“About bloody time,” she muttered, wheeling forward like a tank. “Thought you were supposed to be intelligent.”
Tapestries hung silent and repressive. Paintings of dead monarchs sniffed with disdain as we scurried silently like tiny mice. The awful feeling of being swept away with no control fisted around my heart. I wanted to ask so many questions, but something held me back.
He’s alive.
And I wanted him to stay that way.
“How was I supposed to know? You were so—”
“Believable?” She looked over her shoulder, her arms propelling her forward. “I’ve learned from the best.”
Awkward silence fell. We headed deeper into shadow.
Jasmine broke the brittle tension. “What made you doubt now?”
I paused. I’d asked myself that same question. The only conclusion I could come up with was: because I’m finally listening to the truth rather than what I hear.
I didn’t reply. Instead, I answered her question with another. “Everything that happened in the meeting…that wasn’t real?”
Her lips twisted into a mysterious smirk. “You already know the answer to that.”
“I don’t know anything anymore.”
She laughed under her breath. “That’s a testament to my planning skills.”
We ducked under another camera. “Aren’t you afraid they’ll catch us?”
She gave me a hard smile. “Nope.”
“But won’t Cut see the recordings?”
She smiled wider. “Nope.”
I didn’t bother asking again. She’d done something. And I guessed I’d never know.
My fitness level wasn’t useful as we ducked and weaved through the ancient Hall. Jasmine kept up a wicked pace, and every heartbeat crushed me with the same unbelievable message.
He’s alive.
He’s alive.
Get to him faster.
Chasing Jasmine in her all-black attire and swiftness, my mind filled with other questions. Where did she spend her days? How did she get around? How had she kept this a secret? “How do you move from upstairs to the ground floor?”
Her eyes widened at my seemingly random question. “I have a private elevator in the centre of the house. It leads to a few floors.”
“There are more?”
She snorted. “Seriously? Haven’t you seen the size of this place? There’s probably hundreds of rooms you still haven’t seen.
Prisons and bedrooms and secret vaults full of treasures.
Could Jethro’s mum be hidden in one? Could there be countless hidden mysteries just waiting to bring the Hawks down?
A chill ran down my spine. “Tell me what’s happening. Where’s Jethro?”
She shook her head. “You’ll just have to trust me.”
“I’ve already proven that I do.” Removing the dresser and following Jasmine had shown two things: one, that I was willing to put my life in her hands, and two, that I was willing to do anything in order to save her brother.
He’s alive.
He’s alive.
It’s not over.
“All you need to know is he’s holding on, and I need your help.”
“Anything. I’ll do whatever you need.”
Her eyes softened. “I was hoping you’d say that.” The mask of collected woman slipped, showing her terror over her brother’s life.
My heart tripped into a knot. “Kes. Is he alive, too?”
My spine locked, bracing for bad news. It seemed too much to have Jethro back from the dead, let alone another.
Jasmine sucked in a breath. “He is. For now.”
My hands fisted. I wanted to sprint faster. “What does that mean?”
She glared ahead, stress lining her mouth. “They were moved before Cut could dispose of them. We’ve done what we could, but it isn’t good enough.” She swallowed hard. “We’re running out of time.”
We...
Her and Flaw?
“Where did you put them?”
“The only place not monitored.”
“And where is that?”
She lowered her voice. “It doesn’t matter. You’re not coming with me.”
My stomach flipped. I had to see him. Had to hug him and kiss him and tell him I never stopped loving him. “You came for my help. I’m coming with you.”
Jasmine pursed her lips. “It has to be this way. It has to be tonight. And it has to be now. The longer you argue, the less time we have and the worse it will be for all of us. Got it?”
I wanted to argue—to slap her and let go of the helpless anger inside. Instead, I curbed my temper. “Fine.”
But the minute he’s safe and well, I’m claiming him. He’s mine, not yours.
Flying around a corner, Jaz whispered, “Now, hush. Answers will come later.”
This part of the house hinted at its age.
We were no longer in the manicured wealth of parlours, dayrooms, and libraries.
This part had an aura of forbidden.
An abandoned aura.
An aura of death and warning.
Portraits didn’t hang, showing pockmarked faded walls. The threadbare carpets misted with dust as our footsteps disturbed ancient dirt, and my cardigan and leggings weren’t enough to combat the icy chill emitting from the walls.
Hawksridge Hall lived and breathed as surely as its inhabitants, but down here…here was forgotten, only fit for cretins and rodents.
I blew on my fingers, gritting my teeth against a shiver.
“Here.” Jaz suddenly stopped. “This is the room.”
I skidded to a halt, staring at the imposing door with a brass locking plate engraved with weasels and stoats. “What is this place?”
“It used to be the servant’s quarters, but an old water pipe burst a century ago and destroyed everything. My grandfather never got around to fixing it. This wing has been ignored ever since.”
Sounded about right. The Hawks only seemed to value those worth something valuable to their needs and wants. The moment they outlived their purpose, they were either dispatched or cast aside.
A tiny shadow scurried past my line of sight. I inched closer to Jasmine’s chair. I wouldn’t be against leaping into her lap to get off the floor if rats came to visit. “And what are we doing here?”
He’s alive.
He’s alive.
Surely, she didn’t keep him here.
Her bronze gaze glowed in the gloom. “Using one life to save another.”
A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold shot down my back. “What does that mean?”
I’m asking that question a lot lately.
She looked away, fumbling in the black blanket over her legs. “You’ll see.” Pulling free an old-fashioned key, she inserted it into the lock.
With a loud groan of protest, the rusty mechanism sprang open, cracking open the large moisture-logged door.
A noise sounded inside—fleeting—like a small gasp of dismay.
“Come on.” Jasmine pushed her rims, coasting from corridor to room. The moment we were inside, she closed the door. “Get the light, will you? The switch is to your left.”
I spread my fingers out in the dark, tracing the chilly wall and finding an ancient nub, which I assumed was illumination.
I pressed it.
Light spilled from a single cobwebbed chandelier above. The room came into view. Out of every place I’d visited in Hawksridge Hall, this was the worst room by far. Faded, chipped mint-green paint covered the walls. Beige carpet stretched across floorboards, moth-eaten and musty.
And the cold.
I hugged myself from the bitter bite of winter.
An entirely different season lived in this place. No central heating, no fire to ward off frost and snow.
Had Jethro ever been here? Was this where he learned how to embrace the coldness, so he could hide his condition?
He’s alive…
“Who—who’s there?”
No! Oh, m
y God.
My stomach clenched; vertigo stole my vision in a blip of blackness.
I didn’t have to see to know.
I’d know that voice anywhere.
“It’s me!” My legs unlocked, hurling me across the large room to the single cot pushed against the wall. Condensation dripped like frigid tears down the cold surface, and the only window didn’t perform its job of keeping the outside elements from entering. The stunning stained glass depiction of summer flowers had turned into a dartboard of holes. Intricate violets had been smashed, leaving a whistling draft to funnel around daisies and dandelions, slipping into the space unwanted.
Falling to my knees by the bed, I reached for my beloved twin’s face. “It’s me, V.”
“Threads?” He rolled onto his back, revealing swollen cheekbones, bruised jaw, and cut lip. His hands were tied, resting on his belly, and a black blindfold covered half his face, flapping over his nose every time he breathed.
“God, I’ll rip off their balls for this.” I fumbled behind his head. “Lean forward; let me get this off you.”
He did as I asked, groaning as he arched his head off the rank pillow.
Scrambling at the knot, I shoved it away the moment it loosened.
His eyes opened, blinking a few times. His mottled face turned to me. My heart cracked all over again, drinking in the signs of the horrendous beating he’d endured at the hands of Cut and Daniel.
In one afternoon, Cut had almost killed my brother and shot his sons. Yet, he hadn’t hurt any of them enough to end them.
Perhaps, there is hope after all.
Good had triumphed over evil.
Good would win over evil.
Just wait and see.
His eyes focused, face twisting in rage. “Threads. Oh, fuck, I’m so glad to see you.” He tried to sit up but cried out with pain. His fingers weren’t a healthy pink but blue-white from being trapped in such an arctic cell.
“Relax.” I pushed his shoulder. “Let me untie you.” Moving from my knees to the edge of the bed, I pulled at the twine around his wrists. Tears sprang to my eyes as dried blood and scabs reopened. Fresh crimson seeped, making the knot too slippery to undo.
“Goddammit,” I hissed.
“Here, try this.” A box-cutter appeared in front of my nose. I jumped. In the rush of seeing my brother, I’d forgotten about Jasmine.
“Who the hell are you?” V snapped, his eyes drinking in Jaz.
I accepted the knife. “Thank you.” My own dirk rested down my waistband, cursing me for not using it.
Jasmine glanced at my black and blue twin. Her eyes remained cool and standoffish, but her voice was warm enough. “You’ll find out soon.” Rolling backward, she graciously gave me some privacy as I slit the rope around V’s wrists and freed him.
The instant he could move, he hitched himself up and threw his arms around me. His muscular bulk wasn’t warm like normal—the ice from the room leeched everything from him, making it seem like I hugged marble.
He clutched me harder. “Fuck, Threads. What the hell is going on?”
I fell into him.
Vaughn was alive.
Jethro was alive.
Even Kes was alive.
A trifecta of happiness, yet all I wanted to do was burst into tears.
“It’s a long story.” I breathed in his familiar aftershave.
His body shuddered, his chin pressing on the top of my head. He didn’t let me go; if anything, he hugged me tighter. “God, I thought they’d killed you, too.” He shook his head. “Those gunshots. That fucking maniac. What the hell?”
I untangled myself. “Like I said, long story.”
Anger curled off him. “Where are the fucking cops in all of this! They came to get you. They brought you home. Yet, you touted that bullshit for that magazine and ruined everything. You cried wolf, Threads, and now we’re really fucked—”
“Stop it, alright? I know I’ve done a few things that don’t make sense. I know I made our family a laughingstock by denying everything you said and the police want nothing to do with us, but none of that matters.” Giving him a watery smile, I rubbed my eyes, doing my best to stay calm. “The main thing is you’re still alive. I’m still alive, and we’re going to fight back.”
His jaw worked. “Damn fucking right we’re going to fight back. I want every single Hawk dead.”
“Not every Hawk deserves to die.” Jasmine’s voice carried on a puff of frozen breath.
I turned to face her, sharing a kindred smile. “Only the rotten ones.”
He’s alive.
He’s alive.
Both our brothers are still in this world.
Vaughn growled. “They’re all rotten. Every last one of them.”
Jasmine scowled.
We didn’t have time to fight.
“We’ll talk about that later. For now, tell me if you’re alright. No broken bones or anything?”
V sighed, hugging me again. His strength hinted that apart from a few bruises, he wasn’t too damaged. “I’m stronger than I look, little sister.” He couldn’t stop touching me—tucking my hair behind my ears, tracing my cheeks and arms. It was tender, but it wasn’t because of love or the need to connect.
Ever since our mum became Hawk property, Vaughn had always patched me up. He’d find me sprawled at the bottom of the stairs from tripping with vertigo and plaster the scrapes on my hands. He’d somehow be there first if I fell and cut myself—always armed with bandages and painkillers for his delinquent sister.
He was so used to me hurting myself, he had a system. A process.
Words could lie about a fall—brush it off as if it were nothing. But touch couldn’t hide the truth. Touch could feel the heat of a new bruise or the bump of a broken bone.
Even hurt himself, he was still trying to fix and protect me.
I pushed him away. “I’m okay, V. Honest.”
“We need to get you out of here.” He swung his legs off the bed. “Now. Tonight.”
“You’re not going anywhere.”
Both our heads whipped up to face Jasmine. She’d rolled closer, sitting with her hands in her lap. I didn’t trust for a second she was as meek as she seemed. She probably had hundreds of weapons hidden in her blanket.
“I’ve given you time to say hello. I’ve given you time that I didn’t have to give. But now you have to come with me.”
Vaughn stiffened. “I don’t have to do anything.” Grabbing my hand, he squeezed. “I’m taking my sister, and we’re leaving.”
“No, you aren’t.” Jasmine’s face darkened. “You’ll do what I say.”
I froze. Once again, my loyalties split. I used to belong to Vaughn entirely. He was blood. He was the exact replica of me in every way. But my heart had replaced him with my chosen one.
The one I thought was dead.
We would never be as close because we would never need each other as much as we once had.
It was both sad and freeing at the same time.
“She’s right, V. We can’t leave. Not yet.”
Vaughn’s eyes popped wide. “What the fuck does that mean?” Raising a finger, he pointed at Jasmine. “Wait a minute…who are you?” His voice slipped into a hiss. “Are you one of them? Because if you are, so fucking help me I’ll wring your neck—girl or not.”
Jasmine didn’t back down. She didn’t even flinch. “If you’re asking if I’m a Hawk, the answer is yes. If you’re asking if I love my brothers as much as you love your sister, then the answer is yes. And if you’re asking if I’m on your side, the answer isn’t so simple.”
Vaughn let me go, pushing off the bed to tower over her. He stumbled a little, but it didn’t stop him from sucking in a breath and whipping the room with temper. “If what you say is true, then you know what I feel and I’ll do anything to protect my twin. I won’t put your needs before hers. Ever.”
Jasmine gritted her teeth. Her eyes flashed with frustration for Jethro and Kes. The longer we ar
gued, the less time we had.
They need us. Now. Before it’s too late.
“Vaughn, listen to me—”
“No, Nila, you listen to me. I don’t know how she brainwashed you, but it’s over. They’re all noxious; therefore, they’ll all die.” He took a step closer to Jaz. “And if you don’t move out of my fucking way, you’ll be the first to go.”
Her eyes pinned him in place; her elegant throat poised with defiance. “I’ll tell you something you don’t know, Mr. Weaver. And then we’ll see if you’ll do what you’re told.”
V snorted but Jaz ignored him.
“Your sister has survived my family for almost six months. She’s the one who stood up to us. She’s the one who helped my brother all because she believed in him. She had the power to destroy him, but she didn’t. And if anyone deserves to kill those who deserve to die, it’s her.” She swallowed hard, forcing herself to continue. “Seeing you together is hard. You both look so similar. Twins in every sense. My brothers and I might not be the same age, but we share something in common. We share a desire for freedom. And I won’t let you take that away from us.”
Her eyes fell on me. “Have you told him, Nila? Have you told him who Jethro is to you? Or did you continue to let him slander his name in social media when you left us?”
I flinched.
She’s right.
While trapped at Hawksridge, I lived in truth far more than I ever did in London. I hadn’t had the guts to look my father or twin in their eyes and tell them that I was in love with a Hawk. That I belonged to him and him to me. That I was a traitor to my family name.
“What is she talking about, Threads?” Anger glazed V’s eyes along with a faint hint of fear. “Tell me.”
“V, I—”
How could I tell him that I loved Jethro as much as I loved him? How could I tell him that it was no longer simple between us?
“She took him from me, Vaughn,” Jaz said quietly. “She fell in love with my brother, and overnight, I became second in his life.” She gave me a twisted smile—half-accepting, half-unwilling. “He doesn’t belong to me anymore, just like she doesn’t belong to you.”
Vaughn shifted, running a hand through his dark hair. The beard he’d sported in London had been shorn, but a few day’s growth shadowed his jaw. “I don’t—I don’t understand.”
“One day, you’ll end up belonging to someone you love. But for now, you belong to me. I’m the one who’s come to rescue you. I’m the one who holds your life in my hands. And I’m the one who says you’ll do what I ask.”
Third Debt Page 9
