Fourth Debt - Pepper Winters Page 0,12
him. Why focus on a fantasy when the reality threatened to destroy us?
Flaw moved toward the door. “Would you continue doing something illegal when you had more money than you could ever spend in hundreds of lifetimes?” His eyes darkened with nostalgia for his friends. “With the estate broken up, everyone could’ve gone their separate ways. Kes planned to take a few years off and spend it in Africa injecting some of the money taken from its soil back to its people.” He sighed. “Like I said, a good man.”
Placing his hand on the doorknob, he tilted his head. “Enough talking. They’ll be waiting. Better get you there before they suspect something.”
The cold steel of the blade wedged against my back. It gave me courage but couldn’t stop my sudden tremble. “Will you give me your word you’re not taking me somewhere for those psychopaths to hurt me?”
His jaw clenched. “I just told you insider information that could get me killed if you said anything. Doesn’t that deserve a little trust?”
“It does if it was said out of understanding rather than manipulation. I’ve fallen for the kind act far more times than I’m comfortable with.”
Flaw frowned. “Would it help to know I give you full permission to gut the next bastard who tries to hurt you?”
My heart stuttered. “Permission? You think I need your permission?” Moving toward him, I stood close enough to smell his spicy aftershave and leather from his jacket. “Give me something better than your permission, Flaw.”
He straightened. “Like what?”
“Like freedom.” I waved at the window. “I could’ve run. I could’ve somehow found my way to the boundary and vanished, but they have my brother. Bring V to me and we’ll go. I’ll take my family and disappear.”
And then I’ll come back and murder them in their sleep.
His eyes burned into mine. “You know I can’t do that.”
“So, all your talk of a better future and good men…that was what? Empty words?”
He scowled. “There are things going on that you don’t know about.”
I threw my hands up. “Oh, really? Funny, I’ve never heard that before.”
Once again, thoughts flickered over his face, secrets shadowing his eyes.
“If that’s true, tell me. What’s going on?”
He looked away. “I can’t answer that.”
I laughed morbidly. “No, of course, you can’t.”
“That’s not fair.”
My temper frayed, entirely unleashed. “That’s not fair?” I poked him in the chest. “What’s fair about me being subjected to more Hawk insanity? What’s fair about having the love of my life shot in front of me? What’s fair about waiting to die?!”
His hands fisted.
“You know what; I’m done.” Shaking my head, I brushed past him into the corridor. “Just take me to them like a good minion and get out of my sight.”
He growled under his breath. “Don’t judge me. Don’t judge my actions based on what you can’t see.” Stomping in front of me, he said over his shoulder, “I know who I am, and I know what I do is right.”
Animosity flared between us.
I stayed silent, following him down the corridor toward the wing where I’d spent most time with Kestrel. We passed the room where he’d given me the Weaver Journal and headed into the hall where the library was located. My mind flickered back to the afternoon he’d found me, asking if Jethro had been to see me since completing the First Debt.
At the time, his question wasn’t too unusual. But now it took on a whole new meaning. He wasn’t asking about me. He’d been asking about his brother—keen to know how absorbing my pain had affected his empathetic sibling.
God, how bad had Jethro felt? How much did my thoughts destroy him?
“In there.” Flaw stopped outside the library.
So many memories were already stored in this place. So many breakthroughs and breakdowns as I grew from girl to woman.
Not making eye contact, he muttered, “They’re waiting for you. Better get inside.” Without a goodbye, he turned on his heel and left.
His retreating back upset me all over again. He was the last connection I had to Kestrel’s kindness and to Jethro’s ultimate plans.
Come back.
My soul scrunched tight as the ghosts of Jethro and Kes haunted the walls of their home. In twenty-four hours, I’d gone through the cycles of bereavement: disbelief, shock, despair, rage…I doubted I’d ever get through acceptance, but I embraced my anger, building a barrier that only clearheaded, cold-hearted fury could enter.
I didn’t want any other emotion when facing Cut and Daniel.
Touching the dagger hilt, I straightened my shoulders and pushed open