First Debt

His silence had throbbed with regret…of understanding and even mutual anguish.

The moon and stars had given way to another stunning day, miraculously cancelling the horrible ending to a nice party.

The best thing? I’d slept like the dead after Jethro had left me alone. The cry had drained me of everything, leaving me with a thick headache that sent me slamming into unconsciousness.

My phone buzzed.

Shaking my head, I dispelled last night and looked at the glowing screen. I wanted a reply from my twin. But what I got was better.

My heart soared as I read the first message from Kite007 in two weeks.

Kite007: Don’t know why I keep hoping you’ll reply, seeing as you’ve been quiet for two weeks, but I had a shit of a night and need to talk to someone who won’t judge.

He’d been trying to message me?

I quickly scrolled through the inbox but found nothing. My stomach rolled at the thought of Jethro deleting Kite’s messages. What an arsehole.

I’d gone from a secluded seamstress, whose only contact was her father and brother, to being torn in three directions. As much as I wanted to deny it, I had feelings for Kite. He’d been a bastard to me, but he’d granted me the strength to stand up to him, which then led me to develop feelings for Kestrel. Because he’s the same person; I know it.

I still hadn’t gotten up the guts to ask him, but sometimes I’d catch him watching me with secrets in his eyes.

I didn’t care that it might all be a ruse to get inside my head. I didn’t care I was nothing more than a marionette being told what to think and who to trust. I had to forget about all that and follow my heart—because, ultimately, that was the only thing that might save me.

Then, of course, there was Jethro. He confused me, perplexed me, and completely befuddled me. One minute I would gladly pour gasoline over his wintry shell and see if I could burn him into the person I saw rare glimpses of, the next he did things like last night and ruined all the softness I had for him.

How could I understand someone who didn’t even understand himself?

You can’t talk. One second you’re trying to seduce him, the next you’re trying to make him bleed.

We were as bad as each other.

Looking at the text again, I clicked reply. Biting my lip, I wondered why Kes/Kite had had a bad night. What had happened when Jethro tugged me away? And why hadn’t Kes tried to talk to me when he realised I wasn’t replying to his messages?

We saw each other every day. All he had to do was whisper something in my ear. Something that would confirm this labyrinthine mystery once and for all.

Perhaps Jethro showed the new contract to Kes—rubbed it in his face that no matter how Kes felt about me, he could never have me?

Ugh. The headache from last night came back with a heavy cloud.

Needle&Thread: I’m here now. And you’re right, I won’t judge. What happened last night?

It was odd to have nothing sexual included in the message, but our ‘friendship’ had more depth now.

I settled deeper into the pillows. The diamond collar bruised my neck, throbbing with heat; it wasn’t exactly comfortable to sleep in.

Kite007: I stooped to an all-new low. Remember when I said we’re all products of our upbringing? Well, I keep blaming everything wrong inside me on that. I use it as an excuse, but what if it isn’t good enough anymore?

Oh, my God.

I’d never heard Kite sound so melancholy. My heartbeat increased as my fingers flew over the keyboard.

Needle&Thread: There’s nothing wrong inside you.

I paused before pressing send. If I did this, he would know I suspected. If he read between the lines and didn’t see it as a blasé comment, the truth would be out and the choice of how to proceed would be in his court. Did I want him to have that power?

Gritting my teeth, I pressed send.

Immediately, I got a reply.

Kite007: You don’t know anything about me.

Needle&Thread: We can keep pretending if you’d like, but it’s just another excuse. It sounds like you’re ready to face the truth. So…it’s your call if you want to or not.

Minutes ticked past.

My mind skipped back to the day I’d arrived. The welcome luncheon, the night in the kennels, and the strange degrading encounters with Jethro. How was it the Hawks had everything, yet everyone seemed to be hiding the truth? Jethro was hiding. Kes was hiding. Daniel had disappeared—the little creep—and Cut walked around with an air of mystique.

There was so much beneath the surface that no one dared discuss.

And, if I was honest, they’d transformed me into the same kind of creature. Someone who had evolved from a single dimension and now lived with so many avenues of personalities.

I was still the quiet, vertigo-stricken girl from London, but I was also the woman who liked being tormented, who thrived on a fight, and who thirsted for sex.

And that stupefied me even more, because I wanted sex with Jethro, not Kestrel.

What does that mean?

Jethro had made me come totally and spectacularly in front of witnesses. He’d manipulated me—given me a reward. It was both sick and…sweet.

No, never sweet, Nila.

Yes, sweet.

Beneath the mask, he was so many things, and sweet was one of them.

Kite007: My call? You’re so sure I’ll be honest?

Needle&Thread: Why wouldn’t you be? You know who I am. I want to know who you are. I’m trustworthy.

Kite007: You’re wrong. I don’t know who you are. Every day I think I do, but then you do something that changes my perception. You’re a complexity.

My heart exploded.

Finally. Confirmation.

Every day you do…

Not say, or text, or imply. Do—as in action—physical.

My hands shook as I replied.

Needle&Thread: Perhaps you need to drop your guard, in order to see in to others. You’re just as complex, just as confounding.

The second I pressed send, I panicked. He’d admitted we knew each other. I’d admitted it, too. This anonymous freedom was now a knowledgeable cage.

Kite007: Tell me one thing you’ve lied about. Tell me the truth. Let me see what you’re hiding.

My brain smarted. There were so many secrets, too many puzzles. I’d changed so much; I no longer knew what I should hide. The little kitten who didn’t have claws would’ve curled into a ball at such a revealing question, but that was no longer an option, and I didn’t want it to be.

I was no longer afraid of diving deep and finding out who I truly was.