First Debt

Without a word, she placed the soggy document onto the desk, dipped the swan feather into the ink well, and signed her name.

My stomach swooped in the wrong direction. I should’ve been happy, but instead my joy was filthy oil, corrupting my insides.

Avoiding eye contact, she whispered, “I want to go back to my room. If you have any soul inside you, Jethro, you will do this one thing for me.”

My heart squeezed, cracking its glacier frost, melting drop by drop.

My hands itched to touch her, to grant solace…comfort.

She hates you, you arsehole.

There was no way she would want to be touched. Especially by me.

The least I could do was release her.

With infinitesimal slowness, I turned to the desk and retrieved her phone. “Here.” I pressed it into her lax palm.

She didn’t even acknowledge me.

With nothing else to say, I guided her back to her room.

NEEDLE&THREAD: I wish you’d answer me, Vaughn. Please tell me you’re not about to blow something up, charge in here with God knows what, and get yourself arrested or worse… killed. Please…reply. I miss you.

I swiped at the sticky salt on my cheeks. My heart hung heavy like a charred piece of meat. Last night was a distant memory, rather foggy and blurred. I remembered the fireworks, I recalled the relaxed day of reading and helping the staff set up the garden buffet, but I struggled to remember what happened in Jethro’s office.

All I knew was I’d finally snapped.

The cry I’d had in the kennels the day I arrived was nothing to how undone I’d become.

I should care that Jethro had seen me at my absolute weakest, but I couldn’t get up the energy. I felt strangely aloof, removed from everything.

He let you cry.

He didn’t torment me or make it worse by delivering yet more horror. He’d stood like an ice statue, completely unyielding and not melting at all, towering over me while I wept into his carpet.

But in that arctic silence, there’d been something…something different.

His silence had throbbed with regret…of understanding and even mutual anguish.

The moon and stars had given way to another stunning day, miraculously cancelling the horrible ending to a nice party.

The best thing? I’d slept like the dead after Jethro had left me alone. The cry had drained me of everything, leaving me with a thick headache that sent me slamming into unconsciousness.

My phone buzzed.

Shaking my head, I dispelled last night and looked at the glowing screen. I wanted a reply from my twin. But what I got was better.

My heart soared as I read the first message from Kite007 in two weeks.

Kite007: Don’t know why I keep hoping you’ll reply, seeing as you’ve been quiet for two weeks, but I had a shit of a night and need to talk to someone who won’t judge.

He’d been trying to message me?

I quickly scrolled through the inbox but found nothing. My stomach rolled at the thought of Jethro deleting Kite’s messages. What an arsehole.

I’d gone from a secluded seamstress, whose only contact was her father and brother, to being torn in three directions. As much as I wanted to deny it, I had feelings for Kite. He’d been a bastard to me, but he’d granted me the strength to stand up to him, which then led me to develop feelings for Kestrel. Because he’s the same person; I know it.

I still hadn’t gotten up the guts to ask him, but sometimes I’d catch him watching me with secrets in his eyes.

I didn’t care that it might all be a ruse to get inside my head. I didn’t care I was nothing more than a marionette being told what to think and who to trust. I had to forget about all that and follow my heart—because, ultimately, that was the only thing that might save me.

Then, of course, there was Jethro. He confused me, perplexed me, and completely befuddled me. One minute I would gladly pour gasoline over his wintry shell and see if I could burn him into the person I saw rare glimpses of, the next he did things like last night and ruined all the softness I had for him.

How could I understand someone who didn’t even understand himself?

You can’t talk. One second you’re trying to seduce him, the next you’re trying to make him bleed.

We were as bad as each other.

Looking at the text again, I clicked reply. Biting my lip, I wondered why Kes/Kite had had a bad night. What had happened when Jethro tugged me away? And why hadn’t Kes tried to talk to me when he realised I wasn’t replying to his messages?

We saw each other every day. All he had to do was whisper something in my ear. Something that would confirm this labyrinthine mystery once and for all.

Perhaps Jethro showed the new contract to Kes—rubbed it in his face that no matter how Kes felt about me, he could never have me?

Ugh. The headache from last night came back with a heavy cloud.

Needle&Thread: I’m here now. And you’re right, I won’t judge. What happened last night?

It was odd to have nothing sexual included in the message, but our ‘friendship’ had more depth now.

I settled deeper into the pillows. The diamond collar bruised my neck, throbbing with heat; it wasn’t exactly comfortable to sleep in.

Kite007: I stooped to an all-new low. Remember when I said we’re all products of our upbringing? Well, I keep blaming everything wrong inside me on that. I use it as an excuse, but what if it isn’t good enough anymore?

Oh, my God.

I’d never heard Kite sound so melancholy. My heartbeat increased as my fingers flew over the keyboard.

Needle&Thread: There’s nothing wrong inside you.

I paused before pressing send. If I did this, he would know I suspected. If he read between the lines and didn’t see it as a blasé comment, the truth would be out and the choice of how to proceed would be in his court. Did I want him to have that power?

Gritting my teeth, I pressed send.

Immediately, I got a reply.

Kite007: You don’t know anything about me.

Needle&Thread: We can keep pretending if you’d like, but it’s just another excuse. It sounds like you’re ready to face the truth. So…it’s your call if you want to or not.

Minutes ticked past.

My mind skipped back to the day I’d arrived. The welcome luncheon, the night in the kennels, and the strange degrading encounters with Jethro. How was it the Hawks had everything, yet everyone seemed to be hiding the truth? Jethro was hiding. Kes was hiding. Daniel had disappeared—the little creep—and Cut walked around with an air of mystique.