Page 64 of Twisted Devotion

“What happened, Allison?” he asks.

“It looks like it was the same people who ambushed your foster family, Kels. From the sounds of it, they recently got out of jail. They were looking for you and it seems as though they found Kyle in connection with you. His apartment was completely torn apart, like they were looking for something. Most likely money. We think they figured you and Kyle would have whatever was left from your foster parents’ fortune from inheritance when they died.”

No. Oh god, no.

This can’t be. Hecan’tbe dead because of me, because I came back into his life. Something else happened. This can’t be it.

Why would they be looking for me?

They already took everything.

I blink quickly as tears gather in my eyes, blurring my vision. “I have to go,” I say and end the call before she can protest. Forcing the tears down, I swallow hard and adjust my grip on the wheel.

“Maybe you should pull over and let me drive,” Jackson suggests calmly.

“No,” I croak, my mind going a million miles an hour—about as quickly as my heart is breaking.

Jackson sighs. “Pull over, Kelsey. I don’t need you crashing my car and giving us both whiplash.”

“I’m not stopping,” I tell him, keeping my eyes on the road as I make another haphazard turn.

He reaches over and rests his hand on top of mine. “Kelsey.”

Son of a—

I want to close my eyes and get lost in the sound of his voice, have it wrap me up and keep me safe from the terrible people who destroyed my human life. But I’m not human anymore,theyare—and I’m going to make them pay for all they’ve taken from me.

Anger grips me as tight as a boa constrictor and my chest is heavy, filled with despair I’m struggling to keep in. If I start screaming, I’m worried I’ll never be able stop.

“Kelsey, please.” Jackson’s voice is the only thing that breaks through the jumble of thoughts racing through my head.

My breathing comes in quick, shallow breaths, my chest rising and falling unevenly. Finally, I let out a heavy, trembling sigh and pull the car off to the side of the road, shifting it into park.

Jackson moves his hand away, and the moment it’s gone, I completely lose it.

A scream tears itself loose from my throat as my hands curl into fists and pound the steering wheel with such force it’s a miracle the leather doesn’t burst at the seams from the impact.

Jackson doesn’t try to stop me.

I continue until my fingers are throbbing and already starting to bruise, until my face is wet with tears and my chest is shaking with sobs I can’t hold in any longer.

My foster brother—the boy who always looked out for me, the boy I left behind—is dead.

I can’t keep my hands lifted any longer. They hit the wheel one last time, then fall to my lap, filled with sharp, shooting pain that radiates into my wrists. I deserve far worse. Leaning forward until my forehead touches the wheel, tears continue to stream down my face. My nose is stuffed and running, making me sniffle every five seconds.

“I’m sorry, Kelsey.” Jackson’s voice barely reaches me now, and I don’t respond.

I jump when his hand touches my knee, straightening and turning my face to look at him. “I did this,” I cry softly. “He’s dead because I wanted to be in his life. He’s dead because of me.”

He frowns. “You didn’t do anything, Red. This isnotyour fault. I know you don’t believe that right now, and it’s okay.”

I shake my head. “It’s not. He’s dead. After everything we survived together, he’s gone and I can’t do anything to bring him back.” I’m spewing nonsense at this point, but I can’t stop it. The moment my words cut off, I’m crying again.

Never in my twenty-six years on this earth—fae or otherwise—did I think I would be falling apart in front of Jackson Hawthorne on the side of the road, but here we are.

Jackson sighs. “Come here.” Without hesitation, he unbuckles my seatbelt and pulls me across the center console and into his lap.

I don’t try to stop him and I don’t pull away. In fact, I bury my face in his neck and grip the front of his shirt so tight in my hands, there will likely be permanent wrinkles in the light gray cotton. Especially considering this is the second time I’ve done this today.

---