Page 17 of Hitch
Still, I clutch my purse to my chest. I still can’t find my gun, even though I checked every drawer and shelf in the apartment, but Idohave a stun gun. It’s comforting, knowing it’s there.
After twenty minutes, the cornfields stretch up on either side of the road, and my muscles tighten instinctively, knowing that we’rehere.Just a couple more miles, and you’d be in Oakdale, my hometown. That first night, I had thought that we were running into random crop fields, but this entire time, it had been Duane’s territory. Back then, he was chasing me into his lair, and I didn’t even know it.
But now, I’mchoosingto go here.
It’s idiotic. But I can use the money, and there’s this hope inside me that he was telling the truth. That it was a Halloween prop. That he has no intention of killing me.
But logic rails inside of me too:You’re an idiot. A fucking idiot.
I text Todd quickly:You said you’re coming, right?
At least if Todd is at the farm, he’ll watch out for me. At least, Ihopehe will. He wasn’t much help when Duane choked me at the strip club yesterday.
But it’s not like you tried to stop it,my brain retorts.You even liked it.
I scowl at myself, and my phone vibrates.
Already here. See you soon,Todd responds. I let out a subtle breath of relief, then glance back up at the redheaded driver. If he knows ToddandDuane, then he must be higher up in their farming business.
Or maybe I’m screwed, and everyone knows everyone, except for me.
“What’s your name?” I ask.
“Braden,” he says, his tone clipped, like he’d rather not be answering.
“I’m Reggie,” I say impulsively, even though he didn’t ask. It’s like my brain thinks that if he knows my name, it’ll protect me somehow, but he doesn’t say a thing.
Clearly, he doesn’t care.
We drive up a gravel road, winding between the cornfields into a stretch of grass and oak trees. In the middle of the lawn stands a big house—three stories with who knows how many bedrooms—and a wraparound porch. From the front, you can see a few tall buildings behind it—a large, classic barn and two concrete buildings. I’m not sure how long Duane and Braden have been here, or why they left the south.
But Todd’s right. Everyone has secrets. I do. Braden does.
And Duane has the biggest secrets of us all.
Duane steps out of the front door, his flannel sleeves rolled up, his arms flexed like barrels, as if he’s ready to cut down a massive tree with his bare hands. Braden opens his truck door and jumps out.
I quickly run after him. “Thanks for the ride—”
“I’m tired of this shit,” Braden says, pointing a finger at Duane. “I told you. We don’t need any more people coming around here. No more new sellers.”
“Ain’t you the one who brought her here?” Duane chuckles.
“She was trying to hitch her way up to the farm. Who knows what kind of creep might’ve given her a ride?”
My cheeks redden. Duane picked me up six months ago and chased me through the fields like a creep. Duane, who must be thinking the same thing, smirks.
“We don’t need anyone else in our business,” Braden adds.
“She’s just a hookup,” Duane says, his eyes falling over my body, sending a low hum of electricity through my nervous system. “Nothing more.”
I don’tfeellike ‘nothing more.’ And I definitely don’t feel like ‘just a hookup.’
Braden’s hollow expression washes over me. He swivels back to Duane.
“You sure about that?” he mutters.
“She’s nothing you need to concern yourself with,” Duane says. “Go on. Let me handle it.”
