Debt Inheritance

Looking around quickly, he relaxed when he noticed we were still alone. “If you knew me, you’d know how I react to incorrect statements about my mental health. If you were smart, you would know never to raise your voice and to maintain proper conduct in public.”

He bowed his head, brushing his nose threateningly against my ear. “But seeing as you don’t know me, I’ll withhold the punishment—for now. But a word of warning, Ms. Weaver. Just because I don’t lower myself to the unattractive use of volume, doesn’t mean I’m not pissed. I’m very fucking pissed. I gave you an order, and you’ve disobeyed numerous times already. This is the last time I’ll ask politely.”

Pulling away, he grabbed my middle and with strength that terrified, plucked me from the ground and plonked me on the back of his bike, side-saddle.

Giving a mock salute, Jethro said, “Thank you for obliging me. I’m so glad you decided to climb aboard.” With a scowl, he noticed my high heels. Dropping to one knee, he tore them off my feet, throwing them over his shoulder. They disappeared in the clouds of decimated fabric behind him.

I truly was Cinderella, only my prince threw away the glass slipper and stole me away before midnight struck. My prince was evil. My prince was the villain.

I couldn’t breathe.

Run. Kick him. Do not let him take you.

All manner of horrible situations ran wild in my head. I’d been brought up in a safe neighbourhood, instilled with common-sense and morals. Yet nothing had prepared me to fight for my life against a lunatic who came across as sane.

“You can’t do this. I don’t want to go with you.” I tried to jump off, but Jethro’s sleek bulk prevented me from moving. He loomed upright like a terrible sentence—a judgement of my past and present. “You have no choice. You’re coming with me. Your wishes have no relevance.”

Stabbing him in the chest with my fingertip, I shouted, “My wishes are completely relevant. You can’t take me against my will. That’s called kidnapping.” My body flushed with hot anger. “Let. Me. Go. Before I scream.”

Vaughn. Shit, I wanted my brother. The amount of times he protected me growing up from bees, and badgers, and boys who picked on me at school.

Vaughn!

Jethro shook his head. “It’s too late. For any of that. And don’t scream. I don’t do well with screamers.” He chuckled mirthlessly. “Unless I’m the reason for said scream and we’re in private.”

I ignored the ‘scream topic’ and focused on the horrible ultimatum. Too late? What’s too late? I wasn’t on some countdown where my life ended as I knew it. I didn’t agree to any of this!

I didn’t, but maybe father did.

The thought stopped me like a knitting needle to the heart. He’d introduced me to Jethro—over any other man. He’d encouraged me to go with him—against my brother’s wishes.

Jethro might’ve been able to hoodwink my father, but I saw his true colours, and I wasn’t going to tolerate it any longer. This fiasco had gone on long enough.

I opened my mouth to scream. I was done being scared and manipulated by a soft-spoken psychopath. I wanted normal. I wanted a shower and the sweet oblivion of sleep.

My lungs expanded with a plea. “Help—”

Jethro lashed out, slapping a cool palm over my lips. The first sign of uncontrollable emotion blazed in his eyes. He sighed heavily, shaking his head. “I’d hoped you’d be more intelligent than that.”

I slapped him.

The sharp ringing of flesh against flesh froze time. I didn’t move or breathe or blink. Neither did Jethro.

We stared at each other until all I knew was gold from his eyes. The air dropped from autumn to blustery winter the longer we glowered, freezing over with his temper. It could’ve been a second or ten, but it was Jethro who broke the brittleness between us.

His cold fingers trailed from my mouth to my throat. Wrapping tight. Unforgiving. The action showed the truth—the inhuman truth. This man was fastidiously groomed and softly spoken, but beneath it all raged a devil in disguise. His touch told endless information of the man he tried to hide. He was the ultimate in camouflage.

He was iron-fisted and remorseless.

Tilting my neck with bruising fingers, he murmured, “Obey and I won’t hurt you. Fight me and I’ll make you scream.”

Every muscle in my body jolted. The decimation of my dress no longer mattered. All I cared about was running as far and as fast as I could. Tears bubbled in my chest; I bit my lip to stop the rapidly building sob from escaping.

Jethro never let go of my throat. “I’m not here to kidnap you. I’m not here to knock you out or drug you. Call me old-fashioned, but I’d hoped you’d come willingly and prevent both of us an inconvenience.” Stroking my hair with his free hand, he cupped the back of my skull. “You’re probably wondering why I said you have no choice but to come with me. Because I’m a fair man and believe in equality—even between hunter and prey—I’ll tell you.”

His breath was the only warm thing about him, scalding my skin with words I didn’t want to hear. “I’m here to extract a debt. The reason for that debt will be revealed when I’m good and ready. The method of payment for that debt is entirely up to you.”

My brain swam, trying to understand. “What—”

His fingers tightened, cutting off my air supply. Choking, the instinct to fight overrode my frozen terror. I squirmed, scratching my nails over his wrists.

My nails didn’t affect him—if anything, it made him calmer. Tutting under his breath, he said, “The first thing you should know about me is I never forget. If you draw blood trying to get free, I’ll only repay in kind. It’s worth remembering, Ms. Weaver.”

His gaze fell to my clawing fingers, tightening his own until I fought against what I truly wanted and let them slide from his wrists.

“Good girl,” he murmured. Pulling back, he unwound his digits one at a time from my throat. Meticulous in slowness. Terrifying in control.

I only repay in kind. His voice echoed in my head. I balled my hands in my lap, hoping I wouldn’t lash out or do anything he might deem repayable. I wanted to hurt him so much I trembled. I wanted him bleeding on the pavement so I could run.

Standing tall, Jethro glared, waiting to see what I would do.