Twisted Devotion: A Fae Paranormal Romance

by Jessi Elliott

  I start pulling off my clothes, groaning in frustration when I can’t get my bra undone. “Help.”

  Jackson chuckles softly, helping me out of my clothes and into pajamas. His eyes don’t linger anywhere; they stay on my face, which makes my chest tighten.

  He cares about me.

  “You shouldn’t look at me like that,” I mumble, rolling away from him once he pulls the covers over me.

  The bed shifts under him as he sits on the side. “And how’s that?”

  “You know how,” I say around a yawn.

  “Would you like to hear me say it, Red?”

  My heart races. “Why? Scared the big bad wolf is gonna find me next?”

  Jackson goes very still. “Kelsey,” he says, waiting for me to look at him. I roll onto my back and turn my face toward him. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.” He leans forward and cups my chin. “I don’t give a shit what our roles have been over the last several weeks. I’m going to keep you safe no matter what. You understand me?”

  I nod in his grip. “Kyle was all I had left of my human life,” I whisper. “I have nothing now.”

  His eyes study mine, and he shakes his head. “You have me.” He moves his hand from my chin to my cheek, and I lean into his touch. “Sleep now. We’ll figure everything out in the morning.”

  “Will you stay with me?” I ask before I can feel weird about it.

  A ghost of a smile touches his lips. “Of course.” He removes his shoes and slides back on the bed, lying next to me.

  I tuck myself against his chest and close my eyes before I realize that while I told him we’d never share a bed, after tonight, we’ll have both slept in the other’s.

  The next morning, I wake up and immediately reach for Jackson, but he’s not there. Panic grips me, and I throw the blankets back, getting out of bed and hurrying down the hall. Voices carry up the stairs, too many to focus on when I’m still so groggy.

  Stepping into the living room off the foyer I find Tristan, Aurora, Nikolai, Skylar, and Jackson sitting around the room with grim expressions.

  “Hi,” I say, suddenly feeling awkward, as if I interrupted something important.

  “Hey, Kelsey,” Aurora says in a gentle tone, offering me a smile. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine. Ready to handle these monsters. That’s what you guys are discussing, right?” I’m ready to dive in and get justice for my family. My fists are itching to fight.

  Jackson sighs. “I think it’s best if you sit this one out, Red.”

  I whirl on him. “What?”

  “You’re in danger,” Nikolai cuts in.

  When did he get back?

  “Human or not,” Nik continues, “from the sounds of it, they have some connections in this city, and we’re not going to allow you to put yourself in harm’s way by acting too fast and recklessly because you blame yourself for something that wasn’t your fault.”

  I gape at him as anger bubbles to the surface. “First off, allow me? Are you kidding?”

  Skylar waves her hand, catching my attention. “Kelsey, he didn’t mean that how it sounded. We’re your friends, we’re all family, and we protect one another. That’s what he meant.”

  I blow past it. “I’m going to hunt down the people who killed Kyle and make them deeply regret ever deciding to go after my foster family. It’s that simple. They’re human. I’m faster, stronger, and a hell of a lot smarter than them. I’ll take them out without even breaking a sweat.”

  “You’re not as smart as you believe if you think going after them alone is a good idea,” Aurora says, and Tristan glances at her, frowning. “I’m sorry,” she adds, “but it’s true.”

  There’s a knock at the door before I can answer, and Jackson slips out of the room to answer it.

  My breath catches when he walks back into the room with Seth beside him. Allison and Monica follow behind them, pushing a stroller with a sleeping Adam inside. Allison passes it off to Aurora and follows Monica to take a seat next to the others.

  I rush to Seth and wrap my arms around his shoulders. He hugs me back, and while I’m trying to be gentle with him, his grip is firm—which is a good sign.

  “How are you?” I ask, pulling back to give him a once-over.

  “I’m feeling good,” he says. “I’m sorry about Kyle. We’re going to make this right.”

  I force a smile. “Yeah.”

  “We have a plan,” Tristan announces, and the rest of us take a seat around the room. “The men who killed Kyle were released from prison, likely through paying the right people to do the wrong thing. We were able to track one of them down and get some information out of him. It looks like they were planning on finding the remaining Young family members—Kyle and you, Kelsey—in search of money, which you already know.”

  Kyle and I were the only ones left. Both Mark and Claire’s parents had passed, and neither had siblings.

  “I don’t have their money and there’s no way Kyle did, either.” My hands clench into fists in my lap as I grit my teeth. The same four words play over in my head on a loop.

  He didn’t deserve this.

  I shake my head, glaring at my lap. “It’s not fair.”

  “We know,” Skylar says. “Which is why we’re going to make sure they don’t get away with it.”

  “Please tell me we’re going to kill them,” I say. “It’s what they deserve.”

  “Has there not been enough bloodshed?” Seth asks, his voice reeking of sadness.

  My heart cracks. “What do you suggest we do?”

  He scratches the back of his head. “What if we erase their memories of everything related to your foster family? I realize the damage has already been done. Too many innocent lives lost. But if we plant new memories in their heads about crimes they’ve committed that will guarantee them life behind bars, and then force them to turn themselves in, that will at least bring them to justice.”

  “How exactly do you expect to catch these guys? The police are looking for them, right? If you’re all vetoing my killing them, why don’t we leave it to them to do their job?”

  “Because you’re still in danger every moment they’re out there,” Jackson says in a low voice. “They pose a threat to you. We’re going after them.”

  My mouth goes dry, and I quickly scan the room. “Is that part of the decided plan, too?”

  “Yes,” Tristan says, taking control of the conversation. “We’re not making you sit it out—as much as Jackson would like us to. You’ll play an important part.”

  “I’ll do whatever needs to be done,” I vow.

  Tristan nods. “I had one of my private investigators with ties to the police department pull the old case file from your family’s murder and go over everything. He also had a look at what the detectives have so far in Kyle’s file. He deduced that the men who killed Kyle likely connected him to you after seeing the two of you together at the café he worked at. I can give you his report if you’d like to review it, but essentially, the plan is to set you up at the café. Have you go there on a daily basis. If they have eyes on the place, which we expect they do, waiting for you to return, it shouldn’t take long to see some action.”

  “You think they’ll try to attack her there?” Seth cuts in, his brows knitted with concern.

  “Probably not, but they may try to take her from that location. She’s strong enough to protect herself until the rest of us can show up and deal with them.”

  “I could deal with them myself,” I mutter under my breath, and Jackson touches the small of my back where no one else can see. I press my lips together, not having heard him move closer to me but oddly comforted by his nearness.

  “We’ll monitor the area while you’re there,” Tristan continues. “That way, once something happens—if something happens—we’ll be around to track you to wherever they take you.”

  “Fine,” I say.

  “Do you have any questions?” Nikolai asks.

  “It’s a
lot you’ve just dumped on her,” Allison says, speaking for the first time since arriving. “Give the girl some time.”

  Tristan nods. “Of course. We’ll start tomorrow?”

  I nod without adding anything more. At this point, there’s nothing left to say.

  Once the living room clears out, I fall back onto one of the couches and lean back against the cushion, staring at the ceiling.

  Seth drops onto the couch beside me and leans in. “Are you okay?”

  I turn my head to look at him. “I can’t lie, so I’m not going to answer that.”

  He frowns. “It’s going to be okay, Kelsey. I know it doesn’t feel that way now, but I promise. You have a lot of people who care about you here. They will take care of this, and you. Always.”

  “Do you really think this plan is going to work?” I ask him.

  He sighs. “I don’t know, but if you don’t want to wait for the police to try to catch these men, I think what Tristan explained is our best bet.”

  “Yeah,” I say, stretching my legs out and propping them on the coffee table. “I barely got to know Kyle as an adult, but I already miss him.”

  “I know,” Seth says, reaching for my hand. “Once this is all over, we’ll make sure you are able to say goodbye properly.”

  Tears sting my eyes. “Thank you. I’m really glad you’re back.”

  “Even though I’m human now?” he asks with a grin.

  I lean into his side, resting my head against his shoulder, and then I wrap my other arm around his. “You’re my best friend and you’re here. That’s the only thing that matters to me now.”

  After Skylar steps into my place as Jackson’s guard, I sit in the café every day for hours. For a week straight. At the same time each day to establish a clear routine. I order the same latte that I never finish, and bring my laptop to make it look like I’m working. It’s an odd reality, being upset each time I leave that I wasn’t ambushed or kidnapped. But sitting on my ass every day, while the people who killed Kyle are still out there doing god knows what, is driving me insane. I can’t keep this up much longer. The desire to take action is making me antsy.

  Nikolai advises me to take the weekend off or it will look like the setup it is. No one works seven days a week from the same café, at least not typically, and we don’t want to tip them off if they’ve been watching me.

  I spend the next two days either at the hotel with Seth or training at the warehouse.

  I’m grateful for the distance from Jackson. Things with him were getting complicated very fast, and this time away should help me clear my head and figure things out.

  Kicking off my running shoes, I walk across the mats and grab the fifty-pound barbell and stand in front of the mirror. I deadlift the weight until my knees are burning and my forehead is damp with sweat, then I set it on the mat and head for the punching bag hanging from the ceiling. Glancing at my fists, I shrug, opting to take a few swings without gloves.

  A few minutes in, I’m gritting my teeth and grunting angrily as my fists connect with the solid bag, moving it with each hit. I picture the faceless men who took everything from me and throw everything I have into smashing the bag. My knuckles sting and my wrists start to ache, but I don’t stop. I’m in the zone. So much so, I don’t hear the double doors on the far side of the room open and slam shut.

  “Easy, Red. What’d that punching bag ever do to you?” Jackson flashes a grin as he approaches, and my heart races in response—any faster and I might stroke out over here.

  I drop my arms and grab my water bottle from the floor, chugging a bunch before tossing it to the side. My chest is still heaving, making it hard to speak, but I force out, “What are you doing here?”

  “Skylar wanted to train, so I tagged along.”

  I arch a brow. “Where is she?”

  He glances over his shoulder. “She said something about running laps around the track outside to warm up.”

  I press my lips together against a smile. “I see.”

  “I also wanted to see you, and Seth said you were here.”

  Traitor.

  I shake my arms out, curling and uncurling my fists. “Why did you want to see me?”

  He steps closer. “I haven’t seen you in a week, Kelsey. After spending every day together for two months, let’s just say your absence was noted.”

  A flush races across my chest; my cheeks are already pink from the workout but even they grow warmer. “You—”

  “Missed you,” he offers.

  “Oh,” I say, immediately feeling ridiculous. I could’ve done better than that. Perhaps I’m a little worried that if I allow myself to say more I’ll tell Jackson that I missed him, too.

  He chuckles. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot, Red. Worried about what you’re doing.”

  “I’m fine, Jax,” I assure him with a sigh.

  “I know you can take care of yourself and I understand why you’re doing it, I just . . . the thought of you putting yourself in danger is making me crazy.”

  My eyes go wide. “Jackson . . .”

  His eyes meet mine. “Don’t give me that tone, Red. This shouldn’t come as a surprise. You know I care about you.”

  Say it back, say it back, say it back.

  I close my eyes, swallow hard, and take a leap. “I care about you, too.” When I open my eyes, Jackson is right there, close enough to reach out and touch. So that’s exactly what I do. Draping my arms over his shoulder, I step in until our noses brush. “Jax?”

  He rests his forehead against mine, breathing deeply. “Hmm?”

  My eyes flutter shut. “Kiss me.”

  His fingers splay across my cheek as his mouth crashes into mine, sealing us together. Hearts beating together, the world closes in on this moment, and I know leaving this man is going to break both of us.

  Chapter 21

  I spend the rest of the weekend at Jackson’s. Mostly in his bed. Sometimes mine. Occasionally in the shower. Or the hot tub that I only just found out he had.

  Needless to say, by the time Sunday night rolls around, I’m a fuzzy mix of satisfied and exhausted. I fall asleep quickly, nestled in Jackson’s arms, and have the distant desire to never leave this spot.

  “I don’t want you to go,” Jackson says the next morning, his arm wrapped around my bare waist.

  I sigh, turning my head on the pillow to look at him. “It’s the only thing they’re letting me do, Jax. I have to. I couldn’t protect Kyle from these bastards, but I sure as hell am going to help take them down.”

  He glances down to where is thumb is tracing circles on my skin. “If something were to happen to you . . .”

  My chest tightens. “Nothing is going to happen to me.” I wiggle free from his grasp and slide off the bed, walking across the room into the en-suite bathroom to turn on the shower.

  Once I’m ready to go, Jackson walks me to the front door, where Skylar walks in. Her eyes flick between us and a faint, knowing smirk plays on her lips.

  I stop in the doorway after Skylar walks around us into the house. “I’ll see you later,” I tell Jackson.

  He nods, leaning down to kiss me slowly, making my lips tingle when he pulls away. “I’m counting on it, Red.”

  I spend the day flipping through emails, random news articles, and social media apps. I sip on my vanilla latte and order a grilled cheese around lunchtime. I catch eyes with one of Jackson’s guards for a brief moment, but not long enough for any observers to notice. There’s been a different guard placed somewhere in the café each day I’ve been here, and knowing part of our team is here with me at all times calms my nerves.

  Even if I wish it could be Jackson.

  Not that I’d ever put him in that position, that danger, but I do miss him. I almost smile at how easily I can admit it.

  That happened fast.

  Seth and I text back and forth throughout the day, and Allison spams me with photos of different apartment listings she and Monica are apparently searchin
g through. I wasn’t aware they were looking for a place together, but it makes me smile. They’ve been through a lot—we all have—and they deserve to find a place to enjoy their lives together.

  When it comes time to pack up and head out, I take my empty ceramic mug back up to the counter and thank the barista even though it’s a different girl than the one who made my drink hours ago. With a defeated sigh, I shoulder my bag and leave the café, the bell above the door ringing, alerting me of another failure of a day.

  Walking down the sidewalk, I pull my keys out of my bag and head for my car. I had to park several blocks away this morning when I was unable to find a spot closer to the café, but I don’t mind the walk. The night view above me is calming, the hues of deep blue painted through the sky without a cloud in sight. I’m not used to seeing it so clear, especially in the city. It’s nice.

  My shoe catches an uneven part of the sidewalk and I stumble, dropping my keys with a curse as I catch my balance before face-planting into the concrete. I bend to retrieve them and I barely have time to recognize the sound of boots pounding the sidewalk behind me before I’m struck from behind.

  Here we go. Finally.

  The world around me blurs as I straighten and spin around to face my attacker, only to be back-handed across my face. I grunt in pain—my cheek burning—and knee the guy in the stomach. Not hard enough to do any damage, but enough to make it appear like I’m fighting back. Like this isn’t a setup. My pulse races like it’s real, though—being hit in the face tends to get a person’s blood pumping.

  The man advances again, his face hidden in the shadows of an oversized black hoodie. He grabs me—his fingers digging into my shoulders—and spins me around, caging my arms in his grip. My heart pounds, screaming at me to fight back, but I push down the urge to destroy this guy. I could end him in three seconds flat, but that isn’t the plan.

  Stick to the plan, I chant in my head, until I’m not fighting the urge to smack this guy’s head against the pavement.

  A black delivery van with tinted windows speeds around the corner, pulling up to the curb and braking so hard the tires squeal.