Page 20 of The Highwaymen

Jamie let out a derisive snort. “Please. No one's 'just a driver' for the kind of scratch you're pulling in. You forget, I've seen that nice fat wad of cash you keep tucked away. And this time, I’m not talking about your dick.”

He leaned in closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “So what is it really? Drugs? Guns? Or maybe something more exotic, like endangered animal parts or black market organs?”

I huffed out an exasperated sigh. “Christ, kid, you've got quite the imagination. Drop it. You don't want to know and I'm not telling you. Plausible deniability.”

Jamie held up his hands in mock surrender, a smirk playing at his lips. "All right, all right, keep your secrets. But just so you know, danger gets me all hot and bothered. The shadier the cargo, the harder I'm gonna ride you later.”

We rode in tense silence for a while, nothing but the rumble of the engine and the tinny twang of the radio filling the cab. Jamie stared out the window, his long elegant fingers tapping out the rhythm against his thigh. I tried to keep my eyes on the road, but they kept being drawn back to those restless hands, remembering all too vividly the clever things they'd done to me at our last stop.

Fuck, what was I doing? This was all kinds of stupid, letting the little psycho get close, letting him worm his way under my skin like this. I had rules for a reason - no repeat fucks, no getting attached, no complications. And Jamie? He was the very definition of a complication.

As the miles stretched on, the sun slowly sinking towards the rugged horizon, I couldn't shake the growing unease in my gut. It gnawedat me, an itch I couldn't scratch, a persistent whisper in the back of my mind telling me I was making a huge mistake in letting Jamie stick around.

Sure, the sex was fantastic, mind-blowing even. The way he could play my body like a finely tuned instrument, wringing out pleasure I'd never knew existed. But that's all it could ever be - a physical release, scratching an itch. Anything more was inviting disaster.

I snuck a glance over at Jamie, dozing in the passenger seat, his sinfully full lips parted slightly. He looked almost innocent in sleep, the hard edges of him softened, that manic energy tucked away behind closed eyelids. But I knew the darkness that lurked beneath that pretty facade had seen it firsthand. The kid was dangerous, damaged in ways I was only beginning to comprehend.

And yet, some twisted part of me was drawn to that darkness, moth to a flame. It called to the shadows in my own soul, the ones I tried so hard to outrun. With Jamie, I didn't have to hide the ugliest parts of myself. He embraced them, reveled in them even.

But he knew my secret, and that made him dangerous. I couldn’t just let him go, which left me with limited options. I either had to keep him, or kill him. I just wasn’t sure yet if I had the balls to do either.

Los Angeles glittered beforeme, a sprawling blanket of lights stretching to the horizon as the semi rattled down the highway. I pressed my forehead to the passenger window, eyes wide as I tried to take it all in.

I had seen cities before, of course. But nothing like this. LA was bigger, brighter, more vibrant and alive than anything I'd ever experienced, hitching rides from town to town, letting men fuck me for a few bills in dark alleys and grungy motel rooms. This city had a pulse, an electric thrum I could feel even from inside the cab of Stu's eighteen-wheeler.

I glanced over at Stu, his craggy profile outlined by the dim glow of the dash lights. One large hand gripped the wheel, the other resting on the gearshift. I wondered how many men those hands had killed. As many as mine? More? The thought sent a dark thrill through me.

Growing up in Bumfuck, Nowhere, population three hundred, I couldn't even imagine a place like Los Angeles existed outside of movies. But here it was, larger than life.

Stu drove the rumbling semi skillfully through the evening traffic as we descended into the valley. I pressed my face to the passenger window, drinking in every detail I could. The soaring skyscrapers of downtown reached to the heavens. Endless urban sprawl stretched to the horizon in every direction, a concrete jungle teeming with millions of lives. Palm trees lined the boulevards, their silhouettes like strange alien figures in the twilight.

The sheer scope of it all made my head spin. So many people, so much happening. All those potential victims, ripe for the taking. My cock twitched at the thought. The possibilities were endless.

Stu glanced over, a knowing smirk on his grizzled face. “Quite the sight, ain't it, kid?”

I grinned back wickedly. “Can't wait to get started. I'm gonna fuck this city raw.”

“Easy there, kid. I know it's tempting with all this fresh meat,” Stu growled, his voice a low rumble. “But you gotta be smart. This ain't some podunk town where no one'll miss a few drifters. LA's a big city, sure, but that means they got a big police force too. More eyes watchin', more chances of gettin' caught.”

I huffed, slouching back in my seat. As much as I hated to admit it, the old man had a point. We couldn't just go hog wild, leaving a trail of bodies from one end of the city to the other. Had to be strategicabout it. The thought of restraining myself made my skin itch, but I knew Stu was right. He'd been at this a lot longer than me.

“I've been hauling cargo to LA for years now,” Stu continued, guiding the semi onto the off-ramp. “Got a routine, regular pickups and drop-offs. Last thing I need is the cops sniffing around, asking too many questions 'cause some kid couldn't keep it in his pants.”

He shot me a pointed look, and I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. No shitting where you eat.”

I slouched in my seat, watching the city lights blur by as Stu navigated the tangled web of freeways with practiced ease. We skirted the edges of downtown, towering skyscrapers giving way to sprawling warehouses and rail yards, the beating industrial heart of the city.

Stu pulled off the interstate, steering the semi through the dark, narrow streets of an old manufacturing district. Rows of dilapidated factories and abandoned buildings lined the road, their crumbling brick facades covered in graffiti. A few flickering streetlights cast pools of sickly yellow light, but most had long since burned out or been shot out.

The desolation sent a shiver down my spine. It was the perfect hunting ground - isolated, populated by transients and junkies no one would miss. My fingers twitched, eager to wrap around the handle of a blade, to feel the hot spray of blood. But I restrained myself. Work before play, as Stu would say.

We came to a stop outside a graffiti-covered warehouse with a rusted metal door. Two men with assault rifles slung over their shoulders emerged from the shadows. Lookouts, making sure only expected company dropped by. Stu flashed his headlights twice and the men visibly relaxed, waving us through.

The semi rumbled through the opened warehouse doors, metal rattling shut behind us.

The warehouse was cavernous and dark, lit only by a few bare bulbs dangling from the rafters. Stacks of unmarked crates and steel barrels reached to the shadowed ceiling. Shady men milled about, some loading boxes onto flatbed trucks, others standing guard with hard eyes and twitchy trigger fingers.

Stu killed the engine, and we climbed down from the cab. A wiry man with slicked back hair approached.

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