“You have no choice, Arch. I can’t explain it, but you, me, no one can stop this. My only regret is meeting you.”
My father huffed, whirling around in the drawing room of our eight bedroom manor. “Your only regret? What about V and Nila? What should I tell them? What should I say when they ask why their mother abandoned them?”
My mother, with her glossy ebony hair and dusky skin, stood tall and fearless, but from my hidden spot by the stairs I knew the truth. She wasn’t fearless—far from it. She was petrified. “You tell them I loved them but I should never have given them life. Especially Nila. Hide her, Arch. Don’t let them know. Change your name. Run. Don’t let the debt get her, too.”
The memory had ended abruptly thanks to Vaughn throwing a soccer ball at my head and shattering the final moments my parents had together. That had been the last time I ever saw her.
I rubbed my palm against my chest, cursing the tightness around my heart. Confusion weighed heavily, equally as pressing as despair.
Jethro smiled. “I’m glad you’re being more reasonable. That is one question I will answer. The consequences of not coming with me are Vaughn and Archibald Weaver, amongst other things.”
My whole world flipped upside down—and this time it wasn’t vertigo.
“Your life for theirs.” He shrugged. “Simple really. But don’t worry about the details. There’s the fine print and endless history lessons to explain.”
My heart stopped. My life for theirs?He has to be joking. I didn’t know if I should be screaming in terror or laughing with amazement. This couldn’t be real. It had to be a farce.
“You can’t be serious. You expect me to believe you?”
Jethro lost his ice, sliding straight into arctic winter. “You think Icareif you don’t believe me? Do you think all of this is bullshit and you can somehow argue with me?”
My heart jack-knifed. He was so sure. So resolute. No hint of worry that his scam might be revealed.
It isn’t a joke.
Jethro lowered his voice. “I’ll let you in on another secret about me. I never do things by half. I never take chances. And I never hunt alone.” Leaning closer, he finished, “Ever since I set eyes on you, your family has been watched. They’re being judged. And if you so much as sneeze wrong, that judgement will turn into something a lot more invasive. Do you understand?”
I couldn’t reply. All I could picture was Vaughn and my father being exterminated like vermin.
“Say another word and I’ll end them, Ms. Weaver.” With a glacial glare, Jethro grabbed the handle bars and swung his leg over the black powder-coated machine. Every inch was black. No chrome or colour anywhere.
Shit, what do I do?I had to run.Run!
But I couldn’t. Not now he’d threatened my family. Not now my brain had unlocked a memory adding weight to Jethro’s lunatic suggestions. Not now Ibelieved.
A debt.
I didn’t know what it was. It could’ve been code for something I didn’t understand or literal and requiring payback. But one thing I knew, I couldn’t risk not obeying.
I loved my family. I adored my brother. I wouldn’t chance their lives.
I jumped as the ignition growled to life, tearing through the silence, and somehow granting me strength in its ferocity. Kicking the stand away, Jethro took the weight of the bike.
He didn’t wear a helmet or offer me one. I expected him to turn around and deliver more information or demands, but all he did was reach behind, steal my arm, and place it around his hips. The moment my hand rested on him, he let me go, unknowingly giving me a safeharbour but with an anchor I already despised.
I looked longingly at the building where my brother and father mingled with fashionistas and the only world I knew. I silently begged them to come running out and laugh at my stunned, fear-filled face yelling ‘we fooled you.’
But nothing. The doors remained closed. Answers hidden. Future unknown.
I’m alone.
I’m being stolen for a debt only I can repay. A debt I know nothing about.
I was idiotic to wish for more than what I had.
Now, I had nothing.
With a twist of his wrist, Jethro fed gas to his mechanical beast and we shot forward into darkness.