Page 36 of Twice as Twisted

“Know what you want?” she asks. “Or you need another minute?”

“We know what we want,” Duke says, never taking his eyes from Mabel.

The pink-haired girl rolls her eyes. “Another weirdo with a little girl fetish,” she mutters to Mabel. “Want to take this one, Dahlia?”

I could tell her that Mabel is two years older than us, and her name is not Dahlia, but she’s not worth an explanation. Along with her work shirt, she’s wearing steel-toed boots and a black skirt with a buckled garter that bisects an hourglass tattoo on her thigh. Its placement reminds me of Harper’s tattoo, and I take a moment to relish the thought of wrecking this bitch until she never forgets her place again, just like I did Harper. That would teach her to show us the proper respect.

But right now, she’s nothing but a distraction from the girl I really want. A girl who deserves every bit of pain that’s coming her way. I’ll relish that more than anything I could do to her crass coworker.

A visible shudder rolls through Mabel, and she finally releases her white-knuckle grip and stumbles backwards. I step around the end of the counter, glance at the case of ice creams, and slide open a bin. I spit my sucker stem on the floor at her feet. I won’t be needing those anymore.

“Hey,” protests the tattooed bitch, but I ignore her. Like all of them, she’s a sniveling coward under the bravado and boasting. She won’t do anything. I’ll look into her later, like I do everyone Mabel has regular contact with, but I already know she’s nothing more than a mosquito—annoying as fuck, but ultimately harmless.

I slowly drag one finger through a newly opened tub of ice cream, scooping a narrow line through the untouched surface. “The only question is, are we eating here, or taking it to go?”

Duke steps in front of the door and flips the sign to closed.

I pop the ice cream in my mouth, sucking off my finger.

Mabel’s gaze flies from me, to Duke, and back. Her wide-set eyes are round as saucers, and I can see her pulse racing in the side of her throat. I want to feel it under my thumb.

“Don’t,” she whispers, her lower lip quivering. “Please.”

“I always appreciated that about you,” I say, dropping my hand. “You Darlings never forget your manners.”

Ignoring me, she pivots to her coworker. “Will you go get us coffee?”

“Now?” the girl asks incredulously. Mabel doesn’t drink coffee, and from the look on her coworker’s face, this is a revelation for her too.

“I—I know them from back home.”

Despite the stammer, I admire how well she’s holding it together, all things considered. I expected her to dive out the window five minutes ago. The fact that she hasn’t, and that she wants to be alone with us, tells me two things. One, that some part of her still loves us despite what we did to her, and two,that she’s smart enough to know we’d find her eventually, and she’s ready for us. But then, I know better than to underestimate Mabel Darling. She’s the one girl who has ever consistently impressed me. That’s why we’re here.

“You sure about that?” her coworker asks.

Mabel nods. “I can handle them. Don’t worry about me.”

“Yeah,” Duke says. “We’re not here for nefarious purposes. We just want to have a reunion with our girlfriend. It’s been too long. Hasn’t it, little fairy?”

“It has been a long time,” Mabel agrees, cutting her eyes toward her coworker and making an approximation of a smile with her mouth, as if she’s never done it before.

“If you’re sure,” her coworker mutters, edging past me like she can’t bear the thought of getting within arm’s reach.

“Come back soon,” Mabel calls. “But not too soon.”

The sound that comes out of her is akin to one an alien might make when attempting to mimic human laughter for the first time.

That piques my interest. Mabel was always real above all else. She doesn’t do artifice. She always said she didn’t see the point. I can’t be certain, but I think she’s doing it now to protect the rude girl from us. But that doesn’t make sense. Mabel may not be as detached as I am, but she’s not the type to protect a stranger or martyr herself for an innocent bystander. In fact, the only person I’ve ever seen her protect is her brother.

That indicates another emotional connection here. Mabel doesn’t do friends, she doesn’t have a roommate at school, and I’ve been monitoring her online activity long enough to know that she isn’t in regular contact with anyone. It unsettles me that she made a connection without my knowledge, even more so when I take into account that an intense emotional bond formed over such a short period of time points to something more intimate in nature, possibly sexual. I never knew Mabel tohave that kind of interest in anyone, male or female, but then, her ability to surprise me is yet another reason I’m standing here now.

The door closes behind her friend, and for one taut second, no one moves.

“Coffee?” I ask, raising a brow at Mabel.

Without a word, she spins on her heel and runs. My predatory instinct snaps into place, taking the driver’s seat, and I spring after her. Her little white shoes flash in front of me like a beacon for me to follow down the tiny hallway behind the counter. Her narrow, boyish figure slips through a door, but we’re close on her heel.

The heavy door bangs shut behind the three of us, and I suck in a breath of the frigid air. The small freezer is lined with large tubs of ice cream. A freestanding shelf sits in the middle, behind which Mabel cowers like a cornered animal.

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