Twisted Hate: An Enemies with Benefits Romance

I didn’t want to do it. He was blackmailing me…

---

They pushed me when I tried to get away…
Is it the pussy? I remember it was pretty good, especially her first time
when she bled all over my cock. 
A fresh wave of rage swept through me, and I punched Max hard enough
that he collapsed onto the ground. His hands scrabbled against the floor as he
tried to crawl away, but there was nowhere for him to escape.
“Please.” He gasped out a wet, gurgling plea. “Stop. Please…”
I barely heard him.
It wasn’t just Jules. It was Michael and Alex and every patient I lost in
the ER. Every bottled-up hurt, disappointment, and frustration from the past
few years. I unleashed it all on Max until his pleas died off and his body
turned limp. 
My heart thundered with adrenaline. I should’ve done this sooner. This
was the outlet I needed.
I hauled my arm back for another blow, but firm hands closed around my
biceps and pulled me back. 
“Josh.” Alex’s voice splashed a cold bucket of water on the flames
consuming me. “That’s enough.”
“Get off me,” I bit out. I strained against his hold, desperate for another
fix. For more relief. “I’m not done.”
“Yes, you are. Keep going, and you’ll kill him.” Alex turned me around
without releasing my arms and pinned me with a glare. “If that’s what you
want, fine. But it’s not.”
“You don’t know that.” My ragged breaths echoed in the empty space.
The basement contained no furniture save for the chair, a table, an
industrial sink, and a fridge. I didn’t want to think about what activities Alex
usually conducted down here. Probably something similar to what I just did. 
“I know you’re not the type of person who wants another’s death on your
hands,” he said calmly. “You’re not a killer, Josh. Besides, look at him.
You’ve made your point.”
I stared at the unconscious heap on the ground. Max’s face was a
mangled mess of blood and pulp. Sticky dark liquid pooled around his body,
and if it weren’t for the faint rise and fall of his chest, I would’ve thought he
was already dead.
I did that. Me. 
Alex hadn’t laid a finger on him. 
My heart rate slowed the longer I stared at Max. The soft drip of the sink

---

in the corner reminded me of the drip of blood, and I was suddenly
hyperaware of the coppery liquid coating my face and clothes. 
I’d beaten him half to death. 
Bile rose in my throat.
I wrenched myself out of Alex’s grasp and stumbled to the sink, where I
dry heaved until my throat was raw and moisture burned my eyes.
I hadn’t eaten since before my shift, so nothing came out, but that didn’t
stop nausea from roiling my stomach.
What the fuck had I done?
Kidnapping. Assault and battery. Probably a dozen other crimes that
would end my career if anyone found out.
I started off wanting to make Max pay for what he did to Jules and ended
up using him as my human punching bag. 
Fuck.
I turned on the tap and splashed water on my face, hoping to wash off the
blood, but its stain remained even after the pinkish water ran clear in the steel
basin.
When I finally lifted my head, my skin numb from the chill of the water, I
saw Alex next to me. He leaned his hip against the counter with an
unreadable expression. “Feel better?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” I rubbed a hand over my damp face and glanced
at the still unconscious Max. My stomach lurched again. “What are we going
to do about him?”
“Don’t worry. He won’t go to the police.” Alex walked over to him and
nudged his prone form with disdain. “It’s more trouble than it’s worth.” 
True. Max was only a few months out of jail, and he’d already committed
aggravated assault and was involved in a conspiracy to commit grand
larceny. If the police looked into his background, he was fucked.
“And if he comes after us later?” I asked.
“Please. He’s a common thief trying to play in a league above his own.”
Alex sounded unimpressed. “Plus, if what he said was true, he has enough
problems to worry about without trying to take revenge on us. Whoever
wants your hideous painting will keep him busy.”
“It’s not hideous,” I growled. “It’s unusual, and it’s worth a lot of
money.”
I’d shopped the painting around after Jules’s confession. It was tainted
with bad memories, and like Max said, the people after it would come after

---

me if I held onto it. I was lucky they hadn’t already. I guess they didn’t trust
Max enough to finish the job Jules started.
The only way to get Max’s mysterious “friends” off my back and not
screw over the next owner was to sell it to someone no one would dare steal
from. 
I finally found a suitable buyer yesterday, and we were scheduled to sign
the contract in two days, after he returned from a business trip. 
I assumed whoever was tracking the piece would know I’d sold it, but
just in case they didn’t, the buyer promised to publicize the sale.
“Enough about the painting. Even if Max won’t call the police, we can’t
just leave him here.” If we did, he might very well die of blood loss, and Alex
was right. I wasn’t a murderer. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if
anyone died at my hands.
The urge to vomit returned. “He needs medical attention.”
Alex’s sigh contained multitudes of exasperation. “You and Ava. So
driven by your consciences. No wonder you’re siblings,” he muttered. “Fine.
I’ll send someone to take care of him.”
“Take care of him as in…” 
Another, deeper sigh. “As in medical attention, Josh. I’m not going to kill
him. I barely know him.”
“Right.” With Alex, it was always best to double check. 
At his suggestion, I rinsed off in the upstairs shower and changed into one
of his spare outfits while he took care of the situation.
By the time I emerged, Max was already gone and Alex sat in the living
room, scrolling through his phone.
“What the fuck? Do you have magical house elves or something?” I sank
next to him on the couch.
I felt better after the shower. Not good, but better, though images of
Max’s bloodied form would haunt me for a long while.
I swallowed the lump of guilt in my throat. 
“No. I have a highly competent, highly paid team.” Alex didn’t look up
from his phone. “Besides, you were in the shower for an hour. A geriatric
grandmother could’ve taken care of Max in that time.”
“Bullshit. I was in there ten minutes, tops.”
“That’s not what the clock says.”
I glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner. He was right. It’d been
over an hour since I jumped into the shower.

---

I mentally added loss of time awareness to the long list of shit I needed to
worry about.
“I’m going crazy.” I closed my eyes and pressed a fist to my forehead.
“What the fuck is happening to me?”
I felt like a passenger who didn’t know their train had flown off the rails
until they looked out the window and saw the ground rushing toward them.
One minute, I lived a charmed life—popular and accomplished, with a
great family and great friends. The next, it all burst into flames until only
ashes were left.
“If it’s about Max, don’t feel too bad. He’s a piece of shit, and he had it
coming. But he’ll survive.” Alex slid a glance in my direction. “You never
answered my question earlier. Do you feel better?”
I hated to admit it, but… “Yeah.”
The dark cloud that had stalked me for two years was still present, but it
was lighter. More manageable.
“Good. Now explain Jules to me.”
“Jesus Christ.” I cracked my eyes open and glared at Alex. Renewed
tension zipped down my spine and turned my muscles into stone. “There’s
nothing to explain, but if you’re curious, she’s five-six with red hair, hazel
eyes—”
“You almost beat a man to death because he hurt her,” Alex said. “Don’t
insult me by pretending she doesn’t mean anything to you.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, regretting, not for the first time, my
eighteen-year-old self’s decision to befriend the man sitting next to me.
Still, after keeping my relationship—my former relationship—with Jules
secret for so long, it would be nice to talk about it with someone…even if
said someone had the emotional range of a teaspoon.
“You promise not to tell Ava?” I wasn’t ready for that conversation yet. 
“I promise not to bring it up, but if she asks me about it directly, I’ll tell
her the truth.” Alex lifted his shoulder in a shrug. “Sorry.”
I’ve never heard anyone sound less sorry in my life. But the chances of
Ava asking about me and Jules were low; she still thought we hated each
other. 
After a long moment of deliberation, I explained the whole saga to Alex,
starting with my and Jules’s clinic truce and ending with her visit to the ER.
When I finished, the pressure had resettled in my chest, and Alex stared at
me with an uncharacteristic glint of disbelief in his eyes.

---

“What?”
“Ninety-nine percent of people in this world are idiots,” he said. “I regret
to inform you that you’re one of them.”
My brows snapped together. “I’m convinced you don’t actually want to
be my friend again.” 
Where was the ass kissing? The flattery? He gave up his company and
flew to fucking London for Ava, but I couldn’t get so much as a sympathetic