Page 36 of Hitch
My little blackmailer was here, trying to find herself some more evidence. But I was waiting for her.
I should’ve killed her, but I didn’t. It would’ve been the smart thing to do.
So why didn’t I?
I rub my hand over the crotch of my jeans. My dick is sore and raw. There hasn’t been a day that’s gone by since I first fucked her mouth in the glory hole that I haven’t come with her on my mind. That was back when I didn’t know her name. She was just Hitch.MyHitch. My motherfucking problem.
I head down to the spore houses. The flow hood hums in the air. Typically, this is Braden’s work, but he’s out of town, so it’s up to me to take care of it. I get to work, putting on my gloves and checking the petri dishes to see how the mycelium is growing.
Eventually, I check the substrate bags, harvesting one of the flushes, but no matter how much I focus on work—on business, on power, on what truly fucking matters to me—her voice trickles into my mind like an annoying country song that you can’t get rid of.
Sometimes, I imagine two men fucking me at once. That I’m nothing more than their plaything, you know?
And then I see it: a finger sticking out of one of the plastic bags, like it’s a treasure for someone to find. Who put it there?
Braden is too much of a chicken shit to deal with dead bodies; at least, it’s been that way since his little crush got herself into trouble. Todd has no reason to be back here. He stays in the dehydration rooms, and on top of that, he’s a businessman. He wouldn’t want his product to be contaminated with rotting human flesh.
Which leaves my Hitch.
Reggie.
It would explain why she was here. Why she was trespassing. Why she had that look of death on her face when I first cornered her with the knife.
She’s just another fucking problem.
For the rest of the night, I carry on like usual. I bring the blue-bruised mushrooms over to the dehydrators, but my mind keeps wandering to Reggie lying on her back, letting me fuck her as I cut her throat.
I was an inch away from slitting her throat, and she spread her legs wider, letting me take more of her. Trusting me with her life. Giving me that power over her.
Even if she is planning on framing me for murder or something similar with that finger, she hadn’t said anything yet. In fact, all she did was admit that she wanted me to fuck her again.
When will I see you again?she had asked.
I shake my head, then go back to the mushrooms lying flat on the trays. Then I slide them into the dehydration machines.
Reggie is up my ass with framing and blackmail, and all I can think about is fucking her exactly how she wants.
It makes me crazy thinking of another man having his hands on her, but damn it, it’s like a need too. A need to see her get exactly what she wants, even if I have to kill the man afterward.
Once the machines are on, I rip off my gloves and storm out of the building. The night air is cool, but I’m still unsettled. I have to do this, whether I like it or not.
I dial Todd before I can think twice about it.
The phone rings, and I calm myself with the thought that she can’t fuck me over after this. Not when I’ve done this much for her.
“Yeah?” Todd answers.
“Is Reggie on the schedule for tomorrow?” I ask.
“You know her schedule. Why are you really calling?”
I exhale slowly, then grab my knife, carving a divot into the wooden fence, separating us from the cornfields.
“Are you working tomorrow?” I ask.
I don’t like the idea ofanyonetouching my woman, but if there’s a man that knows when business is business, it’s Todd. I can respect him for that.
“What’s up?” he asks.
