She didn’t respond to my previous text.
She had to have known it was me.
I swallowed against more agony. I wished I could sense her from this far away—tune into her thoughts and find out if she was safe like Jasmine promised or needed my help before I was any use to her.
My muscles quivered as I fumbled with the phone’s menu, inputting her number and opening a new message. I didn’t want to be reckless, but I also couldn’t lie there another moment fearing for her safety.
The debts she’d lived through were nothing to what was ahead. I had to kill my father before that happened. Before he took her away from me. Nila hadn’t been told how many debts she had to pay and to be honest, I’d read paperwork where more were added and less were taken, depending on how bored or cruel my ancestors were.
The Fourth Debt was coming. But the Fifth Debt...
I shuddered.
That won’t happen. Iwouldnever let it happen.
Sighing, I forced happier thoughts and typed a message.
Unknown Number:Answer me. Tell me you’re okay. I’m okay. We’re both okay. I need to hear from you. I need to know you’re still mine.
I pressed send.
Chapter Eleven
Nila
I STOPPED COUNTING time by hours.
One day.
Two days.
Three days.
Four.
Nothing had meaning anymore.
I thought the Hawks couldn’t hurt me once I’d sunk to their level and played their games. I thought I’d be safe to plot my revenge and hold on until Jethro came for me.
I was such a stupid,stupidgirl.
Bonnie proved that over and over again. Breaking me into pieces, scattering my courage, burning my hatred until there was nothing left but dust. Dust and cinders and hopelessness.
Five days or was it six...
I no longer knew how long I’d existed in this hell.
It no longer mattered as they slowly broke my will, ruining my conviction that I could win. However, Jethro never left me. His voice lived in my ears, my heart, my soul. Forcing me to stay strong, even when I couldn’t see an end.
If it wasn’t for the passing of autumn into winter, I might’ve thought time stood still. The ticking of clocks was only punctured by pain. The passing of night and day only pierced by Bonnie’s whims and wishes.
I’m dying.
On my lowest moments, I thought I was dead. On my highest moments, I still fantasised about killing them. It was the only thing that got me through the hellish week they subjected me to.
My hate evolved into a living, breathing thing. There was nothing left but loathing.
What else was there to feel when I lived with monsters?
