Twisted Hate: An Enemies with Benefits Romance

Josh: Tonight, midnight.
We’d agreed to keep our communications short, to the point, and vague
enough that if anyone saw them, we could explain them away with a creative
excuse. His text met all three criteria, but still.
What happened to a good old-fashioned hey, how are you first?
Me: Can’t. I’m busy.
Josh: Too busy for an orgasm?
Me: Your fragile ego can’t take a postponement? If that’s the case, this
isn’t going to work…
For once, Josh ignored the bait.
Josh: Tomorrow, 10pm. My place.
Josh: P.S. You’re going to pay for the fragile ego comment…
My breath hitched, and I was in the middle of typing out a reply when I
heard my name, loud and clear, over the pounding music.
“Jules.”
I froze, ice trickling through my veins at the sound of that voice.
It couldn’t be him. I was in D.C. How could he have possibly found me,
in this club on this night?
My mind was playing tricks on me. It had to be.
But when I raised my head, my eyes confirmed what my brain
desperately wanted to deny.
Light brown hair. Blue eyes. Cleft chin.
No. Panic clawed up my throat, rendering me mute.
“Hey, J.” Max smiled, the sight more menacing than reassuring. “Long
time no see.”

---

21

---

JULES
“W
HAT
…
YOU
…” M
Y
ABILITY
TO
FORM
A
COHERENT
SENTENCE
DIED
AN
undignified death as I stared at my ex-boyfriend.
He was here. In D.C. Standing less than two feet away and wearing an
alarmingly calm expression. 
“Surprise.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his
heels. His pants were more faded than he typically liked, his shirt more
wrinkled. His face had lost the fullness of youth and taken on a gaunter
shape. 
Other than that, he was the same Max.
Handsome, charming, manipulative as hell.
Some people were capable of change, but Max was as set in his ways as
concrete. If he was here, he wanted something from me, and he wouldn’t
leave until he got it.
“Jules Miller, speechless. Never thought I’d see the day.” His chuckle set
off a dozen alarm bells in my mind. “Or should I say, Jules Ambrose? Nice
name change, though I’m surprised you didn’t change it all the way.”
My muscles turned rigid.
“It was a legal name change.” I’d changed it after I moved to Maryland,
and given I’d only been eighteen at the time with no mortgage, no credit
cards, and no debts, it didn’t take long to erase Jules Miller and replace her
with Jules Ambrose.
Perhaps I should’ve changed my first name too, but I loved the name
Jules, and I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of my old identity completely. 
“One of the few legal things you did,” Max joked, but the words lacked
humor.

---

The club’s energy, so exhilarating minutes ago, morphed into something
more sinister, like it was one discordant beat away from exploding into
chaos. Walls of sound and body heat pressed against me, trapping me in an
invisible cage.
Max was one of the few people who knew about my past. One tiny push,
and he could topple my world like it was a Jenga tower. 
“You’re supposed to be…” Once again, I grasped for words that never
came. 
“In Ohio?” Max’s smile hardened. “Yeah. We have a lot to talk about.”
He flicked a glance around us, but everyone was too busy battling for the
bartender’s attention to pay us much mind. Nevertheless, he angled his head
toward a dark corner of the club. “Over there.” 
I followed him to a quiet hallway near the back exit. It was only steps
away from the main club, but it was so dark and hushed it might as well be
another world.
I tucked my phone back into my purse, Josh temporarily forgotten, and
wiped my palms against my dress.
If I were smart, I would run and never look back, but Max had already
tracked me down. Running would only delay the inevitable.
“I’m hurt you didn’t answer my texts,” Max said, never losing his affable
expression. “With our history, I expected at least a reply.”
“I have nothing to say to you.” I kept my voice as even as possible
despite the shake in my hand. “How did you even find me? How did you get
my number?” 
He tsked. “Those aren’t the right questions. Ask me why I haven’t
reached out until now. Ask where I’ve been the past seven years.” When I
didn’t, his face darkened. “Ask me.”
A sick feeling rose in my stomach. “Where have you been the past seven
years?” 
“Jail, Jules.” His smile didn’t reach the cold, flat plains of his eyes. “I was
in jail for what you did. I only got out a few months ago.”
“That’s not possible.” Disbelief constricted my throat. “We got away.”
“You got away. You ran off to Maryland and created a perfect little life
for yourself with the money we stole.” A shadow of a snarl rose on Max’s
mouth before his expression smoothed again. “You left with no warning and
left me to deal with the mess you made.”
I bit back a stinging retort. I didn’t want to provoke him until I figured

---

out what he wanted, but while it was true I’d run off without leaving him so
much as a note, we’d hatched the idea to steal from Alastair together. Max
was the one who got greedy and deviated from the plan.