Second Debt (Indebted 3)

I hated that he came across so cordial—almost grandfatherly.

Jethro muttered, “She’ll be fine with Wings and me.”

My eyes widened. “You’re travelling with the horse?”

Jethro nodded. “Wings hates being confined. It kills him to be in the dark with no escape.”

My heart flipped. How could he say something so caring about an animal, yet be so strange about everything else?

Cut laughed—it held an edge of warning. “I expected you to grow out of that stupid notion, Jet.”

Jethro’s hands fisted. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Cut glared daggers at his oldest son. I stood poised to jump out of the way, just waiting for a fight to break out or some accusation thrown that might hint at whom Jethro truly was. It seemed his entire family knew and constantly used his weakness, condition—whatever he had—as a warning and an aid to heel.

Breaking the tense silence, I said, “I’d rather travel with the horses.”

Cut stopped trying to kill his oldest by death stare and turned his blazing eyes on me.

I rushed, “Plus, I won’t have to wear a blindfold as the truck doesn’t have windows.”

The thought of being cooped up in a dark space while weaving and swaying in traffic turned my stomach. The symptoms would be eerily similar to vertigo. But I would rather go with Jethro over Cut any day.

Cut nodded slowly. “Fine. We’ll see you at the match.”

Daniel shifted closer. “That’s a pity.” His unhinged soul glimmered in his eyes. His dark hair didn’t have any of the silver tinsel that Jethro and Kes had, but all three of the Hawk boys had inherited their colouring from their father. Daniel’s hair had thinned, whereas I knew from experience that Jethro’s was thick and entirely too enticing.

I know because his head has been between my legs, licking me while I dug my fingers—

Don’t think about that.

Once again, I had to shove away the wetness Jethro had conjured and shut down my bodily cravings.

Daniel smirked. His pristine suit, diamond pin just like Jethro’s, and polished boots made him seem the perfect catch for any eager woman—until he opened his mouth, of course. “I rather enjoyed our car ride together last time.”

A chill flash-froze my system. He meant the car ride onto the estate the night I had arrived. Jethro had drugged me—bastard. And I could still feel Daniel’s probing nasty fingers on my core.

Jethro growled, “Enough.” Leaving his family, he grabbed my wrist and stomped toward the closest horse truck. “Time to go.”

I couldn’t stop goosebumps scattering over my arms at the horrible reminder of Daniel’s groping.

Silently, Jethro guided me to the side of the truck and opened a small door camouflaged by decals of his family crest. The entire transport was rich and gleaming with money.

As I stepped into the musky warmth of horse and hay, I said, “The night you stole me. Why did you drug me?”

Jethro froze, blotting out the light from the small door and instantly making the large vehicle claustrophobic. “I did it to make it easier.”

“On who? You?”

He slammed the door closed, leaving us in gloomy light. “On you. I made it so you wouldn’t fight and cause yourself harm.”

I crossed my arms, a horrible suspicion filling me. “Wrong. I think you did it for you. So you wouldn’t have to face my tears or put up with my panic.”

Jethro shoved me out of the way, moving down the gangway between the two stalls. I spun around, following him. Two horses’ rumps faced us with food bales secured within grazing distance and hay on the floor.

“Who exactly are you, Jethro Hawk?”

Jethro ran his hand along the horse’s ebony side. My stomach fluttered to witness the sudden softness in him and it turned my heart to mush to see the animal’s reaction to his master.

Its ears swivelled in welcome while its flank twitched for more. A gentle huffing sound came from velvet nostrils—a sigh of contentment.

“I’m the man who does what he needs to, but you already know that.” Giving me a backward glance, he didn’t stop until he passed the two horses and entered the small space at the front of the stalls. In the spacious compartment, there were two seats bolted to the floor facing the horses. Saddles, blankets, and bridles hung from hooks. Every wall and space had been utilised to house horsey paraphernalia.

Windows let natural light in from above, along with a skylight, but they were too high to see.

“Let it go, Ms. Weaver.” Sitting down, he pointed at the identical seat. “Sit down before you fall down. Can never be too careful with that damn vertigo of yours.”

I sneered at him. “Bet it makes you feel stronger knowing I have an ailment that can strike me down at any time.”

He sniffed. “You’re right. It does.” His eyes narrowed. “Now. Sit.”

The truck suddenly rumbled and coughed as the engine turned over. The horses behind me nickered. One stomped its metal hoof on the floor.

I turned around and sat quickly, just before the lumbering vehicle shot into gear.

Fumbling with my seatbelt—hoping it would be strong enough to keep me upright if I happened to suffer a bad spell—I yelped when a long grey nose nudged my leg.

Jethro chuckled. “For someone who says she’s in-tune with the law of right and wrong, you don’t seem to have experience around animals.”

He smiled as the black beast in front of him arched its neck, trying to get at his master.