Page 64 of Hitch
Besides… Duane wouldn’t like it.
I pull back from the Mortician.
“How’ve you been?” I ask. He wraps his arms around my lower back. I suck in my stomach and drift away. The Mortician is putting another nail in his coffin, touching me like that. For his sake, I hope Duane isn’t watching.
“Missing you,” the Mortician says. He winks at me. “You got time to play or—” he scans the club, probably checking to make sure Duane isn’t in the building, “—are you too busy for an old friend?”
Hesitation locks in my chest. Is this a mistake?
“Let’s pause,” I say. I glance at the exit, then back to the Mortician. “I can’t today. Maybe next time.”
The Mortician’s lips pull into a thin line, his brow furrowing.
“I drove two hours to be here,” he says. “And you’re going to tell me I don’t even get a dance?”
I huff in annoyance. We both know that he wants more than just a dance.
“Come on,” I say. I point to the other strippers sitting in the bottle service booths. “Have you tried them? Maybe they can give you what you want—”
“Oh, fuck you, Secret,” he snaps. He punches the counter. “You find some bigger wallet and think you can forget about the customers who made you?Imade you! And you’re suddenly better than me?” He bares his teeth. “Keep treating people like that and you’re going to end up in a fucking hole.”
I snap my teeth together, sneering at him, but I’m so shaken by his words that I can’t do anything else. It’s like he completely switched. I didn’t know that this side of him existed until now.
And itscaresme.
“Get the fuck out,” I finally say, pointing at the exit.
“My pleasure,” he says, shoulder-checking me as he passes. The other strippers gape at us with wide-eyes.
From the DJ booth, Todd types something on his phone. I almost hope he’s texting Duane, but at the same time, I don’t want Duane to get involved. I know how Duane gets. And if he finds out that the Mortician eventouchedme, he’ll kill him.
And yet, I still yearn for Duane’s safety. Why is it that I feel safer with Duane than I do with the Mortician? The Mortician just handles dead bodies; there’s no reason to be scared of him. But there are plenty of reasons to be scared of Duane. Duane has killed people.
But the shift in the Mortician’s anger showed his true self. Like it didn’t matter what I said. I didn’t know he could get that violent.
With Duane, I’ve always known what he’s capable of. He made it clear from the first night we met.
Normally, I don’t ask the bouncers to escort me to my car, but today, once my shift is over, I ask one of them to walk me. But at the last second, Todd steps in, dismissing the bouncer.
“I’ve got this,” Todd says. Ice spreads across my shoulders as Todd walks beside me. “Is everything all right?”
I shiver as I look up at him. First, it was Braden, accusing me of blackmailing him and Duane. And then, the Mortician told me I was going to end up dead in a hole. Even though Todd accused me too, he’s still been the kindest to me, as if his questions were just his way of looking out for me. But even when I look at his soft eyes, I still don’t know if I can trust him.
Can I trust anyone?
“Seeing the Mortician freaked me out, I guess,” I say.
Todd nods, but he’s pensive, like he can see things I can’t.
“I worry about you, Secret,” he says. “You need to be careful.”
“Around the Mortician?”
“Not just the Mortician.” We both turn toward my car. “With—”
Our jaws drop.
My car is there, but all four of the tires sit deflated on the pavement, completely slashed. It’s personal.A warning.
