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NINETEEN HOURS SINCE I’d spoken to Nila.
I’d waited until nightfall to message her again; I’d almost torn myself apart with impatience. The only thing that’d kept me inside the hospital and prevented me from hijacking a motorbike and hurtling toward Hawksridge was the lingering throb in my side.
I was better, but I wasn’t one hundred percent.
Not that I needed to be completely whole to destroy my father but I wouldn’t be stupid this time.
I wouldn’t ruin my surprise.
Finally, after my nightly check-up and disgusting hospital dinner, it was safe to message Nila without fear of her being caught.
Unknown Number: I need to speak to you again. I want to touch you—even if it means I can’t do it physically. Call me.
Hearing her delicious voice last night had turned me on, angered me, and set my nerves on edge. It felt as if I was the one with a guillotine blade over my head—punished by the desire to protect and love her.
My cock hadn’t softened all night but I’d refused to satisfy myself.
I wanted to wait for Nila.
We can offer each other a small measure of comfort.
I’d never had phone sex before, but if it granted a smidgen of contentment in our separation, I’d give it a shot.
My heart fisted.
Nila’s messages were so selfless. So concerned about Kes and me. She barely spoke of herself, no matter how many times I begged. Last night, when I’d talked to her, only confirmed my suspicions. She’d deflected a lot of her replies. And I fucking hated it.
She’s hiding things from me.
After ten minutes of only receiving blankness, I tried again.
Unknown Number: Call me. I need you.
No reply.
No notification.
Nothing.
My heart hollowed out, bleeding with every tick of the frustrating clock.
Unknown Number: Answer me. Are you okay?
Still no reply.
Snow flurried on my soul, dragging me quicker toward a horrible conclusion.
Nila...what’s happened?
The landline beside my bed jarred the silence.
The ringing imitated an awful alarm, ripping my eardrums.
Wrenching the receiver off the cradle, I tossed my cell-phone onto the sheets. “Yes?”
“Jet...are you safe to talk?”
Instantly, my body stiffened. Fuck. Sitting up too fast, my rib throbbed. “Jaz...what’s happened?”
She paused for too long.
Something’s gone wrong.
Nila!
That was it. I couldn’t heal any longer. My body had rested long enough. I was done with this fucking place.
Swinging my legs over the bed, I leapt to my feet. I didn’t give in to the gushing pain. I didn’t let my body rule me.
I’m done. I’m ending this.
“Spit it out, Jaz. Right fucking now.”
I needed to leave. I was strong enough to kill Cut and steal Nila away.
Jasmine sniffed loudly.
“Talk to me!”
Tears immediately sprung into her voice. “I—I tried, Jet. I did my best.”
My blood turned to sleet. “What did they do to her?”
Not the Third Debt. Fuck, if they touched her—!
Jaz’s voice was water and grief. “They lied to me. They told me I would be present at every punishment. I found out today that wasn’t true.”
“What punishments, Jaz?” The room closed in. My heart rate exploded. “What have they done?”
“Bonnie had the elevator blocked for maintenance. I couldn’t get downstairs, Jet. I—” A loud sob escaped her.
Fuck this.
“What did they do?! Is she alive? For fuck’s sake, talk to me!”
“They’ve been tormenting her, Kite. I’m so sorry! So sorry.”
I had no winter clothing. Nothing to change from the sweatpants and t-shirt I’d been given. I didn’t care.
I’d run buck-fucking-naked to Hawksridge if I had to.
“Get Flaw here, now. Have him bring clothing and supplies. I want him here in an hour. Do you hear me?”
She sucked back a sob. “I’ll—I’ll tell him. Kite...they’ve been using the old equipment. They used it on Elisa in those pictures. You know?”
I froze to the linoleum. “What the fuck did they use?”
Jaz went quiet.
“What did they use, Jasmine?!”
“The Iron Chair, the Scold’s Bridle, the Scavenger’s Daughter.” She cried again. “I’m so sorry, Jethro. I was there for most of them. I did my best to comfort and support her. But I couldn’t say no. I couldn’t run the risk of them knowing you’re—” More tears.
Conflicted emotions ran through me. I hated that she couldn’t save Nila. But I understood at the same time. It was too much to ask from my crippled sister. Too much for anyone living in that insane asylum.
My soul sank further. “What else, Jaz?”
Her voice shook. “Tonight...they hurt her. I tried to stop it, but I couldn’t. I didn’t even know until it was too late.”
My heart shattered. “Tonight. Fuck, Jaz. What happened tonight?”
She sniffed loudly. “They used the Heretic’s Fork. She...slipped.”
“Shit!”
The fork was lethal. One trip and it was death. My mind swam with images of the neck brace padlocked around the accused’s throat, forcing them to hold their head high for days. The deadly sharp prongs wedged against sternum and throat, just waiting for tiredness or a fall to jerk their head down and stab them through the heart and jaw.
“That—that’s not the worst of it,” she stammered.
My body turned to lava and hate. “Goddammit! What else could they do?!”
“Part of the Fourth Debt. They—they—” She couldn’t finish.
No.
No.
Fucking no!
I tore off the hospital wristband and traded patient for wrathful avenger.
They wouldn’t get away with this.
Not anymore.
They’re motherfucking dead.
“Get Flaw here. I’m coming home.”
