Fourth Debt

“Don’t I? Ever since you told me what you were, I’ve wondered. When you died, it killed me to think I’d never know the truth. Never know if you felt the depth that I feel for you—or the pain I felt when you were taken from me.”


Dragging both hands through my hair, my side burned with pain. Her words whipped me like a thousand bullets. As an empath I was subjected to hundreds of emotional pulls and tugs every day. I was whittled down within an inch of sanity every second.

But that didn’t mean I copied the strongest thoughts. It didn’t mean I was weak and couldn’t think for myself. If anything, my condition made me stronger. Not only did I cross-examine every opinion and sentiment but I also learned how to barricade my own conclusions from being tainted by others.

My true thoughts were in a fortress, untouched and pure and I knew exactly what I felt toward her—regardless that she’d lied to me.

She doesn’t trust me.

I stopped pacing, turning to face her. “Is that what you’ve thought all along? That I’m not truly in love with you?”

Goosebumps covered her skin; she looked away. “Honestly, I didn’t want to think. I wanted to believe in the fantasy, rather than pick our relationship apart. This past month has been hell; I won’t deny that. Those first few days when I thought you were dead, I really wanted to be, too. But having you back …it all seems too good to be true. How can I trust that you’re here for me? That you’ll save me? End this?”

Her eyes narrowed on mine. “Do you want to do that for me or for yourself? Because if it’s for me, then how can you pick your family over a girl who made you love her? How can you even consider killing your father—no matter how horrid he’s been to you—when you can’t be sure I didn’t manipulate you the same way Cut did all those years.”

I backed away.

She successfully sliced my soul into ribbons, making me doubt that her emotions for me were genuine. Had they all been an act to get me on her side?

You don’t believe that.

She confused me—tore apart the only thing that’d been true in my life, and made me doubt.

Damn her. Damn all of this.

Deliberately, I dropped my guard and let my condition reach for her, tasting her cocktail of lust and panic.

I did my utmost to find a thread of lies. To see if her affection for me was bullshit. But unlike my father and his rare moments of comradery and respect, there was no sulking undertones or passive-aggressive control.

She was honest and true. She loved me. She might not have set out to love me, but it happened anyway.

Sighing, I dropped to my knees in front of her. “You have it backward, Nila.”

She shook her head. “I don’t see—”

“You don’t see because you don’t fully understand.” I looked at the yellow stalks of hay, wishing we were somewhere safe and bright. This conversation had brought shadows between us that had no right to be there. “Yes, I’m more influenced by others’ emotions but I’m still my own person. I still have the right of choice and reflection. I’ve been around women. I’ve been around friends and enemies. I’ve lived a normal life like any man and could’ve found happiness if I chose it.”

She flinched. Her fingers fiddled with her nightgown.

Stopping her fidgeting fingers with mine, I smiled. “But, Nila, I’m still governed by my heart. Did I let you influence me? No. I let you in because I saw how strong and brave you were. I let you in because I remembered the girl I met and the way I used to feel around her. I let you in because I saw someone lost and just as controlled as I was when I first messaged you.”

She gasped, trembling in my hold.

I wasn’t done.

Pepper Winters's books