So, I focused on the spot on top of the hill—on a black speck spotlighted by the waning sun.
No, not a speck.
A woman.
Dark hair, feminine grace.
Jasmine.
Seeing her stole my tension. I relaxed. My screaming muscles stopped twitching, melting into the mud upon which I lay.
I didn’t need to fight anymore.
Jasmine was regal with honour and resplendent with pride—exactly as expected from any Hawk descendant.
I had the strange urge to wave—to have her grant me mercy.
How was it possible someone could wield so much power even while she was as broken as me?
I’d drowned and come back to life.
I’d been fixed.
However, Jasmine never would.
My eyes drifted from her beautiful face to her legs.
I sighed in sympathy for such a plight.
Wheels replaced legs. Footholds instead of shoes.
Jasmine Hawk was paralysed.
Wheelchair bound and reclusive.
It all suddenly made a lot more sense. About Jethro. His father. His sister.
And then it all became too much.
I drifted off into fluffy clouds.
I said goodbye for the second time.
Chapter Twenty-One
Jethro
––––––––
I CARRIED HER unconscious form back to hell.
I turned my back on my father, grandmother, and siblings.
I let them whisper about my downfall and plot my death.
I did all of those things because the moment I’d felt Nila give up, nothing else fucking mattered.
Money, Hawksridge, diamonds—none of it.
