Get up, Jethro. Please, get up.
Cut ran his gun over my jaw. “Say hello to my new heir, Nila.”
No, he can’t mean...
Daniel jiggled me in his arms, never letting me go. He cupped my breasts with harsh fingers. “Be polite, whore. Say hello.”
I clamped my lips together.
I kept staring at Jethro, begging for this to be some terrible mistake.
“Along with inheriting my power, my fortune, and my title, Daniel has acquired the Debt Inheritance’s responsibility.” Cut placed himself in front of me, blocking Jethro’s bleeding body.
Every word made me crave a bullet. I wanted to end it. I wanted to chase Jethro to the underworld and leave everything behind.
There’s nothing left. Not anymore.
Bonnie shuffled forward, her cane sinking into the carpet. “We’ve all agreed to nominate a new master. If Daniel carries out the remainder of the tasks, he will take over my son’s position before his thirtieth.”
She came closer, bringing the stench of death with her. Her hazel eyes flashed, red lips spread in a victory grin. “When you left two months ago, Iknew something special would have to be done upon your return. No one makes a mockery of my house like your family has done without paying a serious price. Consider this the beginning of a bigger debt. You owe us for the inconvenience your brother caused.”
Cut laughed, pressing cold fingers beneath my chin, angling my face to his. “Understand, Ms. Weaver, Daniel will carry out the Final Debt. And if he does, as I trust he will, everything goes to him. And unlike my previous sons, he willnotdisappoint me.” Placing another dry kiss on my lips, he murmured, “Congratulations Ms. Weaver. You now belong to Daniel ‘Buzzard’ Hawk...
...
And he’s going to make your life a living fucking hell.”
––––––––
***Information on HSP & VEP taken from http://healing.about.com/od/empathic/a/HSP_hallowes.htm.***
***Jethro’s comment about his condition was taken from:
Pearl S. Buck, (1892-1973), recipient of the Pulitzer Prize in 1932 and of the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1938, said the following about Highly Sensitive People:
"The truly creative mind in any field is no more than this:
A human creature born abnormally, inhumanly sensitive.
To him... a touch is a blow,
a sound is a noise,
a misfortune is a tragedy,
a joy is an ecstasy,
a friend is a lover,
a lover is a god,
and failure is death.
