Fourth Debt (Indebted 5)

“He would never have been able to do it.” Jasmine rolled forward. “He fell for her before she fell for him. I knew even when he didn’t.”

She locked her brakes, staring up at V. “If you won’t help me because I’m telling you to, help me because I’m asking. Don’t let him die. Don’t destroy your sister or condemn my brother when he’s the only one who can stop all of this for good.”

For the longest moment, we all held our breaths, waiting for V to accept defeat and agree to help. But then his shoulders stiffened, and he shook his head. “I don’t believe either of you. I think you’re both fucked in the head, and we need to get the hell out of this shithole.”

Snatching my wrist, he jerked me toward the door.

For someone who’d been in a fight and locked in a chiller, he moved quickly.

“V! Let me go.” I stumbled after him, vertigo teasing with the outskirts of my vision.

“Vaughn, listen to her.” Jaz spun around, her knuckles white on her wheels. “You can’t leave.”

V ignored her and reached for the door. “Oh, really? Funny, this is me leaving.”

I breathed hard. “Vaughn, I’m not going anywhere with you. If you won’t help us, fine. But I’m not going to leave him—”

“Yes, you are. Because I’m doing something he never did.” His nose almost brushed mine as he yanked me close. “Saving your arse.”

“You don’t understand!”

“No, Threads. You don’t understand. They’ve kept you here, treating you fucking awful for months. They’ve twisted your thoughts and made you suffer that Stockholm shit. Well, it’s over. We’re going home.”

His hand landed on the doorknob, wrenching it side to side.

Locked.

He whirled on Jaz, carting me back like a prisoner. Shoving his hand beneath her nose, he growled, “Key. Now.”

Her chin rose. “No. Not until you agree to help me.”

“Never. Give me the key.” He bent down, crazed with rage. “I won’t ask again.”

“And I won’t ask for your help again. I’ll just make you.”

Vaughn raised his hand.

“Wait!” I jumped forward, barricading him from slapping her. “Don’t!”

V’s mouth popped wide. “You’re seriously defending her, Threads? After every-fucking-thing her family has done to you?”

I couldn’t believe it, either. If V had been there after the meeting with the lawyers, I would’ve willingly given him a gun and loaded the bullet myself. But that was before I started listening—truly listening. Jaz was on our side.

He’s alive.

But for how much longer?

Waving my arms, I whisper-shouted, “Enough! Yes, I’m defending her. Yes, I’m in love with Jethro. And no, I won’t go anywhere with you until he’s safe.” Trembling, I looked over my shoulder at Jasmine.

She sat unruffled, her hand curled around a black gun that’d appeared from under her blanket.

I knew it! I knew she’d have an arsenal hidden in there.

Our eyes met.

I could make a big deal out of the weapon or I could focus on the task at hand.

Jethro and Kes…

Ignoring the pistol, I asked, “What’s your plan? Why do you need my brother to help?”

“Mr. Weaver here is going to carry me where I need to go and do everything I tell him.”

“Like fuck I am.” Vaughn paced in front of us.

“V!” I scowled. “Just…listen, okay?”

A small glisten of emotion showed before Jaz added, “I can’t do this on my own and, Nila, you have to go back to your room.”

I shook my head. “I’ll come with you. I don’t want to go back—”

“It’s not a matter of what you want. It’s a matter of necessity. We’ll be gone a while. I need you to lie for me if it comes to that.”

“Lie for you?”

“You need to take my chair and tell them that I spent the night with you.” She eyed up V as he paced like a feral animal. “While he’ll be my legs and strength, you’ll be my safeguard. I need you to come up with any tale you need to in order to keep the truth about my brothers’ lives a secret. I don’t care what you say. Just keep it hidden.”

My mind swam. I had no idea how I would achieve that if Daniel or Cut came knocking.

“And why do you need me, exactly?” Vaughn asked, his voice laced with animosity. “Why should I put my life on the line?”

Jaz took in his bruised face and blood-stained t-shirt. “Do you want children, Mr. Weaver?”

V’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. “What? What the fuck does that—”

“Answer the question. Yes or no.”

My heart raced, waiting for him to reply. I’d grown up with V, but we’d never talked about what we wanted in the future. Never discussed the idea of raising our own families—too caught up in designing and promoting and working tirelessly for a company that was more parent than we’d ever needed.

V breathed out heavily. “I don’t know…before, I might’ve entertained the idea, but now never. Not after what they did to Nila.” His eyes fell on me. “Or our mum.”

“Exactly. My family has cast a shadow over yours for far too long. You should have the right to have children if you want, knowing they are safe to grow old.” She inched closer, her voice filling with passion and truth. “I need your help to make that a reality.”