The Twins & Me: Summer Vacation

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Ollie tears himself away from me so fast it almost hurts; Arlo flips me beneath him, getting between me and Bastian's gaze.

Buck-ass naked, Ollie crosses the room and before Bastian even can react, pulls him inside and slams the door.

Arlo's off me next, throwing the sheets to cover me as he grabs his underwear from the floor.

"What—" Bastian begins, completely dumbstruck and eyes still on me; my flustered face, wild hair, wide eyes that can only stare back at him.

With a ferocity I didn't know he had, Arlo shoves Bastian's face to the side, breaking eye contact with me. "What the fuck are you doing in here?"

Ollie's by his suitcase, digging out a pair of sweatpants to pull on.

"Mom picked you guys up something when she was out shopping, wanted me to give it to you," Bastian says dumbly, looking between the twins. He tosses the Gucci bag at Arlo's feet.

Ollie tugs on his sweatpants and points at me. "You stay right there."

As if I even have the ability right now to move—a cold fear is spreading through me, flushing away any trace of heat.

Bastian is here. Saw both of them—the three of us—together.

"I knew you were fucked up, but this—" Bastian begins, but Ollie jumps in front of him and grabs his face.

"You say one more word and I'll rip your fucking tongue out."

I sit up slowly, hands shaking as I bring the sheet up over my bare chest. Goosebumps erupt over my arms where they were just warmed by the boys' skin.

Bastian manages to shove Ollie away. "What is this?" he demands. He looks right at me. "What are they doing to you?"

There's something to his voice, an edge, something that someone could mistake for concern.

Arlo plants himself between us, blocks my view of Bastian. "Don't you look at her like that. Talk to her like you haven't made this hell for her since you met."

"Don't act so shocked, either," Ollie cuts in. "You're a clever little boy—I'm sure you've figured out by now we've never lived by any standard rules of normal."

The twins have been fighting together since day one—from their father abandoning them to their mother abusing them. They were doomed to this twisted kind of love before they knew what snuck up on them.

"You're right," Bastian says. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised—you two perverts wanting to drag someone else down into your game of The-World-Is-Out-To-Get-Me."

My knees tremble as I slip out of the bed. Bastian and Ollie are staring down each other, chests heaving.

"No one dragged me down anywhere," I say in a voice barely above a whisper. It's all I can manage.

Bastian's grey eyes wander the length of me. "So you like whoring yourself out to men?"

Bastian's head whips back when Ollie's fist meets his cheek; the thud seems to reverberate through the room. It's so fast and blunt I can't even be sure it happened. He stumbles back onto the hardwood and stays there.

Arlo rushes to grab Ollie's arm before he can land another blow, and Bastian spits a glob of blood out onto the floor from his teeth cutting the inside of his cheek. He laughs. It's harsh and deranged.

I step forward, hugging the sheets tighter. "You don't understand," I say, cutting through his laugh.

Bastian looks up at me with hard eyes.