Final Debt

I kept my secret while my heart warmed, rolling around in the truth.

He’s alive.

Looping my fingers over his wrist, I held on while he imprisoned my throat. “It’s yours now—if you behave and follow what Cut tells you, of course. But something makes me think you’ve always been happier here.” I cocked my head. “Why is that? Because it’s away from Bonnie, perhaps? It can’t be because Jasmine doesn’t come here. I don’t see you interact, but she’s harmless.”

As if.

Jasmine terrified me.

He didn’t answer, shoving me back and wiping his hands.

I tried again. “Jethro was hurt because of his condition. Jasmine was disabled for something I don’t understand. Kes was tolerated because he kept the peace. But you…you…” I gasped. “I know. You were the mistake. The third son—the unneeded backup to an inheritance that already had two heirs.”

Daniel suddenly exploded. His palm struck my cheek. “Shut the fuck up. I’m. Not. A. Mistake.”

I gasped against the pain, fighting an ocean of heat.

He could hit me. But he couldn’t deny it. The way he argued throbbed with past history and conviction. How many times had he been called that? How many times had it undermined his place in the family and turned him into this evil creature?

Holding my cheek, I muttered, “I didn’t say I thought you were a mistake. I asked if that was why you prefer it here.” I rubbed my flaming skin. “You’re his child. Same as all his children. It wasn’t right to make you feel any less than them.”

“Stop with the fucking psychoanalyzing. You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” Imprisoning my wrist again, he hauled me toward a large canvas tent.

I went with him—what choice did I have? But I did have a deeper understanding of my nemesis now. His childlike hatred. His out of control temperament. He might not have a soul to implore but once upon a time…he did. He was just a kid. An unwanted kid who did everything he could to be accepted.

The similarities with Jethro didn’t escape my notice. The only difference was Jethro allowed himself to finally change, improve…see his own self-worth.

“It wasn’t Cut who told you first, was it?” I couldn’t stop my runaway mouth. But this might be my only chance at understanding Daniel enough to defeat him.

He didn’t turn to look; his footsteps moved faster. “Shut up. Before I make you.”

“It was Bonnie, wasn’t it? She’s the one who told you you were a mistake.”

What are you doing?

Our pace increased and my eyes sought out escape paths. Climbing the few steps onto the wraparound deck, the fabric tent wasn’t a temporary abode. It’d been swallowed by the ground and had become part of the landscape with outdoor chairs, a veranda, internal reception room, bedroom, and bathroom.

Breathing hard, Daniel ducked and dragged me from mud to carpet, moving forward into a large bedroom with alcoves. Immediately, my gaze dropped to the bed.

I swallowed my heart.

Daniel chuckled. “If you want to ask questions, get your fucking facts straight first. Yes, I always knew I would get shit having two brothers in front of me. Yes, I wasn’t planned and Cut had great pleasure in telling me that my life is a fucking gift and to be thankful. But that isn’t the reason why he’s such a bastard.”

Wishing I could put some distance between us, I whispered, “Why?”

Daniel stepped closer, pressing his chest against mine. “Because she didn’t love him. She never loved him—no matter what he did. And that fucking screwed him up.”

“Who didn’t love him?”

“Rose.”

“Who’s Rose?”

“Peter’s wife.”

“Peter?” My mind raced, grasping at half-remembered recollections.

Daniel growled, “Fuck, you are stupid. Cut’s brother. That’s why Bonnie never liked us. We weren’t supposed to exist. Get it? Cut stole Peter’s wife behind his back. He got her pregnant.”

My mouth hung open. “Is that why Cut killed him? To not only claim the inheritance but the heirs, too?”

Daniel shook his head. “No, he killed him because Bonnie told him to. She pretends like Cut betrayed her, but once she knew Rose was pregnant, she changed the game. She’s always fucking changing the game.”

My mind swam. “So—”

“No more fucking questions.” Grabbing my chin, he forced me to look at the bed. His dark laugh sounded forced but evil. “Gonna put that to use very soon.” He shoved me, chuckling as I bashed my knee against a coffee table with metal cups and a water jug. The jug wobbled, spilling cold liquid down the shins of my jeans and puddling on the floor.

“For fuck’s sake, Weaver.” Marching forward, he grabbed the back of my nape, forcing me to bend over the mess. “See what you just did?”

He treated me like a dog that’d pissed on the rug.

All conversation and questions disappeared. His actions concealed any weakness he might’ve shown, cleverly reminding me that everyone had issues, everyone had skeletons and secrets, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was the person you became despite your past. And Daniel had no intention of changing.

“Clean that shit up.”

Marquise entered, not caring Daniel held me so roughly. He nodded as if it were perfectly acceptable and placed my suitcase beside the bed. Without a word, he left again.