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A Few Hours Earlier...
“NICE OF YOU to join us, Nila.”
Cut clasped his hands in front of his black jeans. His salt and pepper hair glistened from the sconces around the room.
Daniel shoved me forward. I tripped on the blood-red rug in the centre of the space. A cough escaped as my eyes danced around yet another never before entered part of the Hall.
Amber drapes and bronze accents. War memorabilia along with a few glass cabinets displaying Luger pistols and bloodied ribbons from some battle long ago. Dust motes hovered in the air, swirling a little from the heat escaping the fireplace. The low ceiling and dark orange walls made the space den-like and cosy, full of history and artifacts.
“It’s time we moved forward with the next stage...don’t you think?” Cut sipped his goblet of cognac. “You’ve had time to repay a few of the smaller sins, but my schedule is running behind, and I can’t delay my upcoming surprise any longer.”
Vertigo tried to tackle me, but I did my best to stand tall. Furious tears froze in my eyes, glinting like daggers but not daring to fall.
I will not cry.
Not for them.
Not for anyone.
“You’re gonna enjoy the surprise, Weaver.” Daniel laughed, circling me like a vulture. “Gonna go on a little trip soon.”
A trip?
Where?
Why?
Bonnie shifted in her chair beside the fire. A woollen blanket covered her knobbly knees. “Don’t ruin the surprise, Buzzard. She’ll find out soon enough.”
Sour mistrust and hate filled my mouth. “Whatever you’re planning, I hope you’ve arranged your own funerals.”
Cut coughed on his liquor; Daniel burst out laughing. Slinging an arm over my shoulders, he whispered, “You’re becoming so much fun. I like this side of you.”
“What side? The side that doesn’t give a shit about you anymore?”
My illness had left me weak but Jethro had made me strong. His messages and assurances that we would have a future allowed me to stand up and be heard, even if it fell on deaf ears.
Dragging his foul tongue along my chin, Daniel cocked his head. “No, the side that pretends she doesn’t care but she does.” His spicy aftershave polluted the air.
It was late and I’d believed I’d avoided yet another night in this nest of vipers. When he’d come to collect me, I’d been plotting how to end it. Sitting on my bed, dressed for sleep, I wasn’t thinking empty thoughts anymore. Hidden in my fabric chest was a large piece of black cotton with chalk scribbles on how to kill each Hawk.
Poison.
Shooting.
Bludgeoning.
I’d explored every avenue, and Jasmine even offered me the use of her personal gun. She’d told me that if Cut died from unnatural causes, the estate and his children’s futures died with him. She told me that his Last Will and Testament pretty much screwed everyone. However, she had faith I could come up with a way to revoke the fine print and somehow save them.
Our relationship had changed into a mutual liaison. She leaned on me. I leaned on her.
“Know why we’ve summoned you here, Nila?” Suits of armour watched me as Cut smiled. “Care to guess what you’ll pay tonight?”
No...
Jethro...
“Before we begin, we’re going to have a little ‘show and tell.’” Daniel left me on the rug, heading toward a small table covered with black cloth. “I’m sure once you’ve seen what’s under here, you’ll thank your fucking stars that you have the power to stop us from using them.”
My heart charged, pumping blood through my veins.
“What power?”
“Obey and do what we say and they remain purely ornamental.” Removing the cloth, Daniel grabbed something and held it behind his back. “Know what this is, Nila?”
I hated that question.
Every time I’d heard it, it delivered yet more torment.
I wanted to dismantle the sentence, burn the vowels, tear apart the consonants. I never wanted to hear that jumble of words again in my life.
Keeping my head high, I didn’t look at him.
“You’d be best to answer me, Nila.” Daniel came closer, stopping in front of me. His voice hammered nails into my coffin.
I looked into his demonic eyes, nostrils flaring with anger. My hands opened and closed for a weapon. “No, I don’t know what that is and I don’t care. You’re like a bloody child looking for your parent’s approval.”
Bonnie chuckled. “Oh, tonight will teach that tongue of yours a lesson.”
“Take me back to my room. I’m done playing.”
Daniel laughed, catching my wrist and holding me steadfast. “Not so fast, Weaver.” Stroking my nipple through my white nightgown, he murmured, “Did you forget who called it quits the other night? You were tired. I could tell. The Scavenger’s Daughter would’ve driven you mad if I hadn’t stepped in.” He pinched me. “I was the one who unbuckled the iron and let you go.”
He’s right.
His concern for my wellbeing could’ve come across as kind and caring—if he hadn’t also been the one who’d swatted me with willow reed while I was bowed and imprisoned by the awful Scavenger’s Daughter.
He’d been tasked with teaching me manners after I’d refused to eat with them. He’d been told to make me bleed.
Surprisingly, he hadn’t.
He’d been happy just drawing my tears.
However, according to Cut, I was a spoil-sport.
The Daughter had been used to crush its victims. Bowing with my head on my knees, the iron bars had been excruciating, slowly tightening with a winch, folding me into fatal origami.
“What do you want from me? Appreciation? An award for mercy? What?”
Daniel narrowed his gaze, holding out the item. “What I want, Nila, is for you to play along.”
I snorted, unable to hide my disgust. “Play along while you torture me? Sure, why didn’t I think of that?” My eyes fell on the object. For once, I had no clue what it was. I didn’t recall seeing it in the torture book that V owned, and I couldn’t piece it together.
Bracing my spine, I said, “I told you. I have no idea what it is. Hurry up and get it out of my face.”
He ignored my command, smiling like a Cheshire cat. “Good. Gives me the chance to teach you something for a change.”
You’ve taught me a lot, Buzzard.
How to hate.
How to crave death.
How to plot your demise.
Daniel laughed, stroking the roundish brass device with a corkscrew in the middle and petals lodged together with a small circular handle. It was pretty in an old-fashioned, barbaric way.
“This is a Pear of Anguish.” He shoved it beneath my nose. “Ever seen one before?”
“I just told you I didn’t know what it was.”
He beamed. “Allow me to show you how it works.” I recoiled as he held the pear and twisted the small lever at the bottom. Slowly the petals expanded outward, forming a morbid four-leaf flower. “This ingenious device has three uses.”
I swallowed hard as he kept spreading the petals.
“Use number one was for liars and instigators. The pear was forced into their throat and slowly opened until their jaw cracked.”
I shuddered.
“Use number two was for gay men or priests who broke their faith. It was shoved up their arse and cranked wide until their arsehole ripped.” He laughed, flaring out the pear to full expansion. “The third was for women. Adulterers and nuns who’d lied about being virgins for their God or faithful spouses. It was shoved up their twats, and only once they’d been stretched were they deemed repentant enough to deserve the Judas Cradle or Brazen Bull.”
I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to imagine the rest of the torture devices. There was too much joy in creating so much pain. I couldn’t stomach it. I’d seen photos of the Brazen Bull—of stuffing a poor person inside a bronze statue and lighting a fire beneath. The victim roasted alive, while the smoke of their charred remains escaped through the nostrils of the bull.
I shivered.
His fingers caressed my cheek. “Don’t worry. I won’t use it tonight. Only show and tell, remember?” Snickering, he placed the Pear of Anguish on a side table and picked up a wicked pincher device.
Cut said, “You’d do well to behave, Nila. One misstep and they become part of the toys used. Got it?”
I glowered, not stooping to his level with a response.
Jethro...
Keep my thoughts on him.
Whatever they planned to do tonight would be bearable as long as my mind found a way to be free.
Daniel waved the next piece in my face. “Any clue?”
I shook my head, hating him more every passing second.
“It’s called a Breast Slicer.” Daniel opened the pinchers which were formed into two wicked spikes. “This would be stabbed into the outer edges of a woman’s tits, impaling her.”
My nipples twinged as blood raced faster.
“Then they’d be ripped out as fast and as hard as possible.” He demonstrated with a quick jerk. “No more tits.” Fondling the awful item, he laughed. “Women had it pretty hard in medieval England. Wouldn’t you agree?”
That one I did agree with.
I nodded.
I expected more tormenting, but Daniel grew bored.
Tossing the Breast Slicer to clang against the Pear of Anguish, he looked at Cut. “Can I start, or do you want me to do something else first?”
What’s going to happen?
Whatever it was, he’d given me fair warning. It would be only fair to use that knowledge for my benefit. My mind charged ahead with gruesome plans. If I remained untethered, I might be able to use the Breast Slicer on him and then ram the Pear of Anguish down Bonnie’s throat. Cut would have to wait—or I could skewer him with a poker from the black marble fireplace.
Cut steepled his fingers. “You can start, Buzzard.”
Daniel clapped his hands. “Hear that, Nila? Permission. Fucking sister has done a good job at keeping you out of bounds, but tonight she’s not invited.” He grinned. “She’s also not invited to the secret surprise we have for you. That will just be you, me, and Cut. Jasmine thinks she’s won. But she won’t be coming with us.” His golden eyes darkened. “And that means there won’t be anyone to stop me.”
Loathsome repugnance ran through my body.
He’s talking about the Third Debt.
“Get on with it, Dan,” Bonnie muttered.
Daniel prowled around me. “Don’t rush me, Grandmamma. I’m enjoying myself.” He gathered my long hair, playing with it.
I couldn’t unglue myself from the rug.
“You’re very pretty, Nila. I can see why Jethro thought with his cock rather than his brain.” Braiding my hair, he inhaled me. “But unlike my broken brother, I can keep a level head around you.” His entire body reeked of greed and gluttony—not on food or money—but power over another’s life.
My life.
His hands dropped from my hair, ensnaring my wrists. “Because of that, I don’t trust you. And tonight, it’s all about obedience.”
I gasped as he yanked my hands behind me, binding them with a rope I hadn’t seen. I squirmed in his hold, wanting to escape whatever would come next. So much for my plan of killing them.
“Don’t do this.” My voice was heavy with fury. Don’t take me away from Jethro when he’s only just come back to me. To have such love and hope granted and then stripped away was the height of cruelty. I loathed my fate. I despised my karma.
Daniel laughed loudly, his baritone bouncing off the den walls. “Don’t worry. You have full control over tonight.”
“You keep saying that. What does it mean?”
Spinning me in his hold, he stroked my cheek. “I mean that you’ll have a choice of what happens.”
“If I have a choice, then I choose for this to end. Right now.”
He chuckled. “Not that simple, Weaver.”
My wrists fought against the twine. I forced myself to ignore the discomfort and rapidly building fear. My unhappiness didn’t matter to Daniel. He only saw what he wanted—a girl to torture and daddy’s approval to do it.
It’s all over.
Jethro had come back from the dead. But it was too late.
Cut placed his goblet on a side table, standing upright. “Are you ready to begin, Nila? Ready to pay the Fourth Debt?”
What answer could I give? I reverted to illiteracy. I forgot how to talk because speech never saved me. Only actions would, but I couldn’t do that, either. My arms were fastened tightly.
Daniel pushed me forward. Cut caught me but I refused to look him in the eye. Instead, I looked over his shoulder—back ramrod straight, chin tilted with defiance.
Cut’s golden gaze glowed. “I’ll take that as a yes.” Chuckling, he stroked my diamond collar. He bent closer, his breath echoing in my ear. “It’s a new era, Nila. And I can’t wait to share my secrets with you when we get to where we’re going. Tonight you’ll pay the easier part of the Fourth Debt. And later...you’ll pay the rest.”
I shivered. The depths of depression I’d crawled from tried to tug me back. I had to look strong, even if I didn’t feel it.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll find out when we get there. But I’ll give you a name...Almasi Kipanga.”
My nose wrinkled. It didn’t give any hint. “What the hell is that?”
He smiled. “You’ll see.”
Bonnie stood. The rap of her cane was a third footstep as she inched toward her family and victim. Her hazel eyes met mine.
Without the black blanket covering her legs, her outfit was visible: a maroon skirt and dark brown jacket. Cynical thoughts ran riot in my head. She’s wearing colours that won’t show blood.
My heart unhinged, racing erratically.
What the hell will they do?
Bonnie smiled, showing yellowing teeth and far too much smug exhilaration. “Let’s begin, shall we?”
Daniel wrapped his fist in my hair, yanking me against him. The long strands licked around his wrist, binding us together. “I’m up for that.”
Horror consumed my reflexes, nulling me from intelligence.
Think.
There must be something—
There is something.
I could call for Jasmine. I could scream as loud as I could for Bonnie’s protégé and hope to God she could save me.
But then I’d ruin her life, too.
How many more people had to die before this was over? Kestrel was dying. Jethro was healing. Jasmine had already paid more than I knew.
Bonnie snapped her fingers. The door behind me opened and shuffling feet announced we had visitors. I held my breath as the guests made their way to stand by the fireplace.
“No...” My heart layered in tar as Vaughn marched to a stop, courtesy of the mountain of malice, Marquise. His black eyes met mine and in twin language we held an entire conversation. Possibly our last conversation forever.
I’m so sorry, Threads.
I’m so sorry, V.
I love you.
I love you, too.
“Mr. Weaver here is going to help us extract the first part of the Fourth Debt,” Bonnie said, limping closer. “You’ve paid the First, Second, and Third—well, not quite, but we’ll get to that—you’ve paid debts for our ancestor, his daughter, and son. But you’re yet to pay for his wife.”
“Whatever this is about, just leave her alone.” Vaughn struggled in his identical bindings. Hands behind his back, wrists locked together—I felt a kinship with him that I hadn’t had in the other debts.
All of those, I’d been on my own. Jethro had been beside me, but he wasn’t family.
This one was personal.
My brother would see just what I’d been dealing with.
I hated that but was grateful, too.
His presence would force me to be stronger than I might have been.
Jethro...I’m sorry I lied to you.
Cut cleared his throat. “Daniel will inform you of your history lesson, and then we shall begin. You will consent to this debt being claimed, Nila. Just like you’ll consent to the rest.”
“Stop. Wait! Leave her alone.” Vaughn struggled against Marquise, his eyes frantic. “Whatever you’re about to do. Fucking stop it. She’s suffered enough, goddammit!”
Bonnie sighed. “Marquise.”
The big man quirked an eyebrow, holding on to my brother as if he were a fly on a string. “Yes, Madame?”
“Gag him.”
“Of course.” Marquise let V go with one hand and dug into his back pocket. With inhuman strength, he slammed my brother against his mountainous chest and forced the black bandana through his lips.
“Wait!” I launched forward, only to be jerked back by Daniel. “This is between us. Let him go.”
Bonnie sneered, “Oh, he’ll be let go, alright.”
My heart slipped from tar to fossil. “What do you mean?”
Please don’t mean death. Please!
“I mean if you play this game correctly, Vaughn can go home tonight.”
My heart exploded with hope. “Truly?”
Do I dare believe them?
Disbelief shook its head, but the cruel spark of optimism begged it to be true.
Bonnie smiled. “Play correctly, and he goes home, untouched. He returns to his family because of your sacrifice out of love.”
Vaughn mumbled something unintelligible behind the gag.
“However, if you play incorrectly, he’ll stay here. He’ll suffer right along with you and we’ll end his journey the same moment we end yours.”
He’ll die with me.
That could never happen. I couldn’t be responsible for my brother’s death.
“You have my word, I’ll play. Send him home now. You don’t need him to make me behave.” I couldn’t look at Vaughn while I traded my life for his. He’d be full of guilt and rage at not being able to stop me.
Cut rubbed a hand over his mouth. “If you are a good girl, Nila, and he goes home, don’t think he’s untouchable. Don’t think this is mercy or that we’ve overlooked his ability to bring havoc to our world again. This is another checkmate in a game you’re too stupid to understand.”
A question burned in my chest. I needed to know the answer, but at the same time, it led to such confusion. “Why?”
Cut paused. “Why? I just told you why—if you don’t obey—”
“No, not that.” I can’t believe I’m doing this. “Why let him go? I thought you were keeping him until I paid...”
My voice trailed off.
I know why...
Cut chuckled. “Answered your own question, didn’t you?”
My head turned into a bowling ball, sagging on my shoulders.
Vaughn was going home because I wouldn’t be. Whatever Cut’s surprise was...it was the Final Debt. Somehow, he believed he could keep the police at bay. That my brother wouldn’t bring down their empire. That he was safe to continue with his murdering schemes.
Imbecile.
He’s truly slipped from malicious to insane.
Vaughn exploded in Marquise’s grip. He kicked and wriggled, yelling at the top of his voice, nonsense curses spilling from his gagged mouth.
“Shut him up,” Bonnie snapped.
Marquise clamped a hand over Vaughn’s nose and mouth, slowly suffocating him.
“Stop!” I wriggled in Daniel’s arms.
“Don’t make me hurt you before we’ve begun, Weaver.”
I couldn’t tear my gaze away from my brother as his face turned pink and eyes bugged for breath.
Cut checked his gold Rolex. “Right, let’s begin. I have somewhere else to be tonight.”
Daniel let me go, and Marquise dropped his hand. Vaughn sucked in wheezing breaths as Daniel planted himself in the middle of me and Vaughn. “Grandmamma, the dice?”
Bonnie inched forward, her arthritis turning her stiff. Pulling a dice free from her jacket pocket, she handed it to her grandson. With eyes ordering obedience and no room for error, she stepped back.
Daniel puffed out his chest. “As you know, Nila, you’ve paid the debts for the original Hawk family, but you haven’t paid for the glue that held the family together. The mother was the reason we outstripped your family in wealth, power, and rank. However, before you learn what she did to make such a thing happen, you must learn the daily struggle she went through to keep her family alive.”
Cut nodded proudly, giving Daniel the limelight.
In a sick way, the history lesson was a reprieve. Storytelling by a monster before he ate me for dinner.
“You’re not a mother, so I doubt you’ll understand completely, but this little game will prove how far she’d go to save her children.”
Daniel held up the dice. “For every roll, I’ll give you two scenarios. Option one, you have the ability to save yourself. Option two, you’ll have the ability to save your brother. You will learn the depth of my ancestor’s compassion. She wasn’t a martyr—she was a fucking saint. Putting everyone she cared about first.”
Daniel rolled the dice in his fingers. “If there was food, she’d feed her family and starve herself. If there was shelter, she’d make sure her children were warm while she would freeze. If there was pain, she’d put her loved ones first and accept the punishment. She truly was an exemplary woman.”
His voice deepened. “And your fucking ancestors took advantage of her kind-hearted spirit. They tortured her by holding the lives of her children over her. They went above and beyond to make her suffer. Weaver used a dice, similar to this one, whenever he wanted her to do something. Fuck him or sleep in the pigsty. Crawl on her knees or go hungry. She was the strongest member of our lineage because, not only did she never break, but she also singlehandedly destroyed the Weaver’s stature, became friends with the sovereign, and ensured the Hawk name became one of the most feared and wealthiest overnight.”
He laughed. “Strong fucking woman, huh?” His eyes darkened. “Bet you wish you were half as strong as her.”
He wasn’t wrong. My emotional sadness and bodily weakness from the past few weeks haunted me. I’d let them get to me. I’d cracked, if not broken completely.
I’m weak.
Knowing I came from such an awful bloodline made me guilty for our wealth and success. Our prosperity was built on the destitution of others, but just like the crown and church terrorized its people, the gentry picked on lower class. It didn’t make it right, but that was the world back then. Corrupted by power and free to torture.
It wasn’t my responsibility to pay for their sins. It wasn’t anyone’s. It was evolution from barbarism to better behaviour.
Daniel smirked. “What are the most basic instincts of a mother? What is the fundamental requirement for having children?”
I pursed my lips. My eyes remained locked on Vaughn.
To defend against people who mean them harm. Just like I’ll defend V from you.
Daniel continued, “We all know it’s a mother’s job to sacrifice herself for her children. Let’s see if you can be that strong for your sibling.” He shoved the dice under my nose. “This isn’t an ordinary dice. No numbers. See?”
I flinched.
“Only two colours. Red and black. Want to know what those colours mean?”
God, please let this end.
“Red is for blood—a physical toll you’ll have to submit to, in order for your brother to avoid the punishment for you.” He chuckled. “And black is for psychological—those hard to swallow decisions where there’s no right answer but only two shades of fucked-up.”
“Wrap it up, Dan,” Cut said. “Let’s get on with it.”
Daniel nodded. “Fine.” He tossed the dice from palm to palm. “What should your first trial be, Weaver? Something easy or hard?”
Vaughn fought in Marquise’s hold.
I ignored him. This wasn’t about him. This was about me protecting him. The Hawks already knew I’d accept every task, no matter what it was. It wasn’t a choice, but a necessity. Bearing pain myself was doable, watching my twin go through it...unthinkable.
Rubbing his chin, Daniel murmured, “I think my first roll will be...” Shaking the dice, he released it. The plastic bounced against the thick carpet, coming to a stop on black.
Black...psychological.
I stiffened as an idea lit his face. Leering at Vaughn, he said, “You have two choices, Nila. First, stay where you are and watch your brother suffer two blows to his gut, courtesy of Marquise. Or...”
I stood taller. “Or what?”
“Or...do what my ancestor had to do every night. She had to fuck her employer.”
My stomach bubbled with disgust. My tongue desiccated with horror. “I—I—no.”
Daniel grabbed his cock. “Gonna fuck me for the Third Debt. Might as well get used to it, bitch.”
I wanted to throw up.
Vaughn wriggled and groaned in his binds.
Visions of willingly submitting to Daniel in front of my brother caused tears to swell. I couldn’t...could I?
Incredibly, Bonnie came to my rescue. “I’m not watching a rutting. Kiss him, Ms. Weaver. Save the rest for a room without my presence.”
My heart scurried like a terrified rabbit.
Daniel bared his teeth. “Don’t override me. I’ll get her to do whatever the fuck I want.”
Cut crossed his arms. “Not tonight. You’ll have her. And it’s going to be a far sight better than a quick fuck on the floor.” Coming toward me, his eyes lit up with secrets. “We’ll be somewhere no one can touch you. And you’ll do whatever we say.”
Vaughn struggled as Cut pressed a fleeting kiss on my mouth. “Now, go kiss my son to avoid your brother being punched, and then we can move on.”
Daniel grumbled, “Fine, kiss me, whore. But not just any kiss; something that will make me believe you mean it.”
V jerked in Marquise’s hold, the groan in his chest a resounding plea for him to take the punishment. Didn’t he see? I couldn’t live with myself if I had a way of sparing him more pain.
A kiss is nothing. A kiss I can do.
A small price to pay for my brother’s wellbeing.
Linking my hands together, I lashed myself tighter than the twine. Holding my chin high, I turned to Daniel.
His eyebrow rose, intrigued and eager. His eyes slowly filled with lust as I crossed the small space and stood on my tiptoes before him. His chin came down, lips parted, but he didn’t cross the final distance.
He waited for me.
He waited to accept a kiss I swore I’d never give him—no matter how much they tried to break me.
Incredulously, I felt as if I cheated on Jethro.
I’m sorry.
Holding my breath, taming my roiling stomach, I pressed my mouth against his. He was warm and tasted slightly salty, but he didn’t force me to deepen or stick his tongue down my throat.
It all hinged on me.
I have to make him believe.
Otherwise, it would’ve been for nothing.
Repulsion worked my gag reflex. I wanted to pull away. But I pressed my mouth harder against his, squeezing my eyes to annul the truth of who I kissed.
I’m stronger than this.
Finding my last remaining strength, I licked Daniel’s bottom lip.
He groaned as I slipped my tongue into his mouth. I wasn’t tentative or hesitant. I’d learned how to kiss thanks to Jethro’s majesty at drawing desire from me.
If Daniel wanted me to make him believe, I’d make him bloody believe.
His chest rose and fell, brushing my nipples, reminding me of what Jethro had done to me. The anger inside him seemed to pause, lulled by whatever magic I held over him.
My throat closed; I ran out of breath.
I reached my limit.
Pulling away, I spat on the rug by his feet. “You believed me. You can’t deny it.”
Breath was hard to catch as I stared triumphantly at his trousers. “There’s evidence that you can’t hide, Buzzard.” I cocked my head at the tented material. “You can’t touch him. I did what you asked.”
The softness of him taking what I gave vanished. Lashing out, he grabbed my hair. He shook me, rage darkening his face. “Just wait till we make you repay the Third Debt, whore. You’ll regret that.”
Vaughn grunted again, but no one paid him any attention.
Bonnie remained quiet, letting her youngest grandson do what he wanted.
Letting me go, Daniel plucked the dice from the floor. Shaking it, he tossed it down again.
Red.
Pain.
I swallowed hard, doing my best not to show fear.
Vaughn didn’t do such a good job. He fought and squirmed, earning a punch to his gut—even after I’d kissed Daniel to prevent it.
“Don’t! I paid the damn requirement!”
Cut clucked his tongue. “Marquise. She’s right. Don’t hurt him unless she refuses.”
Vaughn doubled over, his legs buckling in Marquise’s hold.
Daniel pointed at the dice. “Pain, Nila.” Tapping his chin, he pretended to think. “What can I make you do?”
Cut murmured, “Hang on, I’m calling rights on this one.”
I tensed.
He tilted his head in my direction. “Nila will pay that one for me with no complaints but she’ll do it when we get to where we’re going. Isn’t that right, Nila?”
My eyes flickered to V.
Cut’s voice licked around me. “You’ll know what it is when I ask, and you’ll permit it. Because if you don’t, I’ll just kill your brother and be fucking done with it.”
V growled. I stayed quiet. I’d played this game longer than he had, and I knew how to deal with Cut now.
Narrowing my eyes, I asked, “Why drag it on? Why not just kill me here?”
Cut clenched his jaw. “If you have to ask that, you haven’t been paying attention.” He stalked forward. “Agree to what I just asked and you’ll learn before the end.”
There was no other answer I could give. I glowered. “Fine.”
He smirked. “Good girl.”
Daniel pouted but shook off his disappointment by collecting the dice. “Oh, well, my turn again.” Shaking the dice, he snickered, “Ready for another?” He rubbed his lips in lewd reminder. “Maybe I can have you blow me next.”
Acid drenched my insides.
Daniel rolled the dice. The horrible thing bounced off the rug, coming to a stop on red.
Shit.
I sucked in a heavy breath.
You can do it. Do it for V.
Daniel grinned. “Red, huh? Pain...” His eyes drifted to the table where the Pear of Anguish sat.
God, no!
Marching over, he picked up an awful looking contraption peeking out from under the black cloth. “This will do.”
I stiffened as he came back, dangling the torture equipment just like Cut had with the Scold’s Bridle.
“This ought to be painful enough.”
My eyes drank in the leather collar and long metal bar on the front. Each end was carved into two sharp prongs.
“Know what this is?”
That damn question again.
Unfortunately, I knew the answer this time. “It’s a Heretic’s Fork.”
Was this a manor house of the fucking Tower of London? Where did they keep these barbaric devices?
“Smart girl.” Daniel grinned. “And you know how it works?”
I made the mistake of looking over at Vaughn. Saliva dripped down his chin from the gag, his eyes blazing with sorrow.
I looked away. “It’s strapped to the accused neck and the fork forces the person to keep their head high to avoid the prongs from entering their chest and throat.”
Bonnie smiled. “You’ve finally shown some aptitude, Ms. Weaver.” Cocking her head, she ordered, “Strap it on her, Daniel.”
“Be my pleasure.” The thread of insanity that infected Cut glowed in Daniel’s eyes as he moved behind me. His cold hands brushed aside my hair as he brought the horrible thing beneath my chin. “Put your head up.”
Tears prickled my eyes as I raised my chin, staring at the ceiling. The square wooden panels kept me company as the fork buckled around my throat and diamond collar.
My neck arched, keeping the delicate skin safe from being stabbed. My teeth hurt from clenching, and my head pounded with a rapidly spreading headache.
You’re failing again. Don’t give in.
I blinked back tears, straightening my spine as if that would bolster my courage.
You’re breaking. They’re winning.
I wished I could tear out my brain from tormenting me. The Hawks did that enough without my mind disabling me, too.
Once the buckle was firmly fastened, Daniel inspected his handiwork. “You look rather regal like that. Guess I can’t make you blow me this round; otherwise, you’d kill yourself with every suck.” He cackled at his tasteless joke.
Vaughn groaned in the corner but I didn’t look over.
I let my vision unfocus, granting a small reprieve from everything.
Please, let this end soon.
Slapping my arse, Daniel commanded, “Walk a few laps. Show me how well you can move with your head high and your wrists bound.”
My heart chugged hard as my worst enemy swooped into being.
No, not now!
The room swirled with vertigo. Sickness fogged my head, and I lost all sense of balance.
Don’t fall!
I’d kill myself.
Moaning, I did my best to equalize.
It didn’t help.
The room shot black; I stumbled forward, falling, falling.
Someone yelled, “Catch her!”
Arms wrapped around my body as I plummeted. I jerked to a stop, hanging in some horrible embrace as the world dipped and swelled. Slowly, I traded oppressive blackness for the orange den.
Swallowing hard, I shoved away the remaining episode. “I’m—I’m fine.”
Daniel planted me on my feet. “Got a fucking death wish, Weaver?”
I wanted to shake away the cobwebs left in my head, but I didn’t dare. I trembled in place, itching with claustrophobia. My neck strained beyond comfort, aching already.
“You gonna faint on me again?”
I calmed my breathing. “I didn’t faint. It’s vertigo, you arsehole.”
“She’s had it since she arrived,” Cut said. “Three laps, Ms. Weaver. Get through that without killing yourself and we’ll remove the fork.”
Three laps. Three lifetimes.
“Can you untie my hands?”
“Nope.” Daniel pushed me forward. “Go on, be a good prancing pony and show us what you can do.”
My knees wobbled, but I shuffled forward. I didn’t know the room enough to avoid ottomans and small coffee tables. My eyes couldn’t look where my feet went. I was basically blind.
Their gaze burned into me as I made my way to the perimeter of the room and followed the wall as best I could. Couches forced me to go around; I bashed my knee on a magazine rack and stubbed my toe on a desk.
I felt like a prized pony on a race-track—keeping my head high, my knees higher, prancing for my life, only to fail and be shot for my efforts.
It took a long time to navigate and vertigo kept playing with my balance. I had to stop a couple of times, swaying uncomfortably. By the time I made my way past V for the third time, silent tears spilled from my eyes and I was on the precipice of breaking.
I wanted it over with. I wanted to be free. I wanted to run.
Run. Run. Run.
Vertigo grappled me again, hurling me headfirst into a vicious attack, scrambling me like whisked cream.
Shit!
I fell, tripping over something and colliding with air. There was nothing to catch me, nothing to stop me soaring from standing to dying.
Time slowed as I tumbled forward. My hands fought against the rope, and my mind screeched instructions.
Keep your head up! Keep your chin high!
My hands were tied. I couldn’t stop my trajectory. All I could do was pray I survived.
The thick carpet cushioned my knees as I slammed to the ground. My shoulders crumpled, and I cried out in agony as the prongs bit into my jaw and chest, biting their way into my flesh.
Am I dead?
I couldn’t tell.
Pain smarted from everywhere.
A shadow fell over me as Cut ducked to my level. “Whoops.” His lips spread into a horrific smile. “Sorry, my foot got in the way.”
And that was it.
That final tiny straw that made it almost impossible for me to keep going.
I withdrew into myself. I felt myself disappearing. My hate fizzled. My hope died. I had nothing else to give. Nothing else to feel. The throbbing of the wound no longer bothered me because my senses shut down.
There came a point when the body ceased feeling pain. The receptors were tired of transmitting an important message—only to have that message ignored.
I’d neglected my body for far too long and now it’d abandoned me.
Cut paused mid-chuckle, understanding I’d reached rock-bottom. Without a word, he unbuckled the fork and left me alone on the carpet.
Silence reigned heavily in the den. No one moved.
I didn’t care if I never moved again.
You won.
I don’t care what you do anymore.
They’d taken my innocence. My vengeance. My love. My life.
I had nothing to go back to. Nothing to move toward.
Stagnant. Locked in a present I could no longer survive or endure.
“Get up, Weaver.” Daniel stood over me.
I stood.
“Come here.” He snapped his fingers.
I went.
“Let’s roll again, shall we?”
I nodded.
Monochromatic and hell-bound thoughts. That was all that remained of me.
I didn’t notice as Daniel tossed the dice.
I didn’t look as it rolled to a stop by my foot. I didn’t care when it didn’t flop to one side, staying poised on its edge—neither black nor red, both physical and psychological pain.
As far as the debts went, as far as their fun continued, I’d checked out and left.
I had no future. What did I care about my present?
Daniel ducked to collect the dice. “It’s as if the ghost of our ancestor controlled it.”
Bonnie nodded. “It is rather serendipitous.”
Cut came forward, pulling free a large pair of shears from his back pocket. “Here you go, son.” His eyes met mine, but he faded once again to the side-lines. Deep in his light-brown eyes was the smallest level of concern. He sensed I’d given up. His enjoyment had been taken away from him.
Daniel held up the scissors. “Know what these are for?”
I remained mute.
“Know what I’m going to use them on?”
I rejected his every taunt.
“These are to take something from you. Something they took from my ancestor.” Wrapping his arm around my shoulder, he pointed the scissors in Vaughn’s direction. “The Hawk woman did anything she needed in order to feed her family. She sold her every asset until she had one last remaining. Know what that was?”
V’s red-rimmed eyes howled with sadness.
I tried to care, but couldn’t.
V would move on.
I’d stay here.
Locked in this world with dice and Hawks.
Daniel squeezed me, trying to cultivate a response. “It was her hair. She cut off her hair in order to keep her family alive for a few more days.” His voice turned to gravel. “Now it’s your turn to sacrifice. Your choice is simple. Allow me to cut off your hair—suffer a psychological toll—all in order to save your brother from a painful handicap.”
I continued to stare blankly.
Take what you want.
I no longer cared.
“Marquise, hold up his hand,” Bonnie ordered.
Marquise spun V around to face away and splayed his fingers. I glanced at the swollen blue digits from being tied so tightly. My own fingers felt the same—numb and dying from lack of blood.
“Hair or his finger, Nila. That’s the deal.”
His voice sliced like a sickle through my blankness. But I didn’t move.
Daniel vibrated with anger. “Hair or finger, bitch.” He gnashed the shears together. “One or the other. You have ten seconds to decide.”
I didn’t need ten seconds.
I already knew my decision.
I wasn’t vain enough or alive enough to care.
“Hair. Take my hair.”
Daniel scowled. “Where’s your fight gone? You’re being a fucking wet fish.”
I found a magic in ignoring him.
He couldn’t torment me anymore.
None of them could.
I didn’t think about Jethro or Jasmine or home. I didn’t think at all. About anything.
Prowling behind me, he gathered my hair in his fist. “You have such beautiful hair. Last chance to change your mind, Weaver.”
My voice held no fear or objection. If my tone were a colour, it would be colourless. “Do whatever you want.”
I’d never cut my hair.
Ever.
It was a stupid reason but one I’d done for my mother. She’d loved to play with it. To plait it, thread it with flowers and ribbon—show me off as her little princess.
That was my last remaining memory of her, and Daniel had stolen that, too.
“Gonna slice every strand off your head,” Daniel promised. His touch tugged on my hair, twining it into a rope. “Ready to say goodbye?”
My heart didn’t hurry. My eyes didn’t burn.
“Don’t fucking answer me. See if I care.” Daniel’s fingers yanked harder and the rusty yawn of the scissors bled through my ears.
My eyes closed as the first snip turned me into a stranger.
Physically, I couldn’t feel pain, but spiritually, I howled in anguish. It hurt. It hurt so so much to have such a poignant piece of me stolen without fighting, without screaming, without protecting what made me me.
The second snip broke me.
It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.
The third snip destroyed me.
Stop, stop, stop...
The fourth snip completely annihilated me.
I have nothing left.
“Can’t tell you how satisfying this is.” Daniel laughed, cutting with no finesse, hacking through the thick black strands.
I was alone in this.
Alone and shorn like some animal for slaughter.
All I could do was mourn silently.
Snip, snip, snip.
My curtain of ebony hair disappeared with every scissor-slice. Cascades of thick blackness puddled, devastated and dead, on the blood-red rug. I’d given up the last part of me—the final toll for my brother’s freedom.
I’m doing it for him, for love, for family, for hope.
I said goodbye.
To my youth.
To my childhood.
Snip, snip, snip...
This was the end.
Snip, snip, snip...
It was over.
