Hard steel pushed into the side of my rib. “Doesn’t look that way from where I’m standing.”
I chuckled. “You got me there. So what happens now? You put a bullet through my back, then ride four more hours with these fine people?”
“I should put a bullet through your fucking head. When it comes down to who leaves this train, the choice is easy.”
I attempt to push out of his grasp, but he flips me over, crushing me against his hard torso, our faces mere inches apart. For two people who wanted to kill one another, we sure did end up in compromising positions. Worst of all, I didn’t hate it. Not one bit.
“I’m just doing my job. You should understand that more than anyone.”
We stared each other down. The look in his eyes was cold and calculating. He was probably brainstorming the best way to dispose of me without raising suspicion, much like I was.
“Walk,” he demanded, motioning behind me with his chin. “If you try anything, you so much as breathe in a way I don’t like—”
“You want something a little more private. I like that,” I crooned, fingers playing with a button near his chest. I thought I saw his neck bob with a hard swallow, but I couldn’t be sure because he caught my wrist so hard and fast it made me gasp.
“Move.”
I cast him a curt side-eye before turning and walking toward the train room. As I stepped inside and began to swivel, Silas shoved me violently the rest of the way before I could face him. I caught myself on a bench, but not before falling to my knees.
“Son of a—”
The cold titanium of a suppressor dug between my brows, his body pinning me against the cushion.
“We’re done here.” His free hand journeyed up my thigh, causing a lick of arousal to flicker under his intrusive touch, where he found my hidden blade and tossed it near the door. My pretty .38 came next. Silas kept feeling, heating my skin with every swipe and squeeze as he searched for anything else I could potentially use against him. The best weapon I had couldn’t be discarded. He knew that just as well as I did. I watched amusedly as his eyes darkened when he broke my dress strap, and froze when the cool air hit my already hardened nipples. Biting the corner of my lip, I arched my back, breasts pushing against his chest.
“Silas, if you wanted to see them, all you had to do was ask. This was a favorite dress of mine.”
“Shut up.” He took hold of my chin, his grip so rough that it caused my teeth to break skin inside of my mouth. “I’m done with your games.”
There wasn’t a hint of weakness in his features. Not a twitch or hesitation. Was he really going to do it? I’d made peace with the possibility of death years ago, but staring at that very reality in the face was something else entirely. My throat became heavy as emotion burned inside my eyelids. I squeezed them closed. He wouldn’t get the privilege of seeing me vulnerable.
I heard him exhale a heavy breath as he pushed the gun deeper into my skin. A single shot rang out, and I winced but felt nothing. Another. And another. Followed by screams. Snapping my eyes open, I met his wide, confused stare. More gunshots filled the air, accompanied by the passengers’ panicked voices and shouts.
Silas clenched his jaw and tugged me to my feet before quickly slamming my body against a wall. “Who else is here?”
I shook my head, confusion muddling my thoughts. “No one…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Bullshit!” he spat, hand squeezing my neck. “Who did you bring with you?”
“I work with no one. It’s just me.”
Again, his gun was against my temple. And I was getting pretty fucking fed up with being manhandled by him.
Angry voices carried closer with each passing second. It was one thing to die by Silas’s hand, and it was another to do so by some random jackass.
“Listen, those men are about to make their way in here. So, you either kill me and die anyway, or we both fight like hell and live to kill each other tomorrow.”
His jaw tensed, breaths fast and heavy as he seemed to turn my words over in his mind. “How do I know I can trust you and you won’t just put a bullet in my back?”
“You don’t,” I said, eyes fixed on his. “You’re just going to have to trust your instincts on this one.”
“Fuck,” he finally said, letting me go. “You try anything, anything at all, I’ll fucking shoot you where you stand.” He reached into a small red bag, rummaging through its contents before removing a white t-shirt and whipping it at my chest. “Put that on.”
Pulling the shirt over my head, the sides of my mouth tipped into a smirk. “I knew you cared.”
Rolling his eyes, he slid my gun over with his foot.
The cabin suddenly went silent, and we both knew what that meant. Those men out there were looking for someone in particular. Uninterested in keeping hostages or loose ends. Melina would have mentioned if Cillian had dispatched backup. I felt strangely vulnerable, trapped, the sudden grip of suffocating claustrophobia snaring my heart.
