Page 63 of Hitch
“I know who you are,” he warns. “Stay away from our farm.”
I roll my eyes. “Fuck off.”
I devour the rest of the chicken wings like I’m angry, and hell, Iam.I don’t like being accused of something I haven’t done. I can understand it coming from Duane, because yeah, he found a video camera attached to my purse. But it’s like Braden thinks that there are no other suspects out there that are capable of doing something like that, except for me.
So they’re being blackmailed, then? How often does something like that happen in the drug world?
Andwhois doing the blackmailing?
Todd plops down beside me, stealing a soggy french fry and dipping the droopy end in the buffalo sauce, coating it in orange. I snatch it from his hand and pop it into my mouth.
“Hey!” he says.
“Those aremyfries,” I say.
“You weren’t eating them.”
I inch my styrofoam container away from his hands.
“You realize I told Braden to leave you alone, right?” Todd asks.
Hope finally catches fire in my chest. I needsomeoneto be on my side. Thankfully, I have Todd. At least he isn’t accusing me of anything.
“What’s going on?” I ask. “Why was he here? Does he really think I’m blackmailing you guys?”
Todd wets his lips, anguish straining his eyes.
“You know what they do on the side, right?” he asks. I nod, and he rubs his forehead as he stares up at the television above the bar. A customer—our only one since two o’clock—shouts at the soccer game on the screen.
“Do you know anything else about the blackmail?” he asks hesitantly, almost like he’s afraid of the answer.
“No,” I snark, the irritation leaking into my voice. “I have nothing to do with that. Why would I know anything?”
“I don’t know. Have you seen anything weird? Talked to anyone strange?” I shake my head, and he continues: “Have you done anything lately that could make them think you’re against them?”
I blink my eyes slowly, leaning in closer to Todd. His eyes are calm and glossy now, as if he’s trying to figure this out too, just like I am.
He thinks I have something to do with the blackmail situation too, doesn’t he?
Why isn’t anyone on my side?
“Why would I ever go against someone like Duane?” I whisper, pleading for him to believe me.
Todd shakes his head. Then he turns away, unable to face me.
“Just be careful with them, Secret,” he says. I can’t tell if he’s saying that because he thinks I’m guilty, or because he’s scared for me, and either way, it frustrates me. “Duane is a good man, but you have to be smart. Look out for yourself. Don’t make a mistake like trusting a drug lord.”
Todd’s words hang in the air as I study him. He and the customer start discussing the game on the screen, and I blink at him.
Why do I get the feeling like there’s something missing in this picture?
The Mortician rounds the corner, his eyes lighting up as he sees me. And for a moment, I forget that the last time he was here, he called me names and Duane forced him to leave.
“My beautiful queen,” the Mortician says, opening his arms up for a hug. “It’s been too long.”
I give him a hug, but as his cologne swallows me up, dread fills my stomach.
I know what the Mortician expects, and I don’t need that from him anymore. I’ve got enough saved from working for Duane, and Duane has made me come so many times that my pussy is perpetually sore. Loyalty toward Duane seems more important than getting fingered for a couple hundred bucks.
