Chapter 102 Jethro
Jethro
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A NEW MORNING, yet I felt older than I’d ever been.
Every part of me ached.
I’d left Nila at the cemetery—I’d had no choice.
But when she didn’t return after dusk, I went back for her.
She’d sat beneath the crescent moon, arms wrapped tight around her ribcage as if to prevent whatever meagre body heat she had from escaping. Her white skin glowed in the darkness, etched in shadow, making her seem part wraith, part woman.
I’d waited in the blackness, obscured by trees. Waited for her to either fall asleep or fret herself into unconsciousness. I wanted to wrap her in warmth and take her back to her chambers where she could find some resemblance of living...with me.
I wanted to kiss her frigid lips and run my fingers down her icy arms. I wanted to be warm for her and forget all notions of being a glacier.
But powerful waves of hatred and disgust rolled from her delicate form, lapping through the trees and around my ankles. As much as I wanted to go to her, I couldn’t.
For the same reason I needed to see Jasmine so often.
For the same curse I’d lived with my whole life.
So, I’d waited.
I’d sacrificed myself by feeling her pain.
I’d shared the cold with her.
I’d hoped she sensed my presence and it offered a shred of comfort.
And when she’d finally retreated to the Hall, I’d followed discretely. Shadowing her every step, determined she wouldn’t see me.
It wasn’t until she’d stumbled from her bathroom in a cloud of steam and wearing a towel that I’d left the security hub and the constantly recording cameras and returned to my own quarters.
As I lay staring at my ceiling, thinking how disastrous my life had become ever since I texted her over two months ago, I felt another stirring inside my broken heart.
One that gave me a small blaze of hope that there might be some way to salvage this nightmare.
For the first time in my life, I wanted to talk to someone. Fully confess. And not just to my sister.
I wanted to unload and spill everything to my sworn enemy. To the woman I wanted but could never have.
If I stepped off that ledge and took a leap of faith, I had no doubt I would end up dead when I fell. But I’d left it too long to fix myself and no longer had control over my impulses.
I’d regret it.
Shit, I already did.
But it couldn’t stop me.
With a rabbiting heart, I’d messaged her the first shred of truth.
I began the journey that would pulverize me.
* * * * *
Cut looked up from his newspaper, his eyes narrowing. “Where were you yesterday?”
Torturing Nila. Torturing myself.
“Nowhere. Not important.” I strode toward the dining table, glaring at Daniel. He was the only other man indulging in breakfast. Everyone else must’ve eaten and split.
Daniel smirked, smearing butter onto a fresh croissant. Keeping eye contact, he stuffed it into his mouth.
The idea of eating with my two least favourite people turned my hunger into repulsion. Grabbing the back of a chair, I made no move to pull it out. “Where’s Kes?”
Cut pursed his lips, folding the newspaper sedately beside him. “How would I know?”
I cocked my head in acknowledgement. Fine. If he wanted to play hard-arse, I could play. Squeezing the back of the chair, I nodded and made my way back to the exit. I had something to discuss with Kes, and wasn’t in the mood to deal with my father and his mind manipulation.
Reaching the door, my fingers wrapped around the doorknob, but before I could escape, Cut said, “We haven’t finished. Come in. Sit. Eat.”
I turned, finding it no hardship to find the snow that protected me. I vibrated with icicles, just waiting to use the glittering tips as weapons. “We have finished. I have things to do.”
Daniel snickered. “That’s what you think.”
“Shut up,” I snapped. “Eat your damn food and mind your own fucking business.”
Cut raised an eyebrow, pushing back his chair to stand.
Moving to the buffet table where Nila had collected the trays to serve the Black Diamond brothers, he used a pair of tongs to place a raspberry Danish and some fresh grapes onto his plate.
“I’m not convinced you’re coping with the pressure of what is required of you, Jethro. ”
I swallowed, fisting my hands. “I’m coping just fine.”
“Then why have you been making almost daily visits to see Jaz?”
“Oh, someone’s been caught sneaking,” Daniel chuckled.
I threw him a death stare before focusing the rage on my father. “Jasmine is our flesh and blood. I’m permitted to see family. Or is that against the rules now, too?”
If he took Jaz away from me, I would go fucking rogue.
Cut clucked his tongue, turning to face me.
“Your temper and wisecracks have been steadily getting worse for weeks.” Tilting his head, he added, “In fact, it’s become so bad no amount of bullshit from you can convince me that you’re coping.
You’re losing control, Jet. Losing it all thanks to that little Weaver Whore. ”
My heart thundered. Words flew and collided in my head.
She’s not a fucking whore.
Don’t fucking talk about her like that.
Stay the fuck away from her.
But I swallowed every syllable and forced myself to stay stoic.
When I didn’t respond, Cut glowered and made his way back to the table. Sitting down, he waved at a chair. “Join us.”
“No. Whatever you have to say, say it. I have somewhere to be.”
Someone to see.
“I do not like this side of you, Jet. I thought we’d turned a corner with you a few years ago. Don’t make me regret what I promised you.”
My heart switched from anger to anxiety. I hated that he had such power, such sway over me. “I’ve done everything you asked.”
Cut popped a grape into his mouth. “Ah, see, that’s where you’re wrong. I know more than you think, and you haven’t been following the rules.”
Shit.
Sweat dotted my brow at the thought of him seeing me come undone while thrusting into the woman I was meant to treat like filth. “Name one thing.”
My father’s eyes twinkled.
Shit, I shouldn’t have said that.
Cut took a bite of his pastry, never taking his gaze off me.
“You’re in fucking trouble,” Dan sneered.
My head tore up, locking eyes with my psychotic little brother. I didn’t think it was possible to hate someone as much as I hated him. I didn’t want to be anywhere near him. He wasn’t good for me. Healthy for me.
Snapping between clenched teeth, I said, “Watch your tongue, Buzzard.”
Daniel growled, “Don’t use that nickname, Kite.”
“Shut it,” I hissed, glaring behind me just in case Nila had arrived for breakfast. I’d given her the truth in my last message, but I wanted her to come to me and ask.
I wanted to stare into her eyes as she waged between anger at being tricked and acknowledgement that in some way, she’d known all along.
“Enough. Both of you,” Cut ordered, pointing a spoon at us. “Stop being a twat, Dan, and, Jet, he’s right. You’re in trouble.”
I trembled with pent-up aggression. The pressure of competition and testosterone in the room seemed to drip down the damn walls. “Why, exactly?”
My father relaxed into the chair, believing he was in complete control.
And he was. As much as I hated it.
“What didn’t you do after the First Debt was paid?”
My mind charged with all sorts of things. There were so many instructions I hadn’t kept. I struggled to recall one that he’d caught me out on. Did he know that I hadn’t dropped her core temperature before the whipping? Did he know I’d fucked her and in turn fucked myself?
Keeping my face blank and cold—just like I’d been taught—I snarled, “I tended to her injuries, as per the custom, and left her to heal.”
Cut sighed. The weight of his disappointment and annoyance crushed me. “You didn’t do the tally, though, did you?”
My heart clenched. “Fuck.”
He nodded. “Fuck, indeed.”
How did I forget that part?
My body filled with thick resentment. “I’ll fix it.”
“Damn right, you’ll fix it.” Cut lost his smooth edge, showing his jagged temper beneath. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, Jethro, but I’m not fucking happy. Get it done. Today. Now, in fact.” Grabbing his napkin, he wiped his fingers. “Go grab her and meet us in the solar.”
My soul twisted, feeding off his blackness, his darkness. Every moment I spent in his presence, I slipped back into the man he wanted me to be. I became infected with whatever madness lurked within my family tree.
“I’ll get it done. I don’t need an audience.”
They could trust me.
All my life, I’d lived with these men, and all my life, I’d drank their poison. I was one of them. It didn’t matter that I’d had a weak moment yesterday. This was who I was.
I’m a Hawk.
Before Nila, my family was all the company I had—their morals all I’d been taught.
And up until two months ago, I believed Cut loved me—cared for me—that was why he gave me a system to follow.
Another thing Nila and I had in common: we blindly followed our elders, naively believing they had the answers to our problems.
No matter who Cut groomed me to be, he failed. I might want to obey. I might crave to be happy in the boundaries he’d set, but I never lived up to his expectations.
Cut broke into my thoughts. “You’re right, you will get it done. And you’ll have witnesses to ensure it happens correctly.” His eyes bored into mine. “Unless you’d rather hand Nila over to Kes and spend the month working on your disposition?”
My teeth clenched at the thought. “No. I’m fine.”
The spike of possession and desire overrode my frosty heart, showing me once again how thin the ice was that I skated upon. It was no longer solid and strong. The surface was breakable, just waiting for me to step into its trap and drown me.
I’d suspected for years that there might’ve been another way to ‘fix’ me. But whenever I attempted to revert to my true nature, Cut would notice and stop me.
I knew what it did to me. I knew how to survive with the sessions, but ever since Nila had arrived, it hadn’t been enough.
Nothing was enough anymore.