The memory had ended abruptly thanks to Vaughn throwing a soccer ball at my head and shattering the final moments my parents had together. That had been the last time I ever saw her.
I rubbed my palm against my chest, cursing the tightness around my heart. Confusion weighed heavily, equally as pressing as despair.
Jethro smiled. “I’m glad you’re being more reasonable. That is one question I will answer. The consequences of not coming with me are Vaughn and Archibald Weaver, amongst other things.”
My whole world flipped upside down—and this time it wasn’t vertigo.
“Your life for theirs.” He shrugged. “Simple really. But don’t worry about the details. There’s the fine print and endless history lessons to explain.”
My heart stopped. My life for theirs? He has to be joking. I didn’t know if I should be screaming in terror or laughing with amazement. This couldn’t be real. It had to be a farce. A horrible, cruel joke of my dad’s to ensure I never wanted to date again. Please let it be a joke.
“You can’t be serious.” I might’ve been hidden from the world of men, but I wasn’t completely clueless. “You expect me to believe you?”
Jethro lost his ice, sliding straight into artic winter. “You think I care if you don’t believe me? Do you think all of this is bullshit and you can somehow argue with me?”
My heart jack-knifed. He was so sure. So resolute. No hint of worry that his scam might be revealed. It isn’t a joke.
Jethro lowered his voice to a hiss. “I’ll let you in on another secret about me. I never do things by half. I never take chances. I never hunt alone.” Leaning closer, he finished, “Ever since I set eyes on you, eyes have been set on your brother and father. They’re being watched. And if you so much as sneeze wrong, those eyes will turn into something a lot more invasive. Do you understand?”
I couldn’t reply. All I could picture was Vaughn and my father being exterminated like vermin and never see it coming.
“Say another word and I’ll end them, Ms. Weaver.” With a glacial glare, Jethro grabbed the handle bars and swung his leg over the black powder-coated machine. Every inch was black. No chrome or colour anywhere.
Shit, what do I do? I had to run. Run!
But I couldn’t. Not now he’d threatened my family. Not now my brain had unlocked a memory adding weight to Jethro’s lunatic suggestions. Not now I believed.
A debt.
I didn’t know what it was. It could’ve been code for something I didn’t understand or literal and requiring payback. But one thing I knew, I couldn’t risk not obeying.
I loved my family. I adored my brother. I wouldn’t chance their lives. Not after this so-called debt broke up my parents’ marriage and happiness.
I jumped as the ignition growled to life, tearing through the silence, and somehow granting me strength in its ferocity. Kicking the stand away, Jethro took the weight of the bike.
He didn’t wear a helmet or offer me one. I expected him to turn around and deliver more information or demands, but all he did was reach behind, steal my arm, and place it around his hips. The moment my hand rested on him, he let me go, unknowingly giving me a safe harbour but with an anchor I already despised.
I looked longingly at the building where my brother and father mingled with fashionistas and the only world I knew. I silently begged them to come running out and laugh at my stunned, fear-filled face yelling ‘we fooled you.’
But nothing. The doors remained closed. Answers hidden. Future unknown.
I’m alone.
I’m being stolen for a debt only I can repay. A debt I know nothing about.
I was idiotic to wish for more than what I had.
Now, I had nothing.
With a twist of his wrist, Jethro fed gas to his mechanical beast and we shot forward into darkness.
The Milan airport welcomed me back.
It felt like an eternity since I flew in, though in reality it’d only been two days. My skin was icy, and despite my repellent dislike for Jethro, I hadn’t been able to stop huddling against him while he broke speed limits and took corners at hyper-speed on his death machine. My tiny skirt and sleeveless corset weren’t meant for gallivanting around Milan so late.
Pulling into a short term parking bay, he killed the engine and kicked down the stand. I immediately sat back, unwinding my arms from around his waist.
The fear remained in my heart, growing thicker with every beat. I couldn’t look at the so-called gentleman without swallowing a cocktail of murderous rage and teary terror.
His profile showed a man with a five o’ clock shadow beginning over his jaw, windswept thick hair, and an edge that catapulted him from sexy to dangerous. He stood out from a crowd. He drew need and desire effortlessly. But there was nothing tame or kind or normal. He reeked of manipulation and control.
He’s an iceberg.
The car park wasn’t empty, but it wasn’t rush hour either. Despite the clunking echo of a couple dragging suitcases toward the terminal, the night was quiet.
Jethro climbed off the bike. Once standing, he rolled his neck, rubbing the cord of muscle with a strong hand. His eyes latched onto mine. They looked darker, more autumn leaf than precious metal, but still as cold.
I glowered back, hoping my hatred was visible.
His face remained closed off—not rising to the challenge of a staring war. Holding out his palm, he waited. The way he watched spoke volumes. He didn’t wonder if I’d take his hand. He knew. He believed in himself so damn much everything other than his wish was dismissed as ludicrous.
Too bad for him, I didn’t do well with the silent treatment. V had trained that out of me. Having a boisterous twin armed me with certain skills. And ignoring moody males was one of them.
Swatting his hand, I pushed off from the black leather and landed on bare feet. The brisk concrete bit into my soles. Wrapping my arms around my shivering torso, I muttered, “As if I’d accept your help. After everything you’ve done so far.”
Dropping his arm, he chuckled. “So far?” He leaned closer. “I’ve done nothing. Not yet. Wait until you’re in my domain and behind closed doors. Then you might have something worthy of being melodramatic about.”
My skills at coping with the future rested on being able to ignore his threats and focus on the now. Standing tall, I said, “I could ask something stupid like why are we at the airport, but I can guess why. However, you failed to think about my schedule—”
“Schedules change.”