Fourth Debt
Page 5

His hand lashed out, grabbing my hair. “She could’ve survived if he’d tried. He killed her—said it was what she wanted. That it was the only way she could live with what I’d done. I call fucking bullshit.”
He shook his head, eyes wild. “He’s always been a pussy, and Kes was always a fucking sap. Jet drugged and lied to us—but fool on him. Cut will make you repay the Third Debt. Kes screwed up with that shoddy film—it could’ve been the best-edited video in all of bloody Hollywood, and I wouldn’t have bought it.” Slowly pulling me to my feet, he hissed, “Know why?”
Kes had been a true friend. Jethro had been a true lover.
They’re dead.
They’re dead.
Two friends gone.
My heart cracked all over again, but instead of sinking into depths of despair, something happened. My temper warmed, growing brighter and stronger, nudging aside grief.
Something was changing…building, evolving.
“Answer me!” Daniel shook me. “Tell me why I would never have bought that fucked-up video.”
Temper turned to rage, which turned to fury, creating a bubbling concoction of revenge.
I stood before him proud and undefeated. “I know why. Because you’re a sick, deranged pervert who remembers things like rape and torture.”
He barked with laughter. “Well, fuck me, you do understand.”
Breath by breath, I sold my soul to the churning anger inside. I gave up my innocence. I traded all resemblance of peace and purity, letting the blackness consume me.
Jethro had confused me—making me believe the debts were liveable. That, in the end, we’d win because we deserved to. His kindness outshone his cruelty, mixing the messages he sent.
But Daniel.
There was no more confusion.
I knew as surely as the sun would rise, Daniel would rape, maim, and kill me. There was no compassion or affection inside him.
That fantasy was done.
But with that knowledge came clear-headedness. I no longer wanted to fight hate with love or pain with tenderness.
I meant to meet Daniel in the abyss and kill him before he killed me.
“I know enough to destroy you, Daniel Hawk.”
My heart beat for the last time, frosting over—protecting itself for what I would do. I’d never planned on becoming a villain. But I’d never planned on losing my soul-mate, either.
Daniel snarled, “You’re a dead woman.” He squeezed my throat below my diamond collar, wedging me against the wall. “I mean to fill your final days on Earth with suffering. You’ll see. You’ll beg me to kill you before I’m finished.”
I gasped. Every instinct urged to scramble at his tight fingers. But I didn’t beg or plead. The numbness turned to coldness, and I understood my predicament better than ever before.
I’m a killer.
I just needed a weapon to fulfil it.
“Buzzard!”
Daniel froze, turning to face the door. His hand never let go of my throat, anger filtering through his grip.
I couldn’t turn my head, but in my periphery stood my second target. The man I would kill after dispatching his youngest son.
Bryan Hawk.
“Let her go for a moment. There’s a good boy.” Cut tapped a key against his chin—the key which no doubt unlocked the entrance to Daniel’s bedroom. Inching over the threshold, he came further into sight.
Daniel gathered me close, spinning me around so I squashed against his front. His breath wafted in my ear as his hand fisted my breast like I was a trophy to be touted.
I didn’t care. My body was as numb as my soul.
My eyes widened as a red-faced, tear-stained Jasmine rolled in behind her father. If I hadn’t locked away my pain, I would’ve burst into tears and shared her grief.
Why was she here? How could she stand to be around her father after what he’d done?
Two of her brothers, gone.
Half of her family obliterated by the man who should’ve protected them from everything.
He’d tried to kill her, yet she willingly breathed the same air as him.
Why?
“What are you doing?” Daniel grunted, kneading my breast. “You said—”
“I know what I said.” Cut prowled closer, his gaze taking in my dry eyes and balled hands. His jaw ticked, but that was the only sign of emotion. “Something has come to light.”
Jasmine looked at me. Something didn’t seem right. Her cheekbones sliced through pale skin, her normally sleek bob messy and tangled. But she had an edge about her speaking of unpredictability and almost…deranged mania.
He’s dead.
He’s dead.
Of course, she wouldn’t cope.
“Get out!” Daniel took a step back, hauling me with him. Our legs entwined, but I didn’t fight. I had the power to kill him, but we had to be alone. That was the only way.
Cut tucked the key into his pocket. “Buzzard, listen—”
“No, listen to me.” Jasmine shoved the rims of her wheelchair, barging past Cut and coasting at supersonic speed toward us. “Let her fucking go, Dan!”
Daniel flinched.
Jasmine cursing was wrong—as if she’d never sworn in her life. She looked too perfect to stoop so low. However, the unhinged glint in her bronze eyes and whitewashed face held no hint of weakness from watching two brothers die.
She looked livid rather than heartbroken.
What is going on?
Daniel’s gaze swooped to Cut. “What the fu—”