Third Debt Page 16

Jethro clenched his jaw. “What plan, Ms. Weaver?”

I suffered a mental image of him thawing and falling in love with me all over again—no hidden lies, no secrets. I imagined him holding a black-haired baby girl with a combination of his perfect white skin and my tanned heritage. A Hawk-Weaver. A new legacy that would erase the sins of her forbearers.

Am I strong enough to make that happen?

“No plan. Just a hope.”

“Well, whatever hope you have, you might as well leave it here. It’s useless baggage that will only upset you.” Silently, he stole my wrist again and carted me from my room.

I’d thought he’d sneaked in using my window—after all, it was a fairly easy climb up the façade of the manor—but he’d been bolder. He’d used the front door.

The two servants we employed had their rooms downstairs. It was sad to think even now, in this day and age, our help was still housed in the basement. Had we learned nothing from our past transgressions?

They have an apartment down there. Private suites, a bathroom…it’s not as if it’s a dank cellar.

That was the truth, but it still couldn’t hide that they lived below us. Below our high and mighty rank as Weavers.

Perhaps this was my karma.

For all my wrongdoings and not my ancestors.

Without a sound, Jethro opened the front door and guided me out. I looked one last time at my childhood home before the door clicked shut, casting me out.

Jethro didn’t give me time to mourn. Dragging me down the front steps, he nodded at Kes. The front courtyard housed three bikes and two darkly dressed men.

Kestrel touched his temple in greeting, his light coloured eyes looking like moonbeams in the darkness. “Nila. Pleasure to see you again.”

I smiled once, still dreadfully unsure if Kes was on my side, his brother’s, or his father’s.

Jethro tugged me close. Grabbing my hips, he tossed me onto the back of his bike. A small puff of air exploded out of my mouth at his rough handling. My skin tingled where he’d touched me, but he seemed unaffected.

I’ll break you again, Jethro Hawk. I did it once. I can do it a second time.

And then I’ll save both of us.

I swallowed hard as the reality of my pregnancy scheme slapped me with doubt. It would take nine long months to hatch. I doubted I had nine months to live—let alone breed in the hope it would keep us alive.

I need a back-up plan.

“We’re done here,” Jethro muttered, throwing a glance at Flaw before taking his helmet from the handlebars and jamming it on his head.

Flaw said, “If we’re done. Let’s go.” His gloved fingers wrapped around his throttle.

I was back with the men who’d claimed me.

Back with my enemies.

Back in power and ready to destroy them.

DAWN.

The new sun painted the sky a glowing pink as we drove beneath the gatehouse at the entrance of Hawksridge. Kes and Flaw accelerated, pulling away and speeding up the long driveway.

I slowed down, steadying the bike and Nila’s weight behind me.

Her torso plastered against my back, her hips as close to mine as possible. She was the exact opposite from the first time I’d collected her.

Back in Milan, she’d been respectful in her fear. She’d kept her distance and didn’t try to break through my carefully constructed walls. Now, she was pissing me off taking liberties she was no longer entitled to. Her hands hadn’t stopped roaming as I drove down motorways and country lanes. Her heat seeped through my jacket, infecting my skin below. She thought things were the same—that I secretly wanted her to touch me.

She couldn’t be more wrong.

Slamming my bike to a halt, I planted my legs on the road and twisted to face her. “I’m going to give you a choice.” Tearing her arms from around my waist, I held up a blindfold that I’d stuffed into my pocket.

Nila frowned, her eyes flickering up the hill where the road disappeared toward Hawksridge. “What choice?”

Rubbing the silk between my fingers, I said, “I can either blindfold you or not. It’s up to you.”

Cut was confident this imprisonment would be a lot smoother than her first, but he still didn’t want her knowing the way off the estate—unless she gave a guarantee. I smirked. “Decide, Ms. Weaver.”

“How is the choice up to me? And besides, I saw the driveway when the police took me away.”

“Fair enough.” I let the blindfold fall from my fingers and onto her thigh. “Are you going to try to run again? Or have you accepted that your home is now with me?”

I hadn’t meant to word it like that. I’d meant to say had she accepted that she would die on this estate. That her life out there—her home in London—was over, done.

Forever.

Nila’s gaze delved into mine. I felt her probing my soul, looking for answers and hope.

I didn’t have to stop her or hide.

There was nothing inside that shouldn’t be there. Not anymore.

I was proud of who I’d become.

And it was all thanks to the little white tablets in my pocket.

After a long minute, she replied, “My home is with you, Kite. I know that. I think I’ve always known that.” She licked her bottom lip. “I won’t run. I won’t leave you. Not again. Whatever happened to you the past few weeks, I’m willing to look past it because I know what we found together is true and this…” She waved at me as if I offended her. “This is a lie that I don’t buy.”

My heart skipped—just a small skip—before settling into its wintry shell. Her power over me was gone. It’d just been tested and proven.

“You don’t have to buy anything for it to be the truth.”

She sighed. “No, but I can hope.”

“Hope is as useless as love, Nila Weaver.” Shoving the blindfold back into my pocket, I gunned the bike and took her the final distance home.

The underground parking garage housed thirty or so bikes for the Black Diamond brothers. We’d built the bunker especially for our MC, hidden away in case the police ever raided us, which until last month was never a possibility.

Now it might be thanks to the fucking Weavers and their lies to the local papers. Our bribes worked perfectly to keep the law on our side. But when strangers started moaning and demanding justice, it wasn’t a simple matter of turning a blind eye anymore.

Luckily, we had a plan. Damage control was in full swing, and after a few weeks out of the limelight, Nila would be forgotten and the world would continue.

We also had a trump card.

The one thing Vaughn couldn’t get his sister to do: a private interview.

Later today, Nila would answer all the questions the world wanted to know. She would shed her silence and feed the media a story that would put an end to the disgusting rumours in a carefully scripted pantomime, then she would go back to belonging to us. To me.

Plucking my captive from my bike, I discarded my helmet and jacket.

She was back where she belonged, but first there was a simple matter to attend to. One that my father had pointed out and shown me how important it was after my indiscretions.

He was wise, my father. I hoped to rule like him when it was my turn.

“Come with me.” Taking her wrist again, I half-escorted, half-dragged Nila through the underground garage and into the private elevator that spat us out by the stables.

Neither of us spoke as we traversed the grass beneath the pink-silver light of dawn. The Hall loomed before us, its turrets glowing with sunrise and stained glass windows looking as if blood ran down the panes.

Flaw and Kestrel had gone—no doubt already snoring in their beds.

I hadn’t slept much last night, but I wasn’t tired. Far from it. I was awake and ready to prove my worth.

My fingers itched to open my tablet bottle. It wasn’t time for another dose, but the way my heart skipped back at the gatehouse proved the fog needed reinforcing.

Now Nila was back in my vicinity, I would have to keep an eye on my dosage—increase the prescription to remain immune to whatever tricks she might play.

“Where are you taking me?” Nila asked as we stepped into the hushed world of Hawksridge and prowled through its sleepy corridors.

I didn’t reply. She had no right to know. She would understand the moment we arrived.

It didn’t take long, another few minutes before I stopped and opened a large carved door in the north wing of the house.

The space wasn’t as big as many of the other rooms, but it’d been staged with the equipment required.

My lips twitched into half a smile as Nila crossed the threshold.

The moment her eyes landed on the medical table in the centre of the room, her mouth fell open in horror. “What—what is this?”

She struggled in my hold while I reached behind her and locked the door.

She wasn’t stupid.

She knew this wouldn’t end well.

The light in her face went out. Her eyes widened in horror. I’d been right to suspect her motives. Did she not think I would see? That her messages weren’t so fucking obvious?

“I’m not someone you can manipulate, Ms. Weaver.” I patted her arse as I moved forward. A reclining chair suddenly swivelled around, revealing my father.

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