Page 31 of Twisted Devotion

It’s an awfully sad sight. I don’t want to hurt this woman who is very clearly hurting herself, but I won’t let her come close enough to put a hand on Jackson.

I turn fast enough to push Jackson away and whirl around seconds before the woman’s fist connects with my chest. It doesn’t exactly hurt; it’s more of an annoyance. With my training background—and the fact that she’s human—she can’t really hurt me.

“What’s your name?” I ask in a calm voice, attempting to show the woman empathy in hopes of deescalating the tension before the situation gets further out of hand.

“Shut up!” she hollers, her cracked lips trembling. “You don’t give a damn about me!”

I frown. “Why do you think that?”

She bares her teeth in a snarl. “Because I’m human now.”

Now?

I nod slowly, understanding flooding in. “You were fae.”

“Yes.” Her eyes narrow. “I handed over my life savings to that monster to make me human. So I could live a normal life with my family.”

“You got what you paid for,” Jackson cuts in, and I have to bite back a growl.

Of course, he didn’t leave.

“No,” she seethes. “We didn’t.”

“We?” I cut in, stepping toward her to guide her back, even farther away from Jackson.

Her eyes snap back to me. “My husband was also fae.”

“So, when you found out you could both live as humans, you underwent the procedure,” I assume.

She sniffles, shoving her hands into the pockets of the oversized sweater. “Yes, we did.”

“Her husband didn’t survive the transition,” Jackson tells me, and the woman winces, clenching her jaw.

“He’s dead because ofyou,” she snarls at him.

Jackson sighs, as if this encounter is a mere inconvenience to him, though his pulse is ticking slightly faster than normal. “He knew the risks going into the procedure,” Jax reminds her. “You both did. I’m sorry for your loss, but you need to leave. Now.”

“The hell I do.” She shakes her head. In fact, her whole body is visibly shaking. “No. You’re going to pay for what you did.”

When she pulls out a handgun, my focus narrows on it. Suddenly, I’m not standing in the parking lot of the facility, but in the living room of my foster home, watching my parents die.

It takes me a few seconds, but I manage to force the memory away. I can’t let my past jeopardize Jackson’s life.

“Don’t make me take that from you,” I plead with her as my hands shake at my sides—not enough for the human to notice, but Jackson will if he’s paying attention. “You can walk away from this right now.”

“No, I can’t.” Her unsteady arm lifts the gun, aiming it at Jackson, which of course means it’s pointed directly at my face.

“Jackson,” I whisper so only he can hear. “Security would be helpful right about now.”

“You’re telling me you can’t take her out?” He sounds doubtful, and I fight the urge to curse at him. Of course, I can take her out—I just don’t want to. She’s already hurting enough.

This is the job you signed up for, I remind myself. This was never about sitting around an office or living in a mansion. This is about protecting the fae behind me—at all costs.

I step forward, closer to the gun that could very easily and quickly put a bullet between my eyes. It might not kill me, but it would hurt like hell. I’d be out of commission for a while and require extra feedings to heal from a shot that close range.

Without warning, she launches herself at me, slamming the butt of the gun against the side of my face.

I wince, but manage to grab her around the waist, pulling her away from Jackson. A shot goes off, and I shove her back, spinning around to lock eyes with Jackson for a moment—just long enough to recognize he’s unharmed.

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