Page 12 of Twisted Desire

“We would like you to join us,” Allison tells her. “There’s no pressure. It’s not going to be a pleasant journey, but I understand how you feel about these people and that you want to help put a stop to their organization.”

She looks at Allison. “Do you think it’s a good idea?”

Allison places her hand on her shoulder. “It’s up to you, Mon. No one can decide this for you.”

She presses her lips together as if she’s struggling to land on a decision.

“You don’t have to decide right now,” Allison reassures her.

Monica places her hand over Allison’s. “Thank you,” she murmurs, then takes a deep breath and glances around at the rest of us. “Are you guys hungry? I was about to start lunch.”

“Oh, hell yeah,” Seth says, making Monica laugh.

“Perfect,” she replies, standing from the couch.

“Can we help?” Oliver chimes in.

“Oh no,” she waves him off. “You guys hang out and rest. I’ve got this.” She heads for the kitchen, and Allison follows her, making Oliver frown.

“What’s going on there?” he asks.

I shrug. “Not sure. They’ve been in contact a bit since Tristan and Aurora left, but I didn’t realize they were close.”

“I don’t think whatever might be going on between the two of them is something we should or have time to be concerned about,” Nikolai comments, getting up from his chair.

“So what’s next?” Kelsey asks. “Are we going to contact the people on Monica’s list?”

“That seems like the best place to start,” Seth adds, his moss-green eyes focused and carefully monitoring our surroundings. We’re safe as we can be here, but it’s good to know he’s on alert.

“It’s really the only place to start. After lunch, we’ll each take a contact and see if we can reach them. Try to set up a meeting with whoever you can reach, and we’ll go from there.”

Nikolai leaves the room, walking toward the kitchen, and Oliver stands and wanders around. He stops in front of a bookshelf and stares at a picture of Max and Monica together, laughing as someone took their photo.

I walk over and stand beside him, keeping my voice low, just loud enough for him to hear. “You know, he wouldn’t be disappointed if you wanted out,” I say, trying to soften my tone.

Oliver frowns as he turns to look at me. “Are you telling me to leave?”

I shake my head. “If I didn’t want you here, I wouldn’t have let you come. You have every right to be here, but this is going to get dangerous fast. Max would never want something bad to happen to you because you thought you owed it to him to come with us.”

He blinks. “I’m not leaving, Skylar.”

I hold my hands up in defense. “Okay. I’m sorry to upset you. I just wanted you to know—”

“I know what I signed up for.” He pulls what looks like a photo album off the shelf and flips it open. Immediately, my eyes fall on a picture of Max, Tristan, and me.

I can’t help but smile at the joyful looks on our faces. “That was a long time ago,” I comment when Oliver runs his finger over the photo. I don’t remember exactly when the photo was snapped, but I know that I would give anything to feel how I felt in that moment. I miss them—my friends, mybrothers. They were the only family I had. We all lost our parents in the last fae war, the one that sent us to live on earth in the first place.

“You guys look so happy,” he says in a quiet voice, bringing me back to the present.

“We were,” I tell him, patting his shoulder gently before I walk away, leaving him to look through the photos. It’s not until I’m walking away that I realize my eyes are watering, and I’m unable to swallow past the lump in my throat. I didn’t expect to have such a reaction to seeing a photo.

You miss your best friends, a voice in my head says, and it’s right. I’m no stranger to pain or loss, but this is different. One friend is dead, and the other doesn’t know I exist. At this point, I’m not sure which hurts the most.

The air is thick when I walk into the kitchen. My eyes immediately land on where Allison stands on the far side of the room, beside the fridge, holding a sobbing Monica. She’s crying so hard, she’s barely making a sound. Her shoulders are shaking violently, and by the looks of it, she’s soaked the shoulder of Allison’s shirt.

“Allison, why don’t you—?”

“On it,” she says, guiding Monica out of the room.

---