Page 4 of Chasing After You (Twisted Desires #3)

Josh

Present Day

Today was the day.

I would ask for help today and brave my best friend’s boyfriends. Yes, one best friend, two boyfriends. I still wasn’t used to that.

God, they were terrifying.

It must’ve been one of those opposites-attract relationships, because Oliver was the furthest thing from terrifying. I wasn’t the best at describing people, but I was good at comparing them to dog breeds, which I guess is only helpful if you know dog breeds…

Oliver was like a Miniature Poodle.

His twin boyfriends were like Doberman Pinschers. Specifically, Doberman Pinschers with those spiky collars.

I, on the other hand, was a Corgi. A very large Corgi.

Anyway, today I needed to ask said Doberman Pinschers for help, which I’d been trying to do for the past four months but had kept chickening out.

Today, though, was different. I’d rehearsed the conversation in the shower, in the mirror, during my morning walk, and whenever the cafe had been slow.

I clutched the straps of my backpack tighter as I approached their house, a secluded, modern mansion on the outskirts of town.

My heart was hammering in my chest. But what was the worst that could happen? It was either this or going entirely off the grid, leaving my life behind to once again run from my past.

Before I could lose my nerve and bolt, the door opened.

Hudson stood there, barefoot and wearing joggers and a fitted black T-shirt that accentuated his swimmer’s physique.

He looked me up and down, expression unreadable.

I always got the feeling that they weren’t quite human.

Like maybe they were an elite alien race that saw humans as the scum on their shoes.

“Hey, Josh,” he said.

I nodded, then realized nodding wasn’t enough and added, “Hey.”

There was a pause—a very long one.

“You here to see Oliver?”

“Yes. I mean—no. Well, kind of. I actually… uh.” I swallowed. “I wanted to ask you guys something.”

His eyebrows lifted slightly, not exactly unkindly, but still like he was trying to gauge my worth. “Alright. Come in.”

I stepped inside, immediately hit by the scent of whatever expensive candle Oliver probably insisted on lighting.

Hayes was on the couch, one arm tossed over the back like he belonged in a magazine spread.

One time, I had asked Oliver if they were models, but he’d just laughed and shook his head.

You know what…? Maybe they weren’t Dobermans.

They were more like jaguars than anything.

Hayes’s eyes flicked toward me, dark and sharp.

“Josh,” he said with a smile that was not not a threat.

“Hi,” I squeaked, giving a little awkward wave.

Oliver popped out from the kitchen, curly brown hair a bit damp, his face lighting up when he saw me.

“Josh! What are you doing here?” The ease in his voice calmed me a little.

He bounced over and hugged me, his arms soft and warm, like emotional bubble wrap.

“Is everything okay? I thought you were avoiding this place,” he grinned conspiratorially.

I clocked the twins’ threatening expressions and took a step back from my friend.

Taking a deep breath, I said, “I… need to ask you guys for help. Something kind of big. And I’m not sure if it’s something you can help with or not, but…

I felt like if anyone could help, it’d be you two.

I can’t explain why I feel that way, but I do, and I’m running out of options here. ”

Hudson crossed his arms, and Hayes leaned forward, both suddenly very alert in that predator-who-hears-a-twig-snap kind of way. I steeled myself.

“Go on,” Hayes drawled. “We’re listening.”

When I went to speak, Oliver cut in. “Josh, you’re kinda scaring me. What’s going on?”

I gave him a light pat on his shoulder. “Um… So….”

Hudson rolled his eyes. “Get on with it. The longer you’re here, the longer I have to wait to get my dick wet.” Oliver’s cheeks turned cherry red while my eyes widened. I knew they fucked, but wow. That was… brazen.

Oliver huffed, “Just ignore him, Josh.” He led me over to the couch and sat down. Taking a seat as well, I debated in my head on how to start.

“Okay. Uh…”

Hayes gave an exasperated sigh. “Did Oliver explain to you what we do for work?”

“I did not!” my friend insisted.

I shook my head. “I think he may have mentioned construction when you guys first got together, but I’m not sure if I’m remembering that right. Wait, are you… like… mafia?”

Hudson laughed, “Not quite. To either.”

“What do you need help with? An ex-girlfriend? Writing a resume?” Hayes smirked.

Oliver narrowed his eyes at them both before turning to face me fully. “Josh, whatever it is, we can help. I’m saying it could be literally anything. Anything ,” he stressed. “Did you do something bad…?” He asked hesitantly, reaching out to hold my hand.

I shook my head again. Then nodded. Then shook my head again.

Hayes took pity on me. “If you need help covering up a crime, we can do that.”

“No, no. Well, I did something bad a long time ago, but I don’t really need help with that. But I guess it’s sorta related.”

“Spit it out already,” Hudson groaned.

“Okay, so my ex-adoptive little brother keeps finding my phone number no matter how many times I change it, and I’m worried he might know where I am, but I’m not for sure on that, and—” I word-vomited it out.

“Basically, I had to leave him a long time ago and cut contact because of something bad I did, and I’m scared he’s going to find me for, like… revenge.”

Oliver’s eyebrows rose in shock as he let out a small gasp. “Josh… I didn’t know you were adopted. Or, aren’t… anymore?”

I played with my earlobe, rolling it between my thumb and pointer finger—a nervous habit I had from childhood. “I’m sorry for hiding it from you,” I said dejectedly. “But, that’s kind of the point. I changed my last name and everything.”

Hudson hummed, looking at me with a calculating gaze. “Alright. So, you’ve been in hiding from your old family.”

“Just my little brother. Victoria—she’s his mom—she’s always known where I went and everything. But I promised her I’d never get in touch with Dori—sorry, Dorian—again.”

Oliver blinked, mouth slightly open, clearly trying to process everything at once. His grip on my hand tightened. “Wait, so… your mom’s okay with you disappearing from their life?”

I nodded slowly. “It wasn’t… she’s not my mom,” I murmured.

“Even if the adoption hadn’t been dissolved, she was never a mom to me.

Or to Dorian, really.” I laughed sadly, the sound brittle in the air.

“But she’s the one who helped me leave after…

after some stuff went wrong. She’s never reached out since then, but she at least knows my new last name and who I went to live with and where. ”

Hayes looked at Hudson, some silent message passing between them that I absolutely didn’t understand, but that made my stomach drop. The look predators give each other before deciding which one gets to chase the rabbit.

Hudson cracked his knuckles. “How long has he been tracking you?”

I shrugged, my shoulders curling inward.

“I don’t really know. I think… years, maybe.

It’s been like eight since I left. But he started making contact again about four months ago.

At first, it was just weird wrong-number texts.

Then there were calls. Now it’s voicemails.

And the last one was just… breathing. Like he was standing too close to the phone… It was like horror movie level.”

Oliver’s face twisted in sympathy. “Josh, why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

I gave a helpless shrug. “Because this all sounds insane? Because I didn’t want you to worry. You already had so much going on… And also because your boyfriends scare me and look like they were engineered in a lab to kill people?”

Hudson gave a low chuckle at that, not entirely denying it.

Hayes rubbed a hand over his mouth, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “You said he might know where you are now. Why do you think that?”

I pulled my phone from my backpack, unlocking it with shaking hands and flipping to my voicemails. “Oh, uh… because he said this,” I murmured, then hit play.

Dorian’s voice filled the air.

“You know, I saw someone who looked just like you outside that coffee shop on Main. You still put too much sugar in your drinks.” The message ended in a long silence, then a soft laugh. “It won’t be long now, I promise.”

Oliver looked horrified. Hayes sat straighter, and Hudson looked me up and down. I suddenly felt way too big in the space, like an elephant in a… what was it? A tea shop?

“Alright,” Hayes said, standing up. “Here’s what’s going to happen.”

Oliver shot to his feet. “Hayes—”

“ Pet ,” Hayes said, firm but not unkind, effectively silencing Oliver, before turning to me. “You were right to come to us. You’re annoying, but Oliver’s attached to you, so…” He shrugged.

Hudson continued, “We’ll help. Not for you. For Oliver. Got it?”

I nodded quickly.

“You’re not staying at your place anymore,” Hudson added. “You’ll move in here. Today.”

“What?” I squawked.

“Today,” Hayes repeated. “We’ll handle the rest.”

Oliver looked between them and then at me. “I know they’re intense,” he said gently. “But they will keep you safe, Josh. I promise.” He then whispered low just to me, “If you’re not comfortable here, though—”

“No, it’s okay. Thank you. I just didn’t expect that.” I stared at them all, heart racing.

Oliver gave me a soft smile. “Tell me if they do or say anything weird to you, okay? I know you don’t know Lane that well, but that would be another option. Greyson scares me… but I think Lane would probably keep you safe.”

I nodded, perplexed at the “probably” in that sentence.

Oliver paused, as if realizing something. He turned to look at Hudson. “What about… you know?”

Hudson grinned, his smile shark-like. “Oh, yeah.” He looked at me, eyes glinting with dark amusement. “We kill people.”

I choked, “E-excuse me?”

“Yep, quite a lot of people. Here. Frequently. You’ll be dead too if you ever snitch,” Hudson replied calmly.

“O-Oliver?” I asked. “That’s just a joke, right…?”

Oliver answered, “No…” The fuck? No? Was I having a stroke? “But they won’t hurt you, I promise. Just don’t tell anyone about it. And if it makes it better, it’s for money. They’re not like serial killers.”

My eye twitched. “I… I don’t know if that makes it better or not. Why are you being so nonchalant about this?”

“Because you’re my friend.”

Hayes called out from the hallway, “And you’ll remain his friend if you don’t make us kill you.”

“It’ll be okay, I promise,” Oliver soothed, glaring in the direction Hayes had gone. “But we should probably go to your place and get a bag packed, okay?”

“Okay…”

What in the actual fuck had I just gotten myself into?

Oliver gave my hand a reassuring squeeze like we weren’t all just brushing past the fact that his terrifyingly beautiful boyfriends were professional murderers. For money. Like it was a regular, everyday job. Like some people walk dogs, and they… just didn’t let people walk anymore.

“Josh?” Oliver said softly. “Breathe.”

I inhaled through my nose. Exhaled through my mouth. Tried not to vomit in the immaculate living room that smelled faintly of cedar and the stench of my confused fear.

Hayes reappeared, tossing a duffel bag at me. “This’ll hold you over until we get your stuff.”

“How do you already have a bag?” I croaked, unzipping the bag to find clothes, a few travel-size toiletries, some cash, and a phone charger.

“Everyone gets a go bag in this house. You never know.” He shrugged, as if discussing the weather. “But Oliver’s right. We should get your things. Any chance your ex-brother might be watching the place?”

“I-I don’t think so. I haven’t seen anything weird near my building. But he’s… clever. When we were kids, I always felt like he was smarter than me, even though he was four years younger. I just wish I knew exactly how long he’s been doing all this.” I buried my face in my hands.

“Okay, it’s okay,” Oliver comforted, gently prying my hands away. “We’ll go get your things. Hayes and Hudson will check things out, and I’ll help you pack. Then we can get drunk!”

“No” and “Absolutely not” were said in unison.

Oliver frowned at his boyfriends. “You don’t usually have an issue with me drinking.”

Hayes replied, the corner of his mouth tipped upward, “That’s because you’re a slutty drunk.”

Oliver’s face flushed, and he dropped the topic, opting to instead lead us out to the car.

The ride to my apartment was mostly quiet, except for the occasional low conversation between the twins that I couldn’t decipher, like they were speaking in some kind of assassin dialect of English. Oliver kept a hand on my knee the whole way, grounding me.

When we arrived, Hayes didn’t even wait for me to unlock the door. He pulled a thin tool from somewhere inside his jacket— why did he have that? —and popped the lock like it was a regular, totally normal thing he did.

We filed in, and I tried not to seem anxious about people seeing my place for the first time.

It was a decent apartment. Small, but clean. I’d done my best to make it feel like a home. There were plants I hadn’t killed, soft blankets, some books, and weight-lifting equipment.

Hayes gave a nod of approval. “Better than I expected.”

Hudson was already checking the windows, the fire escape, and the closet. “We’ll sweep for bugs before you leave.”

“Bugs? I’ve never seen any.” Did they really think I’d have cockroaches and shit frolicking around in here?

Hayes let out a genuine laugh, surprising me. He shook his head and explained, “The guy could have set up cameras, audio—that sort of thing. Your apartment looks very clean.” He winked, making me flush in embarrassment.

Oliver went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. “Josh,” he admonished. “There’s only yogurt in here!”

“Yogurt is protein,” I mumbled, wanting to rush over and shut the fridge door. “I typically order stuff in.”

While Oliver started packing clothes into a tote, I stood in the center of the room, not moving.

It was surreal. Just a few hours ago, I was pacing in my bathroom, trying to hype myself up to ask for help.

Now I was moving in with murderers to run from my little brother.

I shuffled my feet, reminding myself to take deep breaths in and out.

“Hey,” Oliver said gently, stepping close. “We’re going to keep you safe.”

I nodded and offered him a wobbly smile.

But safe didn’t feel real anymore.

To be completely honest, I’d only just begun feeling almost safe after eight years of quiet.