Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Because I knew…I knew…
The air sparked to life with a caustic energy.
He was here.
I was in the back of the carriage, so I hoped against hope that he hadn’t seen me yet. I ducked further down in my seat and watched Kostya make his way down the aisle.
Men shifted in their seats at his intimidating presence, while more than one woman gave him an appreciative once-over. If he noticed their looks, he didn’t show it. His piercing gaze searched each face as he methodically prowled down the center aisle.
My heart pumped blood to my ears in a sickening rush, my head becoming dizzy.
Maybe I could hide. Maybe he wouldn’t notice me. Maybe a wizard would come down to rescue me. The wizard seemed as likely an option as the other two.
Fuck.
I was trapped.
My chest ached, my breath coming out in quick gasps. I stared at him, my muscles tensed. My mouth went dry, and adrenaline flooded my system.
With each step closer he took, my mind raced, trying to assess potential outcomes…but they all led to the same conclusion.
I was well and truly fucked.
Would he put a bullet in my brain in front of these witnesses?
Drag me to the terrifying junction between the train cars and just toss me off, assuming I’d die in the fall?
Or worse.
Fuck. I was really screwed when taking a bullet to the head or being thrown off a moving train weren’t the worst-case scenarios.
The worst-case scenario was that he returned me to Solovyov in Russia. Russians had a natural talent for torture. The man could keep me alive and begging for death for months before finally putting me out of my misery. That was if he didn’t decide to get his money back the “old-fashioned” way, by forcing me to work in one of his notorious brothels. A living death.
My thoughts swarmed as my heart pounded, and Kostya got another step closer.
What if I screamed?
Would someone here save me?
I had no idea.
No, that wasn’t an option. If someone helped me all they would do was earn a bullet for their trouble, and then I would have their blood on my hands. My conscience was already heavy enough because I lusted after my murderous brother-in-law. I didn’t need another person’s death piling on.
Kostya was another row closer.
Only six rows between us.
My shirt felt damp against my back, sticking to me.
A larger man stood, blocking Kostya’s way as he tried to get something from a bag he had stored on the overhead rack.
This was my chance.
Now or never.
My fight-or-flight kicked in.
I bolted out of my seat and over the woman beside me, a rabbit scared out of its warren. Pumping my arms and legs as hard as I could, I slammed my hand on the button to jump between carriages.
His footsteps thundered behind me.
The rush of cold air between the train carriages took my breath away, but I pushed through.
In the next carriage, people were still settling in and stowing their baggage.
Thank God I was small and could maneuver around them far easier than Kostya’s bulk.
Even if people jumped out of his way, it would still slow him down.
The rush of wind hit me in the face as I opened the next door, at the far end of the carriage, my cheeks stinging from the cold air.
The doors closed behind me just as I risked a look over my shoulder.
I would run out of carriages soon.
Maybe I could alert the train official?
No. I didn’t know who he worked for. Or if he was equipped to deal with someone like Kostya.
I kept moving through the carriages one at a time, slowing just enough so it looked to the casual observer as if I were rushing to the bathroom instead of running from a Russian killer.
What happened when I got to the end of the train? Should I jump off the back like they did in the movies? Did people actually do that in real life and survive?
And then…disaster.
A woman trying to control her toddler who was running amok, and a stroller with an infant, blocked my way. There was no way to push past them.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry. Can I get through?” I asked, trying to mask the panic in my voice.
“I’m doing the best I can,” the woman snapped at me.
I saw the instant regret on her face, and normally I would assure her it was fine, but I could feel him getting closer.
Time was running out.
Then…the door whooshed open behind me.
My back stiffened; the hair on my neck rose.
My voice was barely more than a squeak trying to escape my throat, which was closing in panic. “Ma’am, please, I really need to—”
“Wait,” she bit out again before muttering something under her breath as she took the infant out of the stroller.
Just as I stepped forward, trying to push around her, Kostya’s arm wrapped painfully around my waist from behind, squeezing tight enough to steal my breath and make my ribs ache.