Jethro #2
That—right there. That was the true difference between my brother and me. He caught those who needed to be caught, while I stood by and watched. The memory of Nila falling to the parking garage floor at the Milan airport showed me just how true that statement was.
I have no choice.
Empathy and softness weren’t permitted. They were the root of all evil for a person like me.
Taking a deep breath, Nila pushed Kes gently. “I’m fine. Thanks for your help.”
Kes nodded, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets. “You’re welcome. You should probably have that looked at.”
“It’s not a disease,” I jumped in. “Besides, she’s better than when I first collected her.”
Nila’s cheeks blazed with colour. She wobbled a little as another wave hit her. “Do you know why that is? I was thinking about it before actually.”
No one spoke, waiting for her to continue.
“I get them when I’m stressed. I probably suffered five or six a day when I was working so hard and presenting my new season to buyers and reporters. And yet, here...I only seem to suffer them around you.” Cocking her head, she placed her fists on her hips. “What does that tell you, Jethro?”
What did it tell me? Apart from the fact she was weak-minded and needed professional help for a counter imbalance? “That I stress you out.”
“Exactly.”
Another wave crippled her. Kes was the convenient arsehole who captured her elbow giving her an anchor. “There you go again. You okay?”
She nodded, rubbing her temples. “Sorry. Damn vertigo. Can’t control it.”
Kes smiled, his body curved into hers. “Don’t apologise. We all have flaws, and sometimes they’re not something we have the power to change.”
He’s talking about me again. Fuckwit.
Nila’s lips popped open, her eyes searching his. “You’re nothing like your phone messages.”
My muscles instantly locked.
Her voice was barely a whisper. I wouldn’t have caught it unless my ears weren’t already straining for every nuance in her tone.
She knows.
Kes cocked his head, his eyes blocking all clues and answers. Laughing self-consciously, he quickly pressed a kiss on her cheek and released her. “If that’s a good thing, I’ll take the credit.”
That’s it.
I was fucking done.
Stalking forward, I plucked Nila from the carpet and threw her over my shoulder. Kes’s mouth fell open. “Um...”
“Don’t say another word, brother.” I transmitted everything I couldn’t say with one glare. “Stay out of this. All of it.”
Nila squealed, hitting my back with tiny fists. “Put me down, you arsehole.”
“No chance,” I growled. “I’m not letting you go until I have you exactly where I want you.”
Preferably naked with my cock driving between your legs.
But because I was the perfect son, I would have to save that for another day.
There was a small matter of a debt. A debt that had to be repaid before the day turned into dusk—for no other reason but tradition. We’d run out of time.
Kes stared at me, his eyes waging with an apology and confrontation. If Nila wasn’t here, I had no doubt we’d either pummel each other or have the deepest, longest conversation of our lives. This one incident had brought everything we’d avoided to a head.
Kes and I were friends—more than I could say for the rest of the people inside this house—but despite our friendship, there was still a thick rivalry between us.
Not just because of primogeniture and the fact I would inherit everything, but because we’d both been hurt by the same incident in our pasts.
We just dealt with it differently.
He’d played a good game where Nila was concerned. A game I’d never been able to master—the art of wielding kindness. My kindness came with too many conditions and more pain than if I remained cruel. But Kes, he was...better than me.
I knew the real him. And despite my agony at him wanting Nila’s attention, he was a good guy.
Silently, he raised a finger, pointing it in my face. Nila couldn’t see him as he mouthed, “I know it’s not working. We need to find other methods.”
Shit, if he could see, Cut wouldn’t be too far behind.
“Dammit, Jethro, put me down.” Nila hammered on my lower back.
Ignoring her, I shifted her higher over my shoulder and nodded once.
Then I put every worry and thought in the vault deep inside me and lashed the chains tight. I had work to do.
Not giving Kes the satisfaction of seeing me ruffled, I spun around and left without a word with my prize slung over my shoulder.
“Let me go!” Nila continued to pummel my back with every step.
“I won’t put you down until we get there. I’ve wasted three hours of my life wondering where you were. I’m not going to release you just so you can escape again.”
“We’ve already solved the ‘what if I ran game.’ I know you’d hunt me down. I wouldn’t waste the energy trying to escape.”
I grunted. “At least you’ve learned one thing that’s valuable.”
“I’ve learned a lot more than that,” she muttered quietly.
Yes, like who Kite007 is.
My arm squeezed tighter around her. Bloody brother. The minute I had time, I would confront him with all the shit he’d caused.
Swallowing hard, I forced myself to slip back into the ice and embrace everything that I ought to be.
I had a debt to extract.
This was what was expected of me.
And I meant to do it fucking well.
It didn’t take long to arrive in the room where the First Debt would take place.
Tradition dictated where each one was to be carried out. And this one was the nicest location of them all.
As the debts progressed, witnesses would be called, but as this was the first, it was just me and Nila. Blessed silence and no critical eyes on my deliverance. Only the hidden video camera would document everything and go on file.
Entering the solarium, I locked the large glass doors and pocketed the key before gripping Nila’s waist and placing her on the ground. She immediately stepped backward, her chest heaving with fear.
If she passed out again, my brother wasn’t there to catch her. She’d fall, and I’d use her unconsciousness to place her exactly where she was needed.
“Where have you brought me?” She glanced around the space, taking in the palm trees, exotic ferns, orchids, and soaring three-story glass roof. The room was big, shaped like an octagon, made entirely from glass. It was hot, humid, and stuffy.
Perfect for being naked and encouraging skin to flush. To react to something painful and bloom.
“Be grateful it’s not the dungeon or the ballroom—both of those will be used, and both will be a far sight worse than this.”
Nila swallowed, the column of muscle of her throat contracting with nervousness. “You really are insane.”
I stepped forward, secretly pleased when she reeled backward. After spending time in my brother’s company, she had to remember who she truly liked. As much as she’d vehemently deny it, she enjoyed sparring with me.
And fuck, I enjoyed it, too.
“Mental health, Ms. Weaver. Need I remind you I’m in perfect capacity?”
Her head swivelled to a large post in the centre of the room.
It was used mainly for fern seedlings and vines, before being replanted once their root system was strong enough.
I wasn’t a gardener, but my grandmother often brought me and my sister in here to teach us about decorum and what was expected of us.
She’d prattle on, all while tending to her beloved greenery.
Nila drifted forward, noticing what was hidden amongst the cleaned post and silk flowers that were there purely for morbid decoration.
Cuffs were chained to the top of the post, dangling down the sides. There was a winch and pulley so as to tighten the length of chain. It was simple, entirely in keeping with how they would’ve used a whipping post six-hundred-years ago.
She shook her head, swivelling to face me. “Whatever you’re about to do, stop.”
“Stop?” As if I have a choice. Smile for the cameras. We’re both on show.
“Yes. Just—find that morality I know is inside you. Show some compassion, for God’s sake.” She staggered to the side, another small vertigo spell.
I’d hated her weakness before, but now it could be used as an aid. Whenever she stumbled or fell, it meant I was getting to her. It meant I’d made my way beneath her skin and stressed her just enough for her mind to try and flee.
It was a symbol of power over her.
I liked it more than I should.
“Compassion isn’t in my repertoire, Ms. Weaver. I have no remorse, no pity. The unnecessary emotion of affinity for victims is the worst kind of betrayal.” My father’s words came out smoothly, stroking my raw nerves, granting a strange kind of peace.
“You can sprout bullshit all you want, but no matter your lies, you feel, Jethro. You felt something for me in the forest. You felt something for me when your brother held me in his arms. And if you can’t see that, then I feel sorry for you.”
I prowled forward, chasing her slowly around the post like a hawk chases a sparrow.
“You’re mistaken. I’ve told you on numerous occasions—please me, and you’ll be rewarded.
You pleased me by making me come, and you pleased me by showing how affected and scared of me you truly are by seeking comfort from my brother. Both will be rewarded.”
I hoped to God she didn’t hear my lies.
She stopped moving, holding her ground. “Fine. Have it your way. Your father repeated what you told me about the varying degree of each debt. This whole thing is completely ludicrous, but I’m done playing your game.”
I cocked my head. “This isn’t a game.”
She sneered. “It’s the worst game of all, don’t kid yourself.” Spreading her stance and opening her arms wide, she murmured, “Do your worst, Jethro Hawk. I’m ready to pay your First Debt.”