Twisted Hate: An Enemies with Benefits Romance

Can’t breathe can’t breathe cantbreathecantbreathe…
Another, more impatient burst of music sliced through the silence.
Christian was probably monitoring the situation via the camera and
wondering why I hadn’t made my next move yet. 
I sucked in a shallow lungful of air.
I’d come this far. There was no backing out now.
“Actually,” I said. “You might want to check your phone. See if that
video is still there. Things disappear in cyberspace all the time.” 
Beads of sweat dotted my forehead as Max stared at me. I could
practically see him piecing the puzzle together—my unannounced arrival, the
way I’d stretched out our conversation, why I was suddenly so willing to talk
back. 
Once it clicked, he jabbed at his phone, his eyes moving back and forth

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over the screen with frenzied speed.
Air flowed to my lungs again when he snarled.
It was gone. From his phone, at least.
Max didn’t say a word as he pushed past me toward his laptop. Each
frantic tap on the keyboard sounded like a gunshot in the silence.
I inched toward the door but kept my eye on him. His reaction would tell
me everything—whether Christian had destroyed every copy, or whether he
had another copy of the video stashed somewhere. 
When Max finally looked up, his features contorted into a mask of rage,
my knees weakened with relief. 
After years of the tape hanging over my head, it was finally gone.
I was home free.
“What did you do?” he hissed.
“I took back what belonged to me. Control over my body.” A thick
pressure inside me eased, so suddenly and completely I would’ve floated off
the ground had I not been terrified any movement would shatter this delicate
dream. The pressure had been a part of me for so long I hadn’t realized it was
there until it was gone. “I also want the painting back. It doesn’t belong to
you or your friends.” 
Max moved so fast I didn’t get a chance to blink before his hand closed
around my wrist in a crushing grip. A small cry fell out at the pain lancing up
my arm. 
“You fucking bitch—” He only got half his sentence out before tattooed
hands yanked him off me and tossed him aside like he was nothing more than
a rag doll. 
Kage.
Somehow, he’d entered the room without either of us noticing.
“Hands off the lady,” Kage growled.
Max sputtered in shock as he took in the other man’s bulky, six-foot-two
frame. “Who the fuck are you?”
Kage crossed his arms over his chest. He didn’t answer.
“The painting, Max.” My wrist still throbbed from where he’d grabbed
me, but I ignored it. “Where is it?” 
His jaw flexed with anger, but he wasn’t dumb enough to test Kage’s
capability for violence. “The closet,” he ground out. “In the portfolio bag.” 
I glanced at Kage, who nodded. He kept an eye on Max while I retrieved
the bag from the closet and unzipped it. The painting was nestled inside the

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black material, safe and sound and hideous as ever.
Thank God.
“This isn’t over,” Max said as I walked to the door. He’d wrestled his
outward fury under control, but his eyes shone with anger and panic. I
assumed his “friends” wouldn’t be too happy about him losing the painting.
“You think you solved all your problems just because you got rid of the tape
and took back the painting? You’re still a liar and a whore. Eventually, your
boyfriend will figure it out and toss you aside the way everyone does. The
way I’d planned to do before you snuck off in the middle of the night like a
coward.” 
I stopped in the doorway. Max was pushing every button he could find.
Some of it I brushed off; others peeled the scabs off healing wounds until
they bled again. 
Sweat dampened my palms at the prospect of Josh finding out what
happened.
“Maybe I’ll nudge the process along. Give the good doctor a heads up on
who, exactly, broke into his house. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the truth.” The
poison from Max’s words dripped into my veins.
Kage’s low growl rumbled through the air. He stepped toward the other
man, but I held out my arm to stop him.
This wasn’t his fight. 
“Actually, Max it is over.” The bag strap slipped against my palms. “You
don’t have the tape. You don’t have evidence of anything that happened in
Ohio. If you did, you would’ve used it already. And you can try to tell Josh,
but he’s not going to believe you over me. You have nothing.” 
Max paled. He curled his hands into fists, his chest rising and falling with
shallow breaths.
Without the armor of blackmail, he looked small. Weak, like the Wizard
of Oz after the curtain was pulled back. 
A strange, unexpected seed of sympathy sprouted in my stomach. For all
the terrible things he’d done, Max had saved me when my mom kicked me
out. Granted, he’d pulled me into a life I was less than proud of, but without
him, I might’ve ended up homeless. 
I would still cut his balls off if I had the chance, but he was right. I did
owe him. Not money or my body, but some acknowledgment of our shared
history that would allow me to walk away for good with a clear conscience.
“I’m sorry you spent all those years in jail,” I said. “Seven years is a long

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time, and I understand why you’re angry. But you’re out now, and it’s a
chance for a fresh start. Don’t get sucked into your old life any more than you
already have.” I swallowed hard. “It’s easy to get caught up in old habits and
hurts, but you’ll never be happy chasing things that no longer exist. It’s time
to move on from the past. I did.” 
I walked out, leaving Max red-faced and alone in his hotel room.
My mind tumbled with a thousand thoughts as Kage and I rode the
elevator down to the lobby.