Page 14 of Hitch
Duane is dripping in danger, and yet, my stupid self wants him even more.
But I don’t have to give in yet.
“How do I know this isn’t a trick to get me alone so that you can kill me?” I ask, internally begging him to put my fears to rest. “You just want me to trust you. Then you’re going to put me in the back of the truck like that other girl—”
He lurches from his seat, grabbing my throat tight. Blood rushes to my temples as I grab his hands, trying to pull him away, but he doesn’t budge. His eyes laser into me, daring me to move. I gulp, a whimper escaping my lips. A cackle of male laughter erupts from the bar. No one is paying attention.
No one is coming to help me.
“If I wanted to kill you, I could’ve done it by now. Couldn’t I, Hitch?” he says, bringing me closer to him. Pressure pools in my cheeks, my skin hot as our faces near each other. His eyes flicker down to my legs, spread across his lap, straddling him.
He loosens his pressure on my throat. My lungs swell, but he keeps his hand on me, controlling my life and death.
“Something tells me you like the risk, Hitch,” he murmurs, and my hips grind forward, riding on his jeans.
Because he’s right. Even that night, when I held a gun to his head, he could’ve overpowered me, but heletme run. He wanted me to get away.
It’s the exact reason I feel something—whateverthisis—with him.
He lets go, leaving my neck empty. His arms spread across the back of the bench again as if nothing happened. There are only a few customers and one stripper up at the bar. Everyone else is in the VIP room, including Todd and the bouncers.
“Why do you keep calling me ‘Hitch’?” I ask.
“You hitched a ride with me, didn’t you?” Duane chuckles. “You could say you’ve been living easy all this time, but it’s not the same for me, Reggie. You’re a hitch in my plans, causing all kinds of trouble for me. Luckily, Ilikefixing problems.”
I fixate on his lips, pale and pink, his smile so wide, it’s like he’s pulling his expression with strings, forcing himself into a mask of normalcy.
Find his weaknesses.
Todd’s voice echoes in my mind. I think of everything Todd said about making Duane into an endless cash supply. Duane didn’t even hesitate with the thousand dollars, and I know he had more in his wallet. I can get a car for my mom in two or three weeks of work. I can even get a nice one for her.Andfor me.
But this isn’t about that.
Everyone’s got secrets, right?Todd had said.
But my secret is that Iwantto see Duane again. I want the recklessneedhe had for me. How hemademe take him.
“All right,” I say. I offer my hand. “Deal.”
The monster shakes my hand. “You can call me ‘Duane,’” he says.
“Secret,” I say.
His lips curl. “I think I’ll call you ‘Hitch.’”
His fingers crunch around mine and I force myself to smile, an uneasiness gripping my stomach like a stress ball. But for some reason, I want to do this. Whatever this is.
As we’re exchanging numbers and making a plan for tomorrow, a hand lands on my shoulder, jerking me to the side. The Mortician scowls at me, his breath heavy with mustard and beer.
“What’s taking you so long?” he asks. “This is a lap dance bench, not a debate hall. Finish up already.”
His nails dig into my shoulder, and I cringe in response. There are a lot of good things about the Mortician: he’s cute, he can make me come, and he pays well. Still, putting up with his random drunk aggression can be annoying.
“I’m almost done, baby,” I whisper. “Why don’t you—”
He smacks my ass so hard I jump.
“What the hell?” I shout.
