Final Debt

Cut’s story achieved two things. One, it showed that although my ancestors had been conceited and cruel, Sonya had been compassionate and kind. And even though the Hawks were insane today; back then, they sounded upstanding and courageous.

Cut’s voice cut through my musing. “Instead of taking her for his own, William let Marion marry and breed. He married himself and accepted the gift of land from the crown to build our home, Hawksridge Hall.”

Cut stopped moving; I stopped backing away.

His white hair flickered with the electric lamps around the room. His voice turned raspy from delivering such a long tale. “Unfortunately for William, his firstborn, Jack Hawk, was nothing like his father. Jack willingly accepted the Debt Inheritance when he came of age.”

I finally understood why, through so many generations, only a select few inheritances had been claimed. There would’ve been more Hawks like Jethro—especially if it was a common trait. And my family didn’t take the threat seriously because the claiming wasn’t strictly enforced.

Cut didn’t speak again for a minute, letting history fade around us, allowing ghosts to settle back into their coffins.

Taking a deep breath, he finished, “So you see, Nila. We had our own hardships. We knew what it was like to rise from the gutter. And the Weavers couldn’t stop us.”

I squirmed in my ropes, hating he’d come to an end—knowing it meant only one thing. I’d enjoyed the lesson, but I wanted to run from whatever debt he would make me repay. “But you have so much. Why bother hurting others when you no longer need to?”

Cut scowled. “Why do politicians lie? Why do the richest families in the world create war? Why do those who have the power to fix global poverty choose to exploit and murder instead?” His fingers kissed my cheek. “Nila, the world is black beneath the skirts of society. We aren’t any different from others.”

“That’s not true. I don’t believe that.”

“Don’t believe what?”

“That other men do this. Hurt others.”

Cut laughed loudly. “Don’t you pay attention to the news? Do you not see between the lines of what a corrupted, blackmailed globe we live in?”

I looked away.

Jethro continued to wriggle. Nervous sweat beaded on his forehead while wildness glowed in his eyes.

We both understood time had run out. Cut was ready for the next part of this sick and twisted game.

“I do agree some families control every earthly asset.” I stood tall and defiant. “I agree death to them is as simple as a signature or a whispered word. What I don’t agree with is why. Why do you have to do this?”

Cut marched quickly and gathered me close in his arms. “Because I can, Nila. That’s all.” Letting me go, he prowled to the table where items I didn’t want to look at rested. “Now, enough history. I’ve rambled on long enough, and it’s starting to get boring. Let’s get to the exciting part, shall we?

“Let’s pay the rest of the Fourth Debt.”

GET YOUR FUCKING hands off her.

Don’t touch her.

Let her go.

Leave her alone, goddammit!

Every thought hurricaned around my head, blistering with outrage but not able to spill thanks to the rancid gag inside my mouth.

I wanted to kill him. Motherfucking slice his godforsaken head off his shoulders.

Every inch of me cried with agony—from the gunshot wound to the fever to the pounding headache and potentially cracked ribs from the car crash.

Yet nothing hurt more than listening to Cut deliver the story of Mabel and William—the same tale I’d heard over and over again—and counted down the minutes of when it would be over.

Nila paid attention, rapt beyond her will, absorbing my family’s history. To hear it for the first time would’ve answered so many of her questions but I had my own about William Hawk. Along with Owen, I felt most connected with him. I had documents of when William was inducted into the House of Lords while building Hawksridge. I had countless notes of his rise to wealth and the ledgers from his ships.

He was the keystone to my family, just like Mabel. He’d managed to deliver our rightful happiness without spilling any more Weaver blood. I liked him. But I hated what’d happened after his time had passed.

Nila struggled in Cut’s control. “I paid the Fourth Debt at the Hall.”

Cut laughed. “You paid one element of it, that’s all. This is the main part and must be completed for the contract to be appeased.”

Snatching her tied wrists, he stroked her tattooed fingertips. “You’ve only earned two tallies. You need two more marks before the Final Debt can be paid.”

Nila snarled, “If you think you can etch your name into my skin, I won’t let you. Jethro’s initials are what I bear. Only he can tally me. Only he can claim me as per the Inheritance rules.”

Cut let her go, tutting under his breath. “As you no doubt have figured out, Ms. Weaver, I’m not exactly playing by those rules any longer.”

Another wash of crippling pain from my headache dulled their voices. My shoulders ached from flipping in the car and my sockets bellowed from being wrenched behind my back.

They continued to argue as I grappled for coherency.

I willed them to continue talking. Every extra stolen minute could help.

Gritting my jaw, I struggled with renewed force. For the past half hour, I’d done everything I could to get free.

My fingernails sawed at the rope; my tongue pushed on the gag. But Cut hadn’t tied me with half-measures. He’d tied and triple tied.