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He glared at her. “Excuse the fuck out of me, but I think having a gun pointed at me is pretty goddamn serious. Maybe I’m just weird.”

“You’re definitely weird.”

“Maybe. And you still haven’t answered my question.”

It was a strange thing. He’d spent much of the afternoon dreading and avoiding this conversation, but now that it had started he wanted answers. Direct, honest answers.

She looked at him. “I like to fuck with people.”

“So that’s what you were doing? Fucking with me?”

A small nod. “Yeah.”

“Lovely. Nice.”

“Stop being such a sensitive bitch.”

Rob didn’t reply to that.

She was still staring at him. “Admit it.”

He frowned. “Huh? Admit what?”

“You’d like to fuck me right now.”

Rob’s expression then was meant to be withering, an “I can’t believe you even went there, you fucking lunatic” look. An equally scathing and sarcastic comment should have accompanied it. But some primitive, below-the-surface part of him appraised her body even as he seethed with indignation. His eyes traced her curves and the swell of her breasts against that tight black T-shirt. He looked at that bright shade of lipstick and licked his lips. God, he wanted to kiss her.

He wanted to…

Shit.

She laughed. “You know what I’d like?”

He swallowed thickly. “What?”

“I’d like you to stick that gun in my pussy. Fully loaded. And fuck me with it.”

“Jesus. You’re crazy.”

She smirked. “You’re just figuring that out?”

“Jesus. Look. Seriously. I’m not sticking a gun…there.” He shuddered visibly. “No. Just…no.”

“Prude.”

“If refusing to stick a firearm in your private parts makes me a prude, so be it. I can’t get over how totally fucking insane you are. I mean…what kind of person thinks of things like that? There aren’t words for how totally messed up you are.”

Roxie’s expression turned oddly thoughtful. “For me, sex and violence are closely related things, Rob. Think about it. Sex itself is a pretty aggressive, violent act. All that struggling and exertion. All that sweat and physicality. One person dominating the other a lot of the time. Most people don’t let themselves see it that way. They wrap it up with all these phony ideas about romance and call it ‘making love.’ Pure bullshit. Sex is a brute thing. It’s about asserting yourself and controlling the other person. It’s about subjugation. And violence.”

Rob scratched his head and squinted at her. “I don’t know. Have you ever really been in love with someone, Roxie? Because I can tell you that sex with someone you really care about is more than what you’re saying. It’s…deeper.”

Roxie made a dismissive sound. “Right. Whatever. I read about a woman on death row in Texas a while back. Maybe you’ll remember this. She and some other people killed some people. She used a hatchet on one of them. She said she had an orgasm every time she swung the hatchet into the victim.”

“Christ.”

Roxie was smirking again. “That’s what I’m talking about, see? Sex and violence, they’re flip sides of the same coin. You can’t have one without the other. That woman later repented and found God, the way they all do before they fry, but I guarantee she was never being more honest than when she said that thing about the hatchet.”

“Is that what it’s like for you, Roxie?” Rob couldn’t bring himself to look at her as he asked this, fearing what he’d see in her expression. “Do you get off when you shoot people?”

“Not all the time. Not when things are happening too fast, which is how it usually goes down, right? But back there in the woods…a situation like that? Yeah. I got very excited when I was playing that little game.”

Rob closed his eyes. “Jesus. God…”

She reached out and squeezed his knee, making his eyes snap open. “Hell, I’ve been thinking about it all day. I’m horny as shit.” She laughed. “Shit, why do you think we’re talking about this?”

He stared at her hand on his knee. He wanted to push it away, but he didn’t want to upset her. She squeezed again, the fingers pressing more firmly into the denim-covered flesh. He looked at her. Her expression was serious and focused, her eyes blazing with seductive intensity. And as disturbed as he was by the turn of the conversation, a part of him shared that desire.

He coughed. “Um…”

Her hand slid away from his knee and moved higher up his thigh. “Next exit. We’ll pull off and find a place. Okay?”

He nodded weakly. “Yeah…okay.”

“This’ll just be a quickie. But I have something special in mind for later tonight, after we stop for the day. Okay?”

Her hand moved up and down his thigh, stirring him to full arousal. He could barely concentrate now. He forced himself to shift his gaze from her caressing hand to her face. “What…do you have in mind?”

She smiled. “I want to tie you up. Do some things to you. Maybe make you come around to my way of thinking on some things. That feel good?”

He groaned. “Yeah. Jesus. Fuck, Roxie.”

Rob felt helpless. And stupid. A few minutes ago he had been thinking how dumb it had been to let her manipulate him with sex. And here he was, letting it happen again. The truth was, he was powerless against her. Resistance was impossible, compliance a given. She began to really work at him, squeezing and stroking harder and harder. He groaned some more and writhed in the seat.

“You’re about to go off.”

Rob whimpered.

She let go of him and laughed. “You okay, Rob? You look sort of…frustrated.”

He leaned back in his seat and listened to his racing heart. He shivered. “Jesus…”

She giggled. “You’re addicted to me already. I’m your heroin. Admit it.”

“There’s a song about that.”

“What song?”

“It’s called ‘She’s Like Heroin To Me.’ It’s by the Gun Club.”

“I know that name. Haven’t heard them, though. Is it good?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. What other music do you like?”

Rob shrugged and shook his head to clear it. He didn’t want to talk about music. He only wanted to feel her hand sliding up and down his leg again. “Um…rock. You know…hard rock. Metal. Punk. Psychobilly.”

“Psychobilly? Like the Cramps?”

“Yeah.”

“I love them. And Twathammer. Are you into horror?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

She smiled. “Me, too. Like, massively. You see, Rob? This shit was meant to be. You and I are so compatible it fucking hurts, man.”

Rob didn’t say anything at first. A lot about Roxie repelled and sickened him. She was a bad person. She did very bad things. But in truth, he did feel very in tune with her in some ways. “We sort of are, I guess,” he said at last. “But I’m never sure whether you’re telling me something you really believe or just fucking with my head again.”

“That’s part of the fun, Rob.”

“No. It really isn’t, Roxie.”

Her eyes went wide and she sat up straighter behind the wheel. “Ooh! Let’s pick up the hitchhiker!”

“What?”

Rob cranked his head to the right and scanned the road’s shoulder. He saw a slim figure maybe a quarter mile distant. A man standing with his thumb out. He had that scraggly, weathered look of the long-term homeless. Rob was able to see deep lines on the man’s face as they drew closer. He had hard, unfriendly eyes. Rob didn’t like the look of the man at all.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Yeah, but I’m in charge and your opinion counts for shit.”

Roxie slowed the Tercel and pulled over. She hit a button and the window on Rob’s side slid down. The hitchhiker came up to the car and leaned down to peek inside. “Where y’all headed?”

Roxie grinned. “Wherever you’re going. Hop on in. Back’s unlocked.”

The man moved away from the window and opened the back door. He tossed his backpack in and climbed inside, pulling the door shut. “Can’t tell you folks how much I appreciate the kindness. Most folks these days can’t be bothered to help a fella out.”