Page 70 of Hitch
I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for the knife, but a hand comes under my chin, forcing me to turn toward him. My eyes flutter open.
Duane’s gaze is blue and soulless, like he’s seeing past me, into the future.
“Get out of here,” he says, his words a mix of a warning and an order. Chills run down my spine. I twist out of his hands, scrambling away from him.
And Duane lets me go.
I don’t stop to think about what that means; I just keep running. Once I’m outside, I scurry along the side of the barn, hiding in the shadows, moving as fast as I can while staying quiet.
I look back at the barn to see if he’s following me, and I smack into a hard, warm surface. I flinch as I face what or who it is.
Braden glowers down at me, his red hair flaming around his head like a bonfire. He cracks his neck, then grabs my arm. I scream, scrambling for my gun, but he grabs it out of my hands before I can take a shot.
“Spying again?” Braden says. “Should’ve known better than that.”
“I haven’t done anything,” I say carefully.
“Bullshit,” he says. “You’re the only one who’d be dumb enough to blackmail us.”
“I didn’t do—”
He throws me to the ground, knocking the wind from my chest. I gasp, catching my breath as he binds duct tape around my wrists.
“Doesn’t matter,” he says reluctantly. “You ain’t doing shit now.”
Then he puts his arm around my throat and chokes me, the air squeezing from my lungs. My vision goes blurry, and I cross my fingers that I’ll see Duane before I pass out. But I know how stupid that thought is. Duane isn’t here to save me.
He’s the reason I’m here.
Chapter23
Duane
The next hours pass,leading into daytime, and soon, it’s past noon. The Mortician’s body is with the rest of them, underneath the animal scraps, buried so far deep in the ground that when the dogs come looking, they’ll smell the animal flesh before they find the victims. It was how we did it back in Florida, and it’s how I do it now. But none of that matters.
All I can think about isher.
Reggie’s phone stays on my nightstand, and with her car parked out front, there’s no way I can find her.
I take the truck, driving over to Stockton, scanning the side of the road for any hitchhikers. I even check the gloryhole. But there’s no sign of her anywhere.
She’s just gone.
Respect is something you earn, and the longer I studied Reggie, the less I started to see her like an object, and the more I started seeing her like an equal. I should’ve just killed her after I fucked her that first night. That was my first mistake.
But even now, I know I never would’ve killed her. It just wouldn’t happen.
She’s gone, but I can’t shake the idea that it’s not over. Not yet. Not until I know for sure—
What?That she’s safe?
What the hell is wrong with me?
I clench my fists as I go to the front of the house, searching for answers. Her car is unlocked. Todd left the keys in the console, and though you’d expect the interior to smell like his cologne since he was the last one to drive it, all I smell isher.Overly ripe. Like sex and vanilla. A blanket is tossed on the backseat, and there’s a napkin for a fast-food restaurant on the cushion. A pair of clear stripper heels on the floor, dashed with dried up superglue, a half-assed job to keep the rubber sole intact.
Then I notice a black device.
I pick it up, twirling it between my hands. It’s thin and sleek, probably a newer camera. I scrutinize it, imagining it in Reggie’s hands.
