping an arm around his side. Every breath rattled in his lungs like broken china. “Don’t, Nila. It was my idea. My mistake.” Speaking to Cut, he glared. “Do whatever you want with me, but leave her the fuck out of it. Kill me. End the Debt Inheritance. Let this all be over!”
Cut whirled on his firstborn. “This isn’t over until I say it’s over.” Pointing a livid finger at me, Cut snarled, “She didn’t pay. The Third Debt was never completed.”
Daniel stepped in front of me, slapping me hard on the cheek. My head whipped, and a vertigo wave made me trip sideways. “You fucking drugged us. That’s against the rules.”
“Leave her alone, you bastard!” V shouted, trying unsuccessfully to climb to his feet.
Vertigo attacked harder. I swallowed, doing my best not to vomit. My cheek ached but it was nothing compared to the pressuring terror building inside.
I cried, “Just let him go!”
Please, end this. Someone save this disaster, before it’s too late.
“Don’t touch him!” I shouted again. “Please, leave him alone.”
Daniel snickered. “Leave who alone, princess? Your pussy brother or my brother who you’re fucking and no one else?”
Vaughn threw himself at Daniel’s legs. With a yelp, Daniel punched him but fell sideways, landing on the carpet. The fight didn’t last long. Vaughn was strong and stayed fit with regular gym visits, but it was nothing compared to Daniel’s manic insanity.
Rolling away, Daniel kicked him right in the jaw.
V crumpled.
My heart shattered. “No!”
“What on earth is the kerfuffle in here?” a prim, papery voice said.
All eyes turned on the recent addition to the parlour.
Bonnie Hawk.
Her attention surveyed her son, grandsons, and me before smiling coldly. Leaning heavily on a brand new walking stick, she snapped her fingers. “Jasmine. Kestrel. Would you come and join us, please?”
The sudden madness seemed to cease—her appearance granted a strange kind of peace to the battleground. She acted as if we’d all popped by for tea and cakes, completely ignoring or not caring that blood stained the pristine carpet and my brother was unconscious at her feet.
My heart stuck in tar as Jasmine rolled sedately into the room. Her bronze eyes hid her terror, but her face couldn’t hide her dislike. She didn’t look away from Jethro.
Jethro looked back at his sister, hanging his head in shame.
Kestrel came into the room, his hands tied behind his back, his face a mismatch of purple, black, and blue.
He gave me a sad smile, flicking his attention between Jethro, V, and his father.
“Glad you could join us,” Cut snarled, glaring at his offspring.
Jasmine sat taller in her chair, her pink angora jumper matching the deep rose of the blanket thrown over her legs. “Father, don’t do this. Think about what this will—”
“He knows the consequences, child,” Bonnie interrupted. “And he’s accepted the payment as a necessary sacrifice.” Her matching skirt and blazer were black, as if she were already in mourning. A string of pearls graced her throat, bobbing with every swallow. Her eyes landed on Cut. “It’s your decision, son.”
Cut nodded, getting his temper under control, slipping back into a ruthless, terrifying man with far too much power.
I trembled, trying to work out the dynamics in the room.
What is going on?
No answers came, and in a seamless move, Cut reached behind him and pulled free a pistol.
My heart stopped.
I stood transfixed in the centre, stuck between Jethro and Vaughn. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t decide who was the most at risk of a madman waving a gun.
“Help him up, will you, Daniel?” Cut pointed the muzzle at Jethro.
I blinked back another vertigo spell as I darted forward. “No!”
Cut trained the gun on me. “Do not move, Ms. Weaver.”
Daniel obeyed, grabbing Jethro under his arms, yanking him upright. The moment he was on his feet, Jethro bent forward, looking like he would throw up or pass out. Sweat darkened his hair, his naked thighs bunched with effort to remain standing. He looked so defenceless in a t-shirt and boxer-briefs—clear evidence that we’d broken every rule and slept together.
Cut cocked the weapon, glaring at his son. “I’m going to give you one last choice, Jethro.”
Jethro shook his head, smacking his lips. “No more choices. Just kill me and let the Weavers go.” His eyes flickered to my unconscious brother. “Both of them.”
Daniel snickered—completely in his element. Bonnie just watched while Jasmine and Kes remained mute with nerves.
No one spoke. No one wanted to bring attention to themselves while Cut wielded a gun.
“One more choice,” Cut repeated. “You better choose wisely.” Planting his stance in the thick carpet, he raised the weapon.
Jasmine whimpered as the muzzle pointed at Kes. “Father, please…don’t do this. We love you. We’re your children!”
“Silence,” Bonnie commanded. “You will do as I say, child. No more talking without permission.”
Jasmine seemed to wilt, but her shoulders remained defiant.
Kestrel puffed out his chest, facing death with the decorum of any worthy fighter. “You’ll never live with yourself if you do this,” he muttered. “I’m your son.”
Cut bared his teeth. “You ceased being my son the moment you uploaded the atrocity of a video and thought I was so fucking stupid to buy it.” His head whipped to Jethro. “Choose, Jet!”
“I don’t know what you want me to do!” Jethro yelled. “You expect me to name a sibling for you to murder? Why would I when it was all my fault? They had nothing to do with this. Nothing!”
Cut stiffened, closing his eye to aim.
I ran forward—to do what? Who knew. But I was too late.
“Wrong choice.” His finger squeezed the trigger.
The gunpowder ignited.
The room ricocheted with noise.
A bullet leapt from the gun, tearing faster than sight to lodge into a Hawk offspring.
“No!” Jethro bellowed, charging forward.
A flare of red appeared on Kestrel’s chest the second before he collapsed to his knees. His face went blank with shock, lips round with disbelief.
“You never had a choice,” Cut murmured, aiming at his daughter.
Jethro moved the second Cut pulled the trigger.
I saw it all.
I felt it all.
One moment, Jethro was alive. His heart beating. His soul linked with mine.
The next, he threw himself in front of his wheelchair-bound sister, accepting the bullet into his own body.
I didn’t react for the longest moment.
I couldn’t believe the story before me.
He couldn’t be dead.
He can’t be dead.
He’s not dead!
I staggered forward, my hands clamping over my mouth.
He cannot be dead!
Jasmine screamed as her brother fell over her, his torso slamming against her atrophied legs, his knees crashing to the carpet.
And then he rolled.
He rolled off his beloved sister, lying face down on the carpet.