First Debt
Page 13I looked into his dark eyes, utterly gobsmacked. “Is this a new strategy? Commiserate with the indebted girl—give her the illusion she has friends?”
Flaw shook his head. “Uh…”
“Everyone is to treat you with utmost civility, Nila. It isn’t a trick,” Kes’s deep voice rumbled.
Trick?
This was beyond a trick. It was an entire production of tricks.
But what could I do? Nothing. I just had to play along and hope I could see the truth through the lies.
Flaw nodded at the door. “You found us—remember? We have nothing to gain by inviting you in here and talking.”
Kes said, “He’s right. We’re not going to hurt you.”
But you did if you’re Kite. You hurt me by pretending.
I glared hard, hoping he’d get my unspoken message.
Kes looked away, hiding any hint he might’ve picked up on my temper. Stalking toward the groaning bookshelves lining the walls of the saloon, he cupped his chin, searching for something.
“Ah, ha.” Snagging an oversized tome with tatty bindings, he brought it back toward me with a twinkle in his eyes. “I think this might interest you.”
Beckoning me to take a seat, he pulled up an ottoman and sat beside the empty wingback. Quirking his eyebrow, he waited for me to deliberate.
Should I leave or stay? Should I continue to play whatever this was or go and hunt for the man who made me wet and terrified me?
Slowly, my feet moved toward the chair. Sinking down onto the firm leather, Kes placed the heavy book into my lap. “Relax and forget about this world for a while.”
I couldn’t take my eyes off the literature. A large gold filigree ‘W’ embossed the cover with what looked like an oak tree sprouting countless limbs of foliage.
“What is it?” I asked, tracing the majestic old-wealth of such a book.
Kes grinned, inching closer to open the first page. “It’s your history.”
My heart thrummed as his bulk seared my left side. My eyes devoured the beautifully scripted calligraphy.
“Every Weaver woman who’s stayed with us has made notes and shared her journey, along with patterns and fashions created while living with us.” He gently flipped a page, where faint sketches decorated along with the signature of one of my ancestors. Notes scribbled about what sort of fabric to source, along with diary-like entries of what life was like living in the nest of Hawks.
My hands shook. Leaning over, I couldn’t read fast enough.
Today was a good day. Bonnie had the chiffon I requested delivered, and I spent the afternoon in her chambers, creating a new crinoline evening gown. She’s a surly old bat, but when you get to know her…
The next paragraph had been scribbled out, so dark and determined, I had no hope of reading what was written. It continued:
The passion to create had disappeared. I lived in a void with no urge to sketch or pin or sew. I hate that I’ve found that passion here of all places, but at least…
As much as I do not wish to admit—I’m happy.
My eyes shot up to Kestrel’s. “You’re trying to prove that my family were content with their imprisonment?” My heart froze over at such atrocities. But how could I deny it when it was in black and white?
Kes smiled softly. “Happiness comes in many forms: sex, freedom, control. I think everyone has the capacity to find happiness in even the darkest of places.”
Grabbing the majority of the pages, he flipped them over, revealing unmarred parchment.
Chills scattered down my back.
It’s for me.
It’s been waiting for me to fill with my journey.
“This is yours, Nila. If there aren’t enough blank pages, we’ll have a book binder add more.” With gentle fingertips, he tucked a loose piece of hair behind my ear.
I jolted from his touch, my emotions going haywire.
My eyes locked with his; a ball lodged in my throat.
Awareness sparked between us; my lips parted as I sucked in a breath. Kes looked at me the exact same way Jethro had after our fight in the forest, after he’d blown down my throat, after I’d won. That same awe, same secretive amazement, now blazed in his brother’s gaze.
Words deserted me as I fell into his soul, allowing him to spellbind me, despite everything that he was.
I gasped as his fingers clasped mine, squeezing hard. Dropping his voice to a soft whisper, he said, “Whatever you think of my family, don’t let it taint what you think of me.” Waving with his free hand, he continued, “These are my quarters. My bedroom is off this saloon. If it ever gets to be too much, if my brother ever goes too far, you’re welcome to find sanctuary here.”
Bowing his head, energy and connection poured from him. “You’re always welcome.”
My heart hurled itself against my ribcage, bruising itself in its urge to flee or perhaps surrender to the perfectly delivered offer of kinship.
I froze as he cupped my chin. My skin twinged as he held me firm. “Now, Nila Weaver, read. Forget us, and spend time with your true family.”
THREE FUCKING HOURS, I looked for her.
I hunted through Hawksridge Hall, opened doors into rooms I never wanted to step foot into ever again, and stalked down corridors I’d long since forgotten about as I never explored that part of the house.
I bumped into Diamond Brothers and got caught up in a strategy meeting for the next shipment arriving in three days, but no matter how many bedrooms, bathrooms, and lounges I searched, I found nothing.
Nothing!
Had she run again? Could she be that fucking stupid to try and escape after I’d proven how useless that was?
Damn my father for dismissing us.
The moment I’d stepped outside the dining room, Kes had requested my help on a matter. Seeing as he was the only person I had time for, I reluctantly followed, even though I wanted to wait till Cut had finished with Nila. I fucking hated her being alone with him. My knuckles ached from fisting so hard, and I didn’t know how I would survive when the time came to share.
I’d go fucking insane.
I’d have to make sure all loaded ammunition was barred from the house, so I didn’t end up slaughtering my entire family.
Nila Weaver was mine, goddammit. I didn’t want anyone talking, touching, or twisting her thoughts without my permission.
Calm the fuck down.
I slammed to a stop in the middle of a corridor. If I bumped into Cut in this state, he’d know I wasn’t coping. He’d take me so damn low, I wouldn’t stand a chance of climbing out of the glacier so fast.
You shouldn’t be thawing so quickly.
I agreed with my internal logic. I shouldn’t be feeling this type of emotion. I shouldn’t be letting my feelings get the better of me.
Breathing hard through my nose, I locked my jaw and recited the same thing I did every day, ten times a day, twenty even—all to remind myself of who I was meant to be and hide who I truly was.
My lips moved as I let the words trickle silently in my mind.
I’m a shadow lurking in plain sight.
A predator in sheep’s clothing.
I prey on the weak with no apology.
I hide my true temper beneath a veil of decorum.
I’ve mastered the art of suave.
I’m a gentleman. Distinguished, accomplished, and shrewd.
I’m all of those things but none of them.
Rules and laws don’t apply to me.
I’m a rule-breaker, curse-maker, life-stealer.
You’re lying. It’s a farce.
Clenching my jaw, I forced my heart rate to calm and for the ice to take me hostage. Repeating the mantra, I slowly fell under its hypnosis. My back relaxed, the knots in my muscles unthreading. My sweaty palms went paper dry and cold, while my face turned slack with uncaring.
Finally.
The calmness siphoning through my veins was welcome, turning everything frigid and controllable in its path.
Everything about my life since I was fifteen fucking years old was a carefully designed and executed illusion.
Up till now, I’d survived.
I’d buried the true me beneath a man so cold and perfect—even I believed—most of the time.
But every now and again, a hairline fracture would show in my glacier shell.
And my father would notice.
And he would…‘fix’ me.
Until I was old enough to fix myself, of course.
Which I’d done only the night before, so why was I having such difficulty now?
The thawing had happened too fast. Normally, I could pass a few weeks, sometimes more, before I ever needed to be fixed. But Nila Weaver was the sun upon my ice, turning me into a river that wanted to flow and change and grow. Not freeze and remain forever unmovable.
There was only one course of action to get through her invasion into my senses and survive her stay with us. I just didn’t know if I had the strength to do it.
Shaking away that terrible thought, I prowled forward.
The sounds of men came and went as I passed rooms, and scents of fresh baking from the kitchens made my mouth water.
I almost walked right past her as I moved through the house lost in my thoughts. The sounds of conversation muted my attention, and if it hadn’t have been for the strangest sound imaginable, I would’ve strode right by.
I slammed to a halt outside my brother’s room.
Outside my brother’s room.
The abominable sound came again.
Laughter.
Feminine laughter.
Nila’s laughter.
And it wasn’t cynical or full of contempt—it was light-hearted and relaxed.
The lyrical sound twisted my heart, turning my self-pity into fucking rage. I barged into Kestrel’s apartment wing with no knock, no request, and slammed to a halt.
Flaw, Kes, and Nila sat in a grouping of wingbacks, smiling and sharing a good old fucking laugh.
What. The. Fuck?
Kes looked up, his mouth spread into a broad smile. “Jet! Nice of you to join us.” His tone was a direct contradiction to his welcome.
I narrowed my eyes, trying to understand how my brother—my one ally who knew the truth about me—was antagonising me to the point of ruining everything. What was his deal?
I stupidly felt betrayed—worse than betrayed—provoked.
Nila’s laugh cut off as she sat straighter in her chair. Her cheeks were flushed, annoyance at my interruption bright in her dark eyes.
She had the gall to be annoyed at me? When she belonged to me?
With a sideways look at me, he disappeared through the door, shutting it behind him.
The moment he’d gone, I seethed, “Care to explain what’s going on?”
Kes stood up. “Calm down and no, I don’t. You don’t have to understand everything, Jet.” Throwing a quick grin at Nila, he asked, “Unless you’d care to tell my brother what’s so funny?”
Nila stared at me coldly. A second ticked past, then another, her temper shooting me cleanly through the chest.
“Well?” My heart pounded, once again shrugging out of the frosty shield in favour of rage.
Finally, she shook her head. “No. I don’t think he deserves to know.”
Okay…that was just plain rude.
Kes snickered. “Fair enough.”
My teeth almost cracked from clenching. Why had I been worried about what I was about to do to her? She made me believe she cared—just a little—about me. She’d sucked me off for Christ’s sake. She’d asked me to fuck her. She was attracted to me. I knew that.
Just like I was attracted to her.
So much.
Too much.
I was beyond fucking ready to slam inside her wet heat and finally show her the truth. That no matter her birth-right or mine, we were equals. And I’d never met anyone as challenging or intriguing.
But she’d manipulated me.
She’d used me, not once, but more times than I knew. All along I’d been fighting for the right to gain her trust, only for her to give it to my bloody brother.
Damn woman. Damn Weaver Whore.
Snapping my fingers, I hissed, “You’ve had your fun. Congratulations on winning once again, Ms. Weaver.” Pointing at the ground by my shoes, I ordered coldly, “Come. It’s time. You’ve wasted my day hiding. Now it’s time to get this over with.”
Nila tilted her chin insolently. “I didn’t know we were fighting for something. Why exactly did I win?”
Goddammit.
Ignoring her question, I repeated. “Come. Now.”
Kes crossed his arms, watching us as if we were his favourite volleyball match.
Nila rose gracefully from her seat. In her hands, she held the Weaver journal, which she stroked reverently, before transferring it from her lap and onto the chair she’d just vacated. Her actions were stiff, back ramrod straight. “Whatever you believe, I wasn’t hiding, Jethro. Merely finding friends in the unlikely of places.”
I froze as she moved toward Kestrel.
He opened his arms.
She walked into his embrace.
She walked into his fucking embrace.
I couldn’t understand.
I didn’t want to understand.
She prefers him over you, idiot. She can see you’re different. She can sense you’re screwed up.
The hug lasted far longer than my tolerance level. Who was I kidding—I had no tolerance level.
Kes was mine, and Nila was mine. They both belonged to me. They had no right to gang up against me.