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Her eyes widen, and she attempts to slap the door shut. My foot doesn’t allow that to happen.
“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” I growl.
“Get the fuck away from me,” she screams, kicking at me as I force my way into her room.
I knock her feet away with my gun. “Don’t make me use this.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” she squeals, but she doesn’t look terribly confident. I’m sure she thinks I’m a psycho, and she’d be correct in that assumption.
But I’m not going to shoot a woman for no reason, especially not one as pretty as Lola.
I tuck my pistol into my shoulder holster and reach for the cable ties I kept in case we had to take prisoners. The kicking a screaming is a dead giveaway of someone who isn’t going to go down without a fight, and I really don’t need her giving me a black eye while I’m trying to work. My brother Nikolai would never stop laughing at me if that happened.
“Come here and stop fighting me,” I say, grabbing at Lola as she steadies herself against the back of a chair. “You’re not going to be able to overpower me.”
“Stop it, you fucking freak!” She throws her feet out again, flailing like a fish out of water.
I grab her ankles and pull them together, tearing her off the back of the seat and sliding her across the textured metal floor toward me. She continues to squirm, screaming so loud and high-pitched that my ears hurt.
A phone falls out of the waistband of her skirt, and I snatch it up before she can retrieve it. “I’ll be taking that,” I say, tucking it into my pocket.
I slap three cable ties across her ankles, pulling them together until the clicking stops and she can’t move them apart. “Good, now the hands.”
“Stop it!”
“Shut the fuck up,” I grumble, bending over her and grabbing her arms. I shake her a bit to drive my point in. “I’m not who you think I am. Whatever happened between us before is in the past. I’m the bad guy now. Live with it.”
She goes silent as I bind her wrists together with three more plastic ties.
“That’s better,” I say, helping her up. “Now, sit in your seat and steer us to Texas. And don’t make me tell you twice.”
“Texas?” she asks with a small voice.
“I said I was commandeering this train, so yes, we’re going to Texas. Is there a problem?”
She shakes her head. “No, it’s just… far.”
“A couple of days. I’m assuming you have enough fuel for that,” I reply, looking at the mess of controls by the chair. “I don’t know what any of this means.”
I catch a smirk dancing across her lips. “We might not have enough fuel. If we do, it’sbarelyenough. I guess you need me to drive this hunk of metal, though, and I’m not sure if I feel like doing that after you admitted to murdering someone. That would make me your accomplice.”
I laugh. “You’re in no position to negotiate with me, sugartits.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Don’t ever call me that again.”
“I remember them being sweet.”
She scoffs. “Are you for real? Like, you’re going to murder someone and try to steal a train, and then you’re going to turn around and start making jokes about my tits? Who even are you?”
“Jasha,” I reply.
She looks like she wants to kill me. “I know that already.”
“Jasha Antonov, leader of the Antonov Bratva for the past…” I drum my fingers across my chin. “Six years, I believe. My brother, Nikolai, is semi-retired. Wife and kids. You know the drill.”
“I didn’t understand half of what you just said,” she replies. “Maybe it’s the accent.”
I force her down into her seat, squeezing her shoulder. “Don’t try to be funny with me. Just do what I say.”
