Debt Inheritance

Daniel yanked me from my horror, rubbing my clit viciously. He grinned, dragging his repulsive touch downward, violating every part of me. “She looks younger than twenty-four. Sure you didn’t get the younger sister instead?”

What!?

I jolted, sucking in a breath. I forgot to pretend the drugs still held me prisoner. A sister? Impossible.

She left us. Could my mother have had another life—a whole other existence that I didn’t know about?

The thought pulverized my heart. Not only did she have a family—tearing us apart when the debt came for her—but she’d thoughtlessly given life to another girl?

Jethro’s head snapped toward me, his light-brown eyes flashing in the darkness. I stayed as statuesque as possible. My gasp was the first sound I’d made since the bar. Since I entered into an agreement with Kite not to make him care, and the last conversation I had with my brother for who knew how long.

Jethro leaned into my neck, whispering, “I see you fighting it. I see you winning. You can’t hide anything from me.” Pulling away, his eyes narrowed. “You’d do well to remember that. Don’t give me a reason to hurt you so soon.”

Looking to his brother, he muttered, “She’s the right one.” His fingers clenched and unclenched on my thigh. In a lightning move, he snatched Daniel’s wrist and jerked his probing fingers from my core. “She’s the right one and mine. Enough.”

I couldn’t stop the sigh of relief. Only one other man had touched me there. Only one boy had seen me naked and taken my virginity. I never thought I’d be in a situation where I’d be forced, and for a fraction of a second I was grateful toward Jethro for stopping it.

“I can touch her if I want. Shit, I can fuck her too.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t. I just said…enough.” He bit the word into pieces. Sharp, deadly, unforgiving.

Daniel tore his arm from Jethro’s grip. “Fine. But don’t climb up your arse thinking she’s just yours. She’s not. She belongs to all of us.”

There are others. Many others who have the right to help me ensure the debt is fully repaid.

“No. But she’s mine until I say you can have her. Hierarchy, little brother. You know how receiving charity works.”

“Fuck off, Jet.” Pointing a finger at Jethro’s face, he said, “Cut changed a few things tonight at the Gemstone. He’s named me VP—given me your role.”

Jethro settled into the seat, his broad shoulders brushing mine. “If you think he did that behind my back, you’re mistaken. I asked for time. Cut was more than happy to grant it. After all, I’m the firstborn son of a Hawk. She’s the firstborn daughter of a Weaver. There are more important things on my agenda for the foreseeable future.”

My brain swam. Everything they said sounded cryptic and layered in code. Cut? Was that a name? Gemstone? It sounded like a place, but that didn’t make sense.

“You’ve always thought you’re better than me. But you’ll see who extracts a debt from flesh better when I get my turn.” Daniel sneered, his gaze bouncing from his brother to me.

I gritted my teeth against dropping my eyes or trying to turn invisible. As much as I hated Jethro, I would make sure to remain in his good graces as long as possible.

Daniel reached out and patted my knee, ignoring Jethro’s icy look. “Enjoy your time with my brother, because when you’re mine…enjoyment won’t be something you’ll be feeling.”

Jethro sat forward, his suit rustling against the leather upholstery. In his signature terrifying quietness, he said, “You disturb my work before I’m through, blood or not, you’ll pay the price.”

The two men glowered. I didn’t know either of them, but the air shimmered with past conflict and animosity—hinting that this standoff was nothing new.

“You’re not untouchable,” Daniel hissed. “You better—”

Jethro shook his head, eyes dark as amber. “Stop. There’s nothing I better do. Father didn’t pick you. He didn’t choose you.” His hand came up, casually checking his fingernails. “Life rewards those who deserve it. And you—don’t.”

Jethro was calm, made worse with the swirling ferocious temper existing just below the surface. The atmosphere thickened, changing the breathability of the car’s interior until I choked with the urge to flee.

Daniel trembled with violence.

Clive, the driver, never slowed, continuing through the night as if brother rivalry and debts extracted from human misery was common. The gentle rocking of the vehicle did nothing to relieve the anger between Jethro and Daniel, but every wheel spin helped shed the fogginess I’d existed in for the past few hours.

The fact I was trapped between two males who might explode at any second helped drench my system in adrenaline, kick-starting my heart, dragging me to the surface of being master of my own body once again. The heavy drug-ocean receded.

I didn’t witness what made Daniel concede—Jethro never moved—but he growled a curse, then spun in his seat to glare out the windscreen. I followed his attention, holding my breath at the soft glow in the distance. If that was our destination, it was giant. A looming residence breaking the darkness with false warmth and welcome.

My new home.

My new hell.

My end.

“It’s called Hawksridge Hall. Take a good look, because it’s the last place you’ll ever live,” Jethro murmured. Grabbing a handful of my hair, he tugged me closer. His hot breath disappeared down my dress, making me tremble. “Hawksridge has been in our family for countless generations. A fortune we built from nothing. Unlike you, we weren’t born into privilege. We earned our wealth. We deserved the titles bestowed, and it’s time to show you what we had to do to achieve that.”

His fingers wrapped tighter, burning my scalp. “To dispel any thought of running, there’s over one thousand hectares of land. You’d never find your way to the boundary. You’re trapped.” His lips grazed over my jaw. “You’re mine.” Keeping his fingers tangled in my hair, he reclined, pulling my neck into an uncomfortable angle.

The sadness I’d done so well at battling crested again. There wouldn’t be bars on my cage—or at least I didn’t think so—but there was a fortified moat in the design of woodland and lakes and hills. I wasn’t outdoorsy. I didn’t know north from south.