Final Debt
Page 39

Was it too hard to imagine that with his guard down and happiness in his veins, he wouldn’t want togetherness rather than rape? Jethro and Kes were kind-hearted and loving—beneath the bullshit layered on them by Cut. But at least they’d had some semblance of family. Their mother had cared for them. They’d been raised in a marriage not a regime.
Daniel hadn’t been so lucky. Was that why he’d never evolved past a spoiled brat? Did he lack everything that made him human because he’d never been given tenderness and mothering? Had I gone too far by hinting in my arms he’d found sanity for a change?
“I gave him more than he asked for. I gave him affection.” My eyes narrowed with anger. “I gave him what you were never able to give.”
Cut froze. His entire body locked down as if I’d stripped back his shell and revealed a grotesque truth inside him.
Oh, my God.
Was that Cut’s issue, too?
Lacking love from his own mother?
Bonnie…how much had she warped her son?
His lips pulled back, revealing glistening teeth. “Where is he then? If you gave him a night of fucking wonder, why wasn’t he in your bed? Why were you fleeing with Jet? Why does every word spewing from your motherfucking mouth reek of horseshit?”
I stiffened, curling into myself for protection. “I’ve always said I would run if I got the chance. Jethro gave me that chance. As for Daniel, he left after he finished. I assumed he went to fetch you.”
My mind grabbed a new idea.
“Perhaps, he found another woman to spend the remainder of the night with. Perhaps, he got too drunk and is sleeping it off in the shade.” I kept my voice level, even though it begged to wobble with uncertainty and plead Cut not to hurt me. “I don’t know where your son is. And no matter how many times you ask me, my answer won’t change.”
Cut swiped a tired hand over his face. A tiny part of me wanted to shout so loud my admission would echo in every cave within the mine.
It was me.
Me.
I slaughtered your offspring.
I was the one who took his life before he could take mine.
And I’ll take yours before we’re through.
But I swallowed it back, letting my rage rejuvenate me.
Cut snarled, “You’re lying. Stop fucking lying and tell me the truth.”
“I’m not lying.”
He grabbed my hair in a feral fist. “You had something to do with his disappearance. I know it. You can’t spin it away, Nila. I’ll tell you what I think happened.” Cocking his chin at Jethro, he growled, “Kite arrived and together you killed him. You plotted this and—”
“No!”
He yanked my head back. The diamonds around my neck bruised my larynx. “Tell me the truth then. Where. Is. My. Son?”
I gasped. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Liar!”
“No!” My eyes flew to Jethro. “Besides, it doesn’t matter now. Your firstborn is back from the dead. He’s your original heir. He can be again.” My injuries all flared in time with my raging heartbeat. Fighting against his hold, I did my best to cajole. “You know in your heart Daniel wasn’t fit to rule your empire. But Jethro is. You groomed him. He’s—”
“Shut up!” Cut’s palm smashed against my cheek.
Stars.
I groaned in pain; my head hanging heavily as he let me go.
Cut breathed hard, pacing away.
Trying to tilt my chin and blink through grey and black, I willed Jethro to wake. I didn’t want to be alone anymore. I didn’t want to face whatever would happen by myself.
I’m selfish.
Wake up. Please…
Jethro didn't move, slumping in his matching chair, barely breathing.
Cut continued pacing, his boots kicking up diamond dust and soil. “I don’t care if Jethro is back from the dead. You’re forgetting I wanted him hurt. He betrayed me—with you, no less. I shot him on purpose.”
“No.” I shook my head. “That’s not true.”
Cut paused, his eyebrows shooting upward.
I rushed, “You shot Jasmine, but Jethro protected her.” My heart raced, doing my best to touch some sort of humanity before it was too late. “I don’t think you wanted to shoot Jethro. You’ve never understood his condition, but you’re proud of how strong he is—how loyal he is to your family. How much he endured to be everything you ever asked him—”
“Shut the fuck up.” Cut reared backward, wiping his hands on his trouser leg. “You have it all wrong.”
“Enlighten me then. Tell me your secrets. You said you would. You told me I was entitled to know everything.” I couldn’t suck in a proper breath with fear. “I want to know. I have questions. So many, many questions. Tell me the truth of what happened when you claimed my mother. Did you love her? Did you ever feel anything for her to stop from killing her?”
A cold smile spread his lips. “Out of everything, that’s what you want to know? Unpractical, stupidly romantic things?”
I nodded. “Yes. Because those stupidly romantic things will show me if you ever had a soul.”
He chuckled. “Oh, I have a soul, Nila Weaver.”
“Show me.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
Keep him talking. Keep stalling.
“Tell me your story, Cut. Before you end this, make me understand.”