Twisted Devotion: A Fae Paranormal Romance

by Jessi Elliott

  I squeeze his hand back, and he looks up at me. “Don’t apologize. Just talk to me.”

  He swallows hard. “I’m close to the end of my rope.”

  I blink at him. “Meaning?”

  “I’ve lived more lifetimes than I could possibly want, Kelsey.”

  My heart stutters, cracking slowly and painfully.

  Seth wants to die.

  Head spinning, I pull my hand back. “You—”

  “This is why I didn’t want to tell you. That look on your face right now is breaking my heart.”

  “Your heart?” I shake my head. “What about mine, Seth? You come back after months of radio silence to tell me you’re ready to die. How do you expect me to handle that?”

  He nods. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I—”

  “Stop. Stop saying that,” I snap, cutting him off, and he flinches.

  Seth frowns. “You said you would try to understand.”

  “I am trying!” Tears prick my eyes and I quickly blink them away. “You can’t expect me to be okay with losing you.”

  His frown shifts into a sad smile. “I know, and I don’t. You have every right to be furious with me. I just hope you care about me enough to support me. I am not dying tomorrow, Kelsey. I’ll live out my remaining mortal years here. We will have time before it’s time to say goodbye.”

  Every fae is different when it comes to how their immortal years transfer over after the procedure. With Seth having been around for so long, there’s no knowing for sure what will happen. He could age rapidly and die within a few weeks, or, start aging from the thirty-something age he appears to be. It’s a gamble—one I’m desperate for him not to take.

  I sniffle. “This is so messed up. You were there when I became immortal. You and Tristan saved my life and made me fae, and now you want me to be okay with you becoming mortal.”

  He presses his lips together, nodding again. “It is hard, I understand that, but I’m asking you to respect my choice.”

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to say that I didn’t have a choice when he and Tristan made me fae, but I clamp my mouth shut. It’s no use. Seth made up his mind long before I discovered his plan.

  Raking my hands down my face, I blow out a breath. “Fine,” I mumble, my voice heavy with defeat, “but you’d better not take off after the procedure. If I only have one partial lifetime left with you around, you had better be around.”

  Seth offers me a grateful smile. “Thank you.” After several beats of silence, he follows up with, “May I ask you something?”

  Arching a brow at him, I shrug. “Go for it.”

  “Is there something going on between you and Jackson?” His eyes dart toward the doorway before returning to me. “He looks at you like—”

  “We slept together,” I cut in, not wanting to hear what Seth was about to say next. Jackson isn’t allowed to look at me like anything, not when I’m leaving in a matter of weeks.

  His eyes narrow slightly. “You had sex with him. That’s it?”

  “Why?” I counter, “Did Jax say something to you?”

  Seth shakes his head. “Just making some interesting observations.”

  “Well, don’t. It’s a waste of your soon-to-be limited time left on this earth.”

  He shoots me a dry look.

  “I can’t talk about it here,” I finally whisper.

  His brows shoot up. “So there is more to it.”

  “Well done, detective,” I deadpan and then freeze.

  Hold on. What am I even admitting to right now?

  That there’s more between Jax and I than sex?

  That is not a rabbit hole I’m prepared to go down, especially not after today’s events.

  “Do you think he’s listening?” Seth asks.

  “He’s got the maturity of a teenager most days, so if I had to bet, yeah.”

  “I see. Either way, I am glad you have him.”

  A flush creeps across my cheeks and heats my chest. “I don’t have him. We’re just . . .” I trail off, my stomach filling with dread.

  Oh god. What are we? Son of a—why do I even care?

  Jax had been more concerned about making a profit; he didn’t care that it would break my heart.

  “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.” Jackson’s voice startles me, and I whip my head around to find him leaning in the doorway. Nothing on his face gives away whether or not he was listening to our conversation, but my heart beats too fast anyway.

  Anger lingers in my chest when I look at him. Regardless, he still sends my pulse racing.

  “Point me in the direction of your restroom?” Seth asks, and Jackson obliges. “Thank you. I shall return.”

  I open my mouth, but Seth exits the room quickly.

  “Red—”

  “Don’t,” I cut in. “I’m not ready to talk to you about this.”

  “You’re angry,” he offers.

  I press my lips together into a tight line before saying, “We were doing so well—finally. We found a routine that worked for us, even had some fun, but you’ve just taken an axe to the trust you built up with me.”

  Jackson glances away, frowning. “I understand. I am sorry, Kelsey.”

  “So am I. That business meant more to you than my feelings.”

  Whoa. Where the hell did that come from?

  Jackson tilts his head back, meeting my gaze—apparently I’m not the only one surprised by my words. “That’s not true at all.” He closes the distance between us, but he walks into my outstretched fist before he can get close enough to really touch me. “I’m not making anything off this procedure, Kelsey.”

  I blink at him. “You—”

  “I’m not taking his money.” He shakes his head. “I don’t want it. I understand how much this is hurting you, and while I’d never deny someone the choice of human life, I didn’t want to see him go through with this.”

  “Oh.” I drop my gaze, unable to look him in the eye any longer.

  Jackson sighs and grasps my chin in his hand, guiding my face up until our eyes meet. His are soft, melted honey, and filled with sincerity. “I’m sorry you thought I cared more about making money than I do about you.”

  I swallow hard. This moment just got very real.

  This is more than working together or sleeping together.

  My heart beats against my ribcage, so hard I’m convinced it’s trying to break free from my chest.

  “If you don’t walk away from me, I’m going to kiss you,” he warns in a low voice.

  I crush my lips against his before he can take another breath.

  “Thanks again for putting me in touch with Tristan,” Kyle says, sitting across from me at my favorite diner for breakfast the next morning.

  “Of course,” I say around a mouthful of cinnamon-roll-flavored pancake. I lick the cream cheese icing from my lips. “Did the two of you work something out?”

  He bites into a piece of bacon and nods. “I’m going to oversee preparations for the annual charity thing.”

  I smile at him. “That’s great. The Westbrook Inc. Gala is a huge event.”

  “Sounds like it. Tristan met with me yesterday and went over the basics.” Kyle swallows, shaking his head. “It was so weird, though. I could’ve sworn I knew the guy.”

  My pulse jumps and tightness fills my chest. “What?”

  “Yeah. It doesn’t make sense, but he seemed so familiar.”

  I force a shrug and try to smile. “He’s got one of those faces. Plus, he’s the owner of the Westbrook Hotel. You’ve probably seen his face online or something.”

  Kyle purses his lips. “Huh. Yeah, that could be it.”

  I exhale slowly, holding up my coffee mug to shield my mouth, and make a mental note to call Tristan once breakfast is over. There’s no way Kyle could remember him from when our foster family was killed and Tristan had him relocated, but I need reassurance on that.

  Kyle stabs one of the four eggs on his plate, making the bright yellow
yolk spill out and touch his hash browns. “Have you decided where you’re going after you’re done with work?”

  “Not really,” I say, “but I’ve always wanted to visit Amsterdam.”

  His eyes widen. “Damn. That would be really cool.”

  I nod. “Right?”

  “You should wait for me to finish school so I can crash your trip. I’d make an awesome photographer. Just saying.”

  I smile at him, knowing full well I’m not waiting another handful of months for him to graduate for me to leave Rockdale. “Don’t worry. There will be plenty of time to travel. We can go back.”

  He shoots me a grin, understanding filling his expression. “Of course.”

  After we’re done with breakfast and fight over the bill—a battle I win with my credit card—Kyle walks me to my car and wraps his arms around me in a bear hug. As weird as I thought reuniting with my foster brother would be, this feels completely normal. Like we didn’t spend those years apart. I’m glad Kyle is back in my life, and no matter where I end up after I’m done my contract with Jackson, I’m going to make sure he stays there.

  On my way to Jackson’s house to pick him up so we can head into work, I send Tristan a voice memo about what Kyle said, expressing my mild concern about his memory. When I pull into the driveway, there’s a text from him.

  Don’t worry about it. He doesn’t remember.

  Uhhh, okay, I think.

  That wasn’t exactly the reassurance I was looking for, but evidently that’s all I’m going to get. Fair enough; Tristan is likely inundated with work since starting back at the hotel. If he says Kyle can’t remember his mind manipulation, I have to believe him, so I send a text back.

  Okay. Thanks again for meeting with him and helping out.

  His response comes in a minute later.

  Happy to help. Take care, Kelsey.

  I smile fondly, pocketing my phone as I get out of the car and walk toward the house. When I unlock the door and walk into the foyer, my eyes immediately land on Jackson, lying on the couch in the living room with his arm draped over his eyes. My lips twitch as I approach quietly and watch his chest rise and fall evenly. He’s asleep.

  I wish I could sleep like this on the job.

  Instead, I slept with the job.

  Heat rises in my cheeks at the thought—more so because I want to do it again.

  Jackson inhales deeply, stirring, and my pulse jumps, scared I’ll be caught staring at him. His arm slides away from his face and drops down the front of the couch, but his eyes stay closed.

  I let out the breath I was holding and walk backward to the foyer. Once I’m out of the room, I turn and walk into the kitchen, where I find Gloria stocking the fridge after a grocery run.

  “Morning,” I say to her with a smile.

  “Oh, hello, dear. How are you doing?

  “Good,” I say, “and you? How are your boys?”

  She beams. “I’m well, thank you. As are they.” She slides a carton of eggs onto a shelf in the fridge. “Can I get you anything?”

  “Oh, no, I’m okay. Thanks, though. Jackson and I need to get going soon, but he’s asleep in the other room.”

  Gloria smiles. “You seem to have warmed up to each other,” she observes.

  I laugh. “Yeah, he’s not all bad.”

  “I understand you’ll be leaving fairly soon. Mr. Hawthorne is sure to miss having you around. I know I will.”

  A pang of sadness fills my chest. “Yeah,” I say. “I’ll miss . . . you guys as well.”

  Gloria offers me another smile, but there’s a twinkle in her eye as if she suspects there’s more meaning in my words than I’d like her to believe.

  “I should wake Jackson so we can get to the office,” I tell her.

  She nods and says, “Have a good day, dear.”

  I return to the living room as Jackson hauls himself off the couch with a wide yawn and stretches, raising his arms in the air high enough to make his shirt lift and expose the firm, toned line of his stomach.

  I force my eyes away from his annoyingly impressive abdomen and meet his gaze, scowling when he winks at me.

  Jackson saunters over to the desk with a smirk playing on his lips. “You like the show?”

  “You usually sleep during work hours?”

  He drags his fingers through his messy black hair. “I’m in charge. I can do whatever I want, Red.”

  “Right.” I drag out the word as I step into the room. “We should get going.”

  The smirk fades from his lips. “We can head out in a few minutes. There’s something I need to tell you first, though.” He sits on the couch and pats the spot next to him, waiting for me to join him.

  I exhale heavily and walk to the couch, lowering myself onto it and folding my hands in my lap. “Okay. Go ahead.” I’m trying to keep my composure, but when Jackson gets serious like this, it’s never for a good reason.

  “While you were at breakfast with Kyle this morning, Seth completed all the tests and signed the paperwork for the procedure. You know as well as I do that I shouldn’t be sharing this information with you, and under any other circumstance, I wouldn’t. But Seth gave me permission to tell you.”

  I swallow hard, nodding. “Why didn’t he tell me?”

  His brows knit. “Ah, he said you might take it better coming from me.” He shrugs. “I’m not sure why, but I told him I’d talk to you.”

  I press my lips together. “I told him.”

  “About?”

  “Us,” I finally say after a long moment of hesitation.

  His eyes widen ever so slightly, but his voice remains the same. “What exactly did you tell him?”

  Pushing my hand through my curls to get them out of my face, I say, “That we slept together.”

  He chuckles. “Interesting. I hope you made me sound good.”

  I roll my eyes and smack his arm. “Has his procedure been scheduled?” I ask, bringing the conversation back around.

  Jackson nods, and his soft, golden gaze fills with empathy.

  “When is it?” I whisper, my heart hammering in my chest.

  He glances down, and I suck in a breath.

  “Jax . . .”

  “It’s in three days, Kelsey.”

  My stomach drops as panic clamps down hard on my chest. “No.” I shake my head. “That’s—it’s too soon.”

  “I know you’re worried. Seth does, too. He doesn’t want you to be afraid. But he also doesn’t want to have to feed anymore, so the sooner we do the procedure the better it is for him. For his quality of life.”

  I grip the cushion so hard I’m a little surprised the material doesn’t rip. “He’s staying at the Westbrook?” I assumed Tristan would put him up.

  “Yes.”

  I stand and head for the front door. “I need the rest of the day off.”

  “No.”

  I freeze in the doorway to the foyer, slowly turning toward him. “What do you mean no?”

  Jackson sighs, standing and walking around the couch. “What are you going to do, Red? Try to convince him not to go through with it?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “It’s too late for that. This is what he wants,” he states.

  I cross my arms over my chest. “What are you, his spokesperson? I want to hear this from him.”

  Jackson wets his lips and levels his gaze on me. “You’ll only hurt him if you do what you want to do right now.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut to keep from crying. “I can’t do this,” I finally say, my arms falling to my sides. “I’m trying so hard to be supportive of what he wants, but I can’t do it.”

  Apparently, I don’t hear Jackson approach, because the next time he speaks, his voice is close to my ear. “You’re afraid,” he murmurs in a hypnotic voice. “Tell me why.”

  My eyes fly open, immediately captured by his gaze. “Are you . . . ? You can’t compel me, Jax.”

  He lifts his arm and grazes my neck with hi
s fingers, his eyes never leaving mine. His thumb slides along my jaw, holding me in place. “Talk to me, Red.”

  I swallow past the lump in my throat. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Of course, it does.” He uses his other hand to tug on one of my curls, pulling it straight and letting it bounce back. “Tell me,” he repeats, his tone deeper now.

  Exhaling a shaky breath, I express my fear. “I’m terrified he won’t survive the transition.”

  Jackson surprises me by smiling. “That’s completely normal, and you know that. You know what we tell clients’ family members.”

  “Yeah,” I say, “but this is different.”

  He arches a brow. “Why?”

  “Because I never thought I’d have to feel the fear I see on their faces and stand by and do nothing but be supportive. It’s so hard.”

  Jackson nods, his expression thoughtful and filled with understanding. “It is. But you have to, Red. You have to feel the fear. Feel the fear and endure it anyway.”

  Chapter 18

  Three days later, I’m sitting beside my best friend while he’s prepped for the procedure. The procedure that will change his life—and form of life—forever.

  “Please breathe, Kelsey,” Seth says, sitting up in the small bed. “You are making me nervous.”

  I release a breath. “Sorry.”

  “Everything is going to be fine.” He shoots me a wolfish grin, and my heart clenches. “And do not wait around here while I am undergoing this. Go out and distract yourself, otherwise you’re going to be pacing the halls here, and I do not think Jackson wants to replace the tiles because you’ve worn them down to the subfloor.”

  I offer a dry look. “You’re hilarious.”

  “He’s right,” Jackson says, stepping into the small prep room. He smiles at Seth. “I’ll take care of her.”

  “You better,” Seth says back, his voice devoid of any humor.

  I scowl. “He will not. It’s my job to take care of him. Jesus, how many times do I have to make that clear?”

  “Easy, Kelsey. Let him look out for you, okay?” Seth reaches for my hand and laces his fingers through mine, squeezing them. “For me, please?”