Fourth Debt
Page 89

“Sir, she’s the one who has hurt me.”
Tex sucked in a breath. “Good for her. I hope she tears out your motherfucking heart.”
I chuckled. “I’m in love with your daughter, Mr. Weaver. I have no intention of letting her tear out my heart.”
Tex’s temper soared into my ear. “Yet you’ll happily behead her just like her mother! What sort of sick fuck are you?”
“You’re not listening to what I’m telling you.”
“I’m listening perfectly fine, you son of a bitch, but you can’t scare me with these twisted phone calls anymore. Your father played the same game. Calling to tell me Emma was too sweet, too pure to die—that he’d find a way to end it. Only to call me on the eve of her death to tell me it was all a lie! He destroyed me, and now you’re destroying the dregs that are left.” Something crashed in the background. “I’ll tell you right now—I’m not listening. I’m coming for you, Hawk, and I’m going to make you fucking pay.”
My anger boiled over, meeting his. “Christ’s sake. Listen to me. I’m in love with Nila. I’m putting an end to this feud. You don’t have to believe me. Just listen. I’m offering you everything you want. Your son, your daughter…grandchildren who won’t be taken for some ludicrous vendetta. Do you want that? Will you risk talking to me so we can work together to end this?”
Silence.
More silence.
What did I expect? Our families had been raised to hate each other. Archibald lost his wife to my father—of course, he’d hate me.
I can do it without him.
Maybe then he’d believe me when I said Nila was now mine and I would do everything in my power to keep her safe.
I sighed, “Look—”
Tex interrupted. “What do you expect from me, Hawk?”
My shoulders slumped with relief.
I had him.
“I expect you to help me save the woman we love.”
TAPESTRIES WATCHED ME as if I were already dead.
The very air prickled my skin with foreboding.
Hawksridge Hall embraced me, sucking me back into its morbid evil. Every step, I wanted to cry. Every breath, I wanted to sprint out the door and never return.
I can’t do this again…
I can’t…
The strength I’d found in Jethro’s company rapidly dissolved, and the cracks and fissures from what they’d done to me ruined my determination.
My courage bled out, trailing like a bloody stain the deeper I travelled through the Hall.
There was no more happiness, only torment and despair. I didn't know how I’d survive another hour, let alone two days.
You can do it.
Can I?
I wasn’t so sure.
Following the corridor, I swallowed a gasp as Daniel charged around the corner.
“No!”
His hair was wet and combed back. His little goatee gone, his face baby-smooth, and eyes bright with excitement rather than hazy with sleep.
It’s not yet dawn.
How could he be up? What sick joke had fate played?
No. This can’t be happening. Haven’t I given enough?!
Daniel slammed to a stop, surprise painting his face.
I froze, wanting to miraculously turn invisible.
His chest puffed with glee; he grinned. “Well, well, well.” He took a step toward me, then another.
I couldn’t move.
Time spilled faster through its hated hourglass, sucking me into its sand.
“Where the fuck have you been sneaking off to?” He kept prowling toward me, tiny steps, baby steps, giving the illusion that I could run before he caught me.
Run!
The message shot to my legs and I bolted.
But I was too late.
Daniel’s feet thundered on the carpet, scooping me up in his arms before I even ran a few strides.
“Let me go!”
He chuckled, holding me tight against his front. His erection dug into my lower back and his breath echoed in my ear. “No chance. Never letting you go again, little Weaver.”
He wrenched open my fingers, revealing the key tight in my fist. “Where the fuck did you get that from?” Plucking it from my grip, he palmed it. “Not that it matters.”
I squirmed in his hold, doing my best to ram his nose with my skull. “Let me go!”
You won’t break me. Not again.
He laughed loudly. “Oh, I’m going to fucking enjoy this.” Slamming me back onto my feet, he struck my cheek with the hand holding the brass key.
The thick metal crunched against my cheekbone, spurting hot tears from my eyes.
I clutched my face, sucking in heavy breaths. Short hair whipped around, stinging my cheeks.
Don’t cry. Don’t show weakness.
Daniel wrapped his fist around my throat, yanking me into him. “Know what, Weaver, I don’t even care that you’re out of your room uninvited. I don’t care what shitty shenanigans you've been up to or how you got the key. None of that matters anymore.”
Throwing my head back, I screeched as loud as I could. “Jasmine!”
“Oh, no you fucking don’t.” Slapping a hand over my mouth, he whispered, “You don’t belong to Jasmine for this next part, whore.” His tongue traced the heated imprint of the key on my cheek. “You belong to me. Remember what Cut said last night? About a surprise…well, surprise! Get ready to pay for all your sins in one.”
I fought harder, screaming behind his palm.