Page 6 of Claimed By the Hitchhiker

It’s worse than I thought. So much worse.

Her father and his men?! I don’t know who they are or what they want with her, but for the past hour, Dani has burrowed herself under my skin. The more I know, the more boiling fury swells inside me.

By the looks of it, she doesn’t have anyone on her side.

Surprise, motherfuckers. She has me. I don’t even have half the story, but I already know—down to the marrow of my bones—that I’m standing by her. Keeping her safe. Making sure none of them can hurt her. Ever again.

She’s mine to protect. And maybe, eventually, mine to pleasure. I have no idea how much she’s endured, but she's suffered enough.

No more.

From here on out, she’s not always gonna look over her shoulder or jump at the slightest sound of an engine rumbling. The way her face contorted with fear when that motorcycle passed us by will forever be burned in my retinas.

Earlier, I was just about to start a new life in a new town. Now, I have a mission. A renewed purpose.

Earn her complete trust. Take care of her problems, and by taking care, I mean I’m not above bashing those men’s skulls to the ground. Make her mine.

The last one is most likely a foregone conclusion. Judging by the way she reacted when she touched me, I say she already belongs to me. Even if she’s not fully aware of it yet.

“Tell me about them.” My tone comes out gruffer than usual, so I soften it as I add, “I need to know more about who we’re dealing with.”

“This is gonna sound crazy.”

“I’ve seen my share of crazy, Dani. Tell me at your own pace. I won’t interrupt. You have my word.”

She shifts in her seat, her hands trembling on her lap. “I grew up in a small community with mostly women and other young girls. I-It’s in the middle of the woods. We’re totally off the grid. We have our own power and water supply, and that’s the extent of technology we’re exposed to. No TV or radio. But we had cameras, which followed us everywhere. Almost everywhere. They had these red dots that blinked, and it always creeped me out.

“We eat healthy foods, mostly fruits and vegetables from our own garden. Us girls are told to exercise at least an hour every day, spend some time under the sun, and have to undergo blood tests every few months.”

There’s a sinking feeling in my stomach and a pounding at the base of my skull.

“When we turn 18, we graduate and are sent to the main house a few miles away. We don’t know what happens to girls who graduate since we never see them again. Well, I didn’t until yesterday.”

Without thinking, I reach out and cover her hand. Instead of pulling her hand back, she rests her other hand on top of mine and starts tracing my knuckles with her fingers.

Whatever coherent thought I had a second ago flies out the window.

My loins tighten, and my stiff manhood strains against my zipper. Heat licks through my veins, and my nerves are strung so tightly I think I might snap.

Fucking hell. Dirty thoughts slam into my head, and I shake them away. No. Hell no. This is not about me.

Her touch is innocent, and yet here I am, a grown man turning feral at something as simple as hand-holding.

Maybe I’m the crazy one.

“You look angry?”

I slowly pull my hand back and scrub it roughly across my face. This is important to her. My cock is not the priority. “I’m not. Go on, I won’t distract you again.”

“Oh okay.” She gathers herself and from the corner of my eye, I see her straighten her spine. “My only friend is a 16-year-old girl named Elise. She’s very smart with numbers, but she’s also nosy. There’s a small office by the gate, and she goes there every morning to do some calculations and stuff. She has access to the file cabinet and easily figured out the blind spots inside. You know, where there are no cameras.

“That was how she pieced everything together. The graduation? Father wouldn’t bring us to the main house. There is no main house. He’d bring us to a small clinic where our organs will be harvested and sold to the highest bidder.”

I know what’s coming before she even opens her mouth.

“I just turned 18 last month. I’m supposed to graduate tomorrow.”

My pulse pounds in my throat, frustration rolling over me. I can’t take it anymore so I pull over and turn the engine off.

---