Hitched: A Dark Hitchhiker Romance (Ride or Die Romances)
Hitched: Chapter 12

Selena

I don’t realize how hungry I am until I scarf down my food. It’s the first substantial meal I’ve had since the night Lex got in my car. My last big dinner was leftover food-truck pizza on the overtime shift from hell.

“I probably should have fed you sooner,” he says through a laugh.

My cheeks heat as I realize I probably looked like a ravenous animal. I pretty much am.

“Worst captor ever,” I say through a noisy sip of my nearly empty drink.

Lex smirks at me. “I’m not a captor. You’re just an unwilling passenger. We’re close, aren’t we?” he asks, and I nod. “Then you drive. Drop me off a few blocks away and tell me the address.”

I shake my head. I do not like that plan. I’m terrified to walk into the house alone after all this. After everything we’ve done and the things we’ll do in the future. “What am I even supposed to tell him about where I’ve been?”

“Just tell him the truth. That you were carjacked.”

“I don’t want to go in alone,” I whisper.

“You have to. Have I ever let anything bad happen to you?” he asks.

I cock my head at him because he almost sold me, and I’d say that was something pretty fucking bad. “You offered me as payment for that fake ID.”

“I didn’t let it happen, rabbit,” he says. He gets out of the car, and we swap seats.

I tighten my lips as I sit in the driver’s seat. I don’t like this idea. I hate it, actually. But he’s right. I can’t pull into my driveway with Lex in the passenger seat. He needs the element of surprise once I get inside the house.

We creep closer to my home without speaking. My stomach twists in knots, more so than when I first had sex with Lex. I pull over before we get into the upscale neighborhood I used to call home. It doesn’t feel like it any longer. It feels like a stranger’s street. It is a stranger’s street.

I’m not the same Selena who last drove on this road.

I cut the engine, but we don’t move a muscle. “Give me your house key,” he says. He reaches toward me with an outstretched hand, but I hesitate before leaning over and twisting the key from the ring.

I hand it to him and cut my gaze.

He gets out of the car and leans through the open door to look at me once more. His hand digs around in his pocket before revealing a pocketknife. He tosses it on the passenger seat. “I’ll be there for you as soon as I can. If anything happens, use that, okay?” His hand grips the door handle. It’s as if he doesn’t want to leave me, or like he has something more he wants to say.

But he doesn’t.

I watch him walk away as I turn the key in the ignition and drive toward my hell. The devil is waiting for me, and I want to vomit from the fear squeezing my stomach.

Will he smell Lex on me? Inside me? Will he know I’ve become a willing participant? I had so many opportunities to escape, but I didn’t. Escape meant running back to the nightmare my husband and I share.

I pull into my driveway and stare at the house that doesn’t feel like my home anymore. I feel safer in my car. Safer with Lex. I tuck the pocketknife into my waistband and exit the car. The moment I step onto the first stair, the door whips open. A fog drifts over me as I stare at Bryce. He looks so cold, and his hardened mask shows no emotion, not even concern or excitement at seeing me. This blank nothingness is scarier than his rage.

His face finally twists into a familiar anger—the expression I’m used to. I see it in a renewed light this time, as if there’s a bullseye planted in the middle of his forehead now, and it almost makes me laugh. I enjoy the idea that this might be his last anger-fueled inhale.

Bryce grabs my arm and rips me inside. The sharp points of his fingers dig into my flesh, painting another bruise on my skin.

“Where the hell have you been, Selena?”

I strain against his grasp. “I got carjacked,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Bullshit. Stop fucking lying to me.”

My eyes well with tears. “I’m not lying to you. I swear.”

I’m not lying, but I’m not telling the truth, either. Yes, I got carjacked, but then this whole road trip became something else entirely, something that made me see life in a different way, and I welcomed Lex into my home to get rid of my problems.

“It’s been days. Who did you run off with? Have you been fucking around on me?”

“I didn’t run off!” I take a deep breath, trying to push away the stampede of guilt that seeks to trample my voice. “I haven’t done anything.”

“Fucking whore,” he says with a curl of his lip.

“Bryce, please . . .” I plead. Such a familiar sound, yet it never made him stop. Pleading only angers him. He hates the weakness.

He silently broods, which is worse than when he yells. His fist pulls back, and before I can react, he punches me in the face. The force knocks me into the wall, and framed pictures fall and shatter at my feet. Hurry Lex, I think as the glass spreads along the floor. I don’t make a sound, though, because I know he gets off on it. I can’t even reach up and baby the stinging heat in my cheek.

He’s never hit me in the face like this because it would be too hard to hide. His attacks have always targeted places my clothes could conceal. Everyone probably thought I ran off, and he has no reason to tell them I returned. He can kill me and no one will know any different, and that’s what I’m afraid of.

“You want to run off and be a whore? I’ll show you how whores get fucked.” Bryce grabs me by my hair, leads me to the kitchen, and bends me over the island. A mug falls off the countertop and crashes to the ground as I fight against him. I know what’s coming.

It’s not the first time.

I slip my hand down and grab the pocketknife from my waistband, concealing it in my balled fist. Cold air bites my skin as he pulls down my pants and works open his fly.

“You don’t even have underwear on? My god, Selena. I’m embarrassed to call you my wife.” The heat of his cock presses against me, and I pray he doesn’t notice the wetness that came from someone other than my husband.

From Lex.

I clench my eyes closed and try to ignore Bryce’s harsh grasp as he readies himself. I slip into my mind, where Lex still lives. I try to imagine him behind me. Tears slip past my closed eyes and drip onto the marble countertop. My pelvis rubs painfully against the lip of the island as he pushes his weight against me. I feel guilt, a lot of it, but not for allowing Lex to be inside me. I feel guilty for not fighting harder against Bryce. There’s a certain level of acceptance that lets shitty husbands do more than they should to their wives.

Clapping.

The sound forces my eyes to open. Lex stands a few feet away, smacking his hands together in sarcastic applause. Bryce stops and tucks himself back in his pants before zipping them. Only a moment later and he’d have made Lex a liar when he said no one else would get inside me.

Lex draws his pistol and aims it at him. “Don’t stop on my account.” He circles us, stops across from me, and leans against the island. His eyes meet mine for a moment before returning to Bryce. “She feels fucking amazing, doesn’t she?”

“Who the fuck are you?” Spit flies against the back of my arm from the raging force of Bryce’s words.

“The one who held your wife against her will,” Lex says with a proud, dark smile.

“I told you I wasn’t lying,” I whisper, though I doubt he hears me over the anger between his ears.

“Is that how you’d fuck her, boss?” Lex asks Bryce. “Come on, show me.”

My gaze rises to Lex, but he avoids my eyes as he looks over my head. I drop my forehead to the counter. The shame makes me wish for death all over again. Anger greets me in every direction, and I’m stuck in the middle of a sea of hatred.

“You’re pitiful. You can stop or you can fuck her, but mark my words, it’ll be the last time you’re inside her,” Lex says with a disgustingly calm demeanor. I don’t know how he’s so willing to let Bryce have sex with me, after—

Bryce pulls away from me, and I nearly lose my balance. I go to tug up my pants, but Lex clears his throat.

“Oh no, not yet.” The darkness in his eyes makes me tremble. I hardly recognize him. He doesn’t look like the man I’ve let inside me. He looks evil. He’s someone else entirely at this moment.

Lex walks up to Bryce and throws him against the wall, and a nauseating crack blows through the kitchen when his fist collides with Bryce’s face. Blood splatters on the floor, but I can’t bring myself to look at the source of it.

With his gun aimed at Bryce, Lex circles behind me and rubs a firm hand down my back. “I thought I’d like watching you fuck her because I’ve thought about it as I’ve made her come from my hand, but that was fucking pitiful.”

Bryce charges at Lex, but a quick jut of his gun keeps Bryce back.

“If you take another step toward me, I’ll blow your brains onto the picture behind you. The one of you and her.” Lex goes to unbutton his jeans. Before he goes for the zipper, he turns to Bryce once more. “This stain on my pants? I’m glad you asked. Yeah, it’s her come. How often have you worn her like that? Have you even made her come since you fucking married her or is that”—he gestures between me and Bryce—“what she used to get? Some half-assed fuck. I mean, I’m selfish as fuck and I still made sure she came.”

Lex loops his arm around my hip and puts his hand between my legs. I steal a quick glance at Bryce. His nostrils flare with rage. His face is painted the color of the blood dripping from his nose.

Lex rubs my clit in a way that makes me twitch. “Do you even know how your wife likes to be touched? What makes her do . . . that?” He draws circles around me with the tips of his fingers. “Do you know how many fingers she likes inside her? How about how she likes a tongue on her? God, have you ever tasted her?” He pulls his fingers away from me and licks them. “She’s fucking delicious.”

“You have no idea who you’re fucking with,” Bryce snarls.

Lex smirks. “Oh, I do. Someone who doesn’t give a shit about his wife. You’re a little bitch who beats her even though she’s the most—” He swallows hard, as if he has more to say but thinks better of it.

I let the tears fall without restraint. When he takes a step back, I collapse to the floor and press my back against the island. Lex holds an open palm toward me, but he isn’t offering me a hand. He wants the knife. He doesn’t want to shoot him in this neighborhood—the cops would be called the moment the sound punctuated the serene setting—but I keep the knife pinned to my chest. It makes me feel safer. He looks around for another weapon since my trembling hand refuses to relinquish the pocketknife.

Bryce sees an opportunity and leaps at him. He reaches for the knife attached to a magnet above the island. Lex tucks the pistol behind him before their bodies clash. The sound of flesh on flesh is nauseating. I shut my eyes to hide the view and cover my ears to stop the sound. Blood splashes across me, hitting my face and arms. I’m afraid to look and see who it came from, whose life force has spread across my skin.

I open my eyes.

Bryce stumbles back. Blood runs down his shirt and pants and collects at his feet. He clutches his abdomen, and I scream.

It happened.

It’s so fucking real.

Oh god.

Lex clamps a bloody hand over my mouth and tosses the kitchen knife aside. “Shh, bunny,” he whispers in that sweet way I recognize as so different from the way he talked before.

“Selena,” Bryce whispers. He hits the wall and slides down. “Come here,” he says, in a way that is so unlike him.

Lex becomes familiar to me at the same moment Bryce becomes a stranger. It’s a desperation I’ve never seen. It draws me to him. It’s a force I can’t fight, even if I try. I crawl toward him, shaking off Lex’s hand as he tries to grab me. I kneel in front of him, my eyes wide with fear and something else. Something unexpected.

He’s dying, I feel it. It nauseates me. It fucking hurts. But . . . it’s not pain from the prospect of losing him. It’s because the thought of his death doesn’t elicit enough pain.

I swipe open the blade and stab it into his stomach. All the evilness inside him spills from the wound. I pull it out and stab it through his groin. Lex gasps behind me, and there’s a squelching sound as I snatch the knife out and stab him again and again.

“Fuck you, you fucking asshole!” I keep stabbing until strong arms wrap around me and pull me away. My arm continues its repeated downward arc toward Bryce, fighting against Lex’s grasp as my rage blinds me.

Lex gets control over me, and his hand rides down my arm and grabs the knife. He rubs the handle on his shirt and puts it in his pocket.

“Rabbit, we have to go.” He grabs my wrist.

I shake my head. “Fuck me first.” I can feel the evil behind my glare when I turn my darkened eyes to him. The need to hurt Bryce one last time. I expect him to fight me on it, but he wastes no time pulling me into him.

His warm breath races across my chilled skin. “You’re out of your mind, rabbit. You weren’t supposed to get involved. You weren’t supposed to touch him.” He grabs my bloodied hand and rubs it. “You aren’t a killer. You can’t be,” he whispers. “That’s not what was supposed to happen.”

“I want this, Lex,” I say with more surety than I’ve ever felt about anything in my life.

He looks at me. “You know I’d do anything for you. If you want me to fuck you, I’ll fuck you.” Lex turns me around and puts my hands on the counter again. He unzips his pants and pulls out his cock. He pulls down my pants and pushes himself inside me.

I gasp as I drop my head to the marble, and the world disappears again, dripping away like the blood on the floor. He fucks me, hard and selfish, tearing me apart in ways I’ve never felt. It doesn’t matter how wet I am for him; he still makes me ache with the force of his thrusts.

Knowing Bryce is watching, he fucks me differently, and I don’t expect anything less. Lex loves control, and nothing screams it more than fucking someone’s wife in front of them. He bottoms out inside me and pushes just a fraction further, making me whimper.

“Did he ever fuck you like this?” Lex growls in my ear as he grinds his hips against my ass. “He looked like a disappointing fuck.”

“No, he never fucked me like you do,” I pant, leaving the fog of my breath on the fancy countertop. Lex groans and runs his arms down mine, leaning his weight into me.

Bryce chokes out a gurgled whimper—a sign of life, albeit a weak one. Lex goes to pull out of me to take care of it, but I grab his shirt. “Don’t. I hope he feels it all. I hope he can see us.”

“Sadistic fucking rabbit,” Lex growls as he pushes himself deep again. “I’m not ready to come yet. Not here.” He looks around, eyeing the steps. “Take me to your room.”

He pulls out of me and turns me to face him. His hand wipes the blood on my face.

“I want to fuck you in his bed. Your bed,” he says, low and smooth, as if we didn’t just kill a man.

I bite my lip and tug up my pants as he zips his jeans. With one last glance at Bryce’s motionless body, I guide Lex up the stairs. Desire saturates each warm exhale as it leaves his lips and sends pebbles across my skin. The wetness between my legs soaks through my pants.

When my hand grips the doorknob to our bedroom, it feels foreign, like I never belonged here at all. The door drags on the light blue carpet as it opens. It’s only through new eyes, gray-colored glasses, that I see how little of myself is in this room. Bryce’s suits line the closet, and his drab ties hang on the outside of the closet door. The room is decorated to his liking—black, white, and dark shades of gray. Nothing screams that a wife slept in here except my perfume—his favorite—on the nightstand. My clothes are folded in the drawers, away and out of sight, as he commanded.

Lex walks past me and rubs his blood-soaked hand across the white comforter. A sadistic smile crosses his face as he smears more crimson across the blanket, as if he’s painting on a canvas. He lies back with a groan and motions me to him. “Come on, bunny,” he whispers. “Get on my lap. I haven’t gotten to see you ride my dick outside of a damn car.”

I remove my pants and climb over him, straddling his lap as he undoes his zipper again. His warm cock rests against his lower stomach. His hand runs down the front of my thighs, where the worst of my fading bruise remains. The touch unintentionally fills my mind with memories, and I flinch.

“It’s over,” he says as he brings my face to his to kiss me. “He’ll never hurt you again.”

“Lex,” I whimper.

He wraps his hand around his cock with one hand, lifts my hip with the other, and pushes himself inside me. I lower myself onto his lap, welcoming every inch of him

He’s right. I haven’t had a chance to look at him quite like this. Looking down, I see a man who looks content to just be within me.

His blue eyes meet mine, dark and hungry. I try to ignore the blood soaking his shirt and saturating mine. My husband’s blood. When I lift the shirt and expose his abdomen, I see a long gash. It isn’t just Bryce’s blood after all.

“Lex!” I put my hand to his wound, blood dripping around my fingers.

He bats me away and smirks. “Let me bleed, rabbit. I’m fine. Just focus on riding my cock.”

How is he okay? Doesn’t he feel it? I’m not fine, and I’m just looking at his injury, not living with it.

He pulls me closer until my chest rests on his. The warm blood soaks through more of my shirt as he grabs my hips and forces me to move. He shows no reaction to the pain as I move with him. In fact, he looks like he almost enjoys it.

He groans, raising his hips to meet mine. “You look fucking beautiful.”

I can’t remember the last time Bryce called me anything nice, especially not beautiful. I place my hands on either side of his head and kiss his forehead. I leave my lips there, just feeling his warm breath on my throat.

“I’m going to guess he compliments you about as good as he fucks you,” Lex says with a laugh.

“Pretty much.” I draw my lips tight, keeping them against his forehead.

Lex lifts his hip and flips me onto my back. I stretch out on the king-sized bed, tie-dyed with blood. I wrap my legs around him, and he leans over and kisses me.

“Bunny, you are the sexiest thing I’ve ever laid my hands on. Fucking. Perfect. So goddamn smart, too. You deserve so much more than that piece of shit. More than me . . .” His words waver at the end until they cut off completely. His expression grows cold and more focused as he drives me into the mattress. Blood drips from his wet shirt onto mine. “I’m going to come, rabbit,” he says in a tone I almost don’t recognize. It’s robotic and distant. His thrusts slow and he pulls out of me, a string of his come connecting me to him.

Lex goes into the bathroom, leaving me half naked and confused. He comes out with a towel pressed on his cut.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask.

“Yeah, it’s hardly anything. It’ll stop,” he says. He uses one hand to zip up his pants. “We have to get going. I’ll take care of the cleanup here and your car. Wipe out as much of us as I can.”

I lean over and pull a key from the nightstand, tossing it to him. “My old car is in the garage. No one knows about it. Or at least no one who would report him missing right away.”

Lex smiles at me, pinched with something I can’t recognize.

“I’ll grab money, too.”

He tosses me a quick nod before heading down the slick wooden staircase.

I pack up some money in a bag. The steps creak beneath my weight as I come back downstairs. I look back once more, inhaling the noxious, metallic scent of blood. With Bryce’s spirit heading to hell where it belongs, nothing tethers me to this damn house any longer.

The house that never felt like home.