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I cross my arms, pursing my lips at his obvious attempt to deflect how much trouble we’re in. “Give it to me straight, Jasha.”
“Well, it’s got a bit of an upward curve to it, but I can do my best,” he says with a wink.
I roll my eyes. “Get serious. You went to check the leak. Did you find anything?”
“A small drip,” he replies with a shrug. “Nothing major.”
I shake my head at how terrible he is at downplaying the gravity of the leak. “You know, I ran the numbers just now while you were out there, and we’re using twenty-five percent more fuel than we should be. If you’re trying to cut it close with how much fuel you put in the tank, we’re going to be ten-thousand tons of dead weight sitting on the tracks long before we reach Texas.”
The goofy expression melts off his face faster than taking a blowtorch to a crayon. “Is it that bad? The leak didn’t look that severe when I checked it.”
“It’s pretty bad. Are you sure it was just a small leak? You don’t use that much fuel on a minor leak.”
He drums his fingers against his chin for a moment, but ultimately says nothing. He’s too deep in thought, pointing to the control room and expecting me to follow him there as he speeds off down the hallway.
I groan, but I have no choice but to follow him. I want to be in Texas just as much as he does, perhaps more. Because he knows how to fight, and the only thing that’s going to happen to me if push comes to shove is that I’m going to get killed.
Jasha’s already in the control room, leaning over the controls like he knows what to do with them when I catch up to him. He’s still drumming his fingers against his chin.
“Any brilliant ideas?” I ask as I come up beside him.
“Start the train,” he snaps.
“I see that your politeness has come to an end once again,” I reply, pushing past him and sitting down in my chair.
“Sorry, I’m just thinking. I need to see the fuel level before we leave.”
“Doing some math?” I ask, shifting the train into drive and letting out a sigh as it shudders to a start.
“Something like that. How long does it take the fuel gauge to update?” he asks, keeping his tone a little softer this time. At least I have an influence on him now. When I first met him, he was completely out of control.
“It’s immediate. What you see now is what you get,” I reply.
He pinches the bridge of his nose and groans.
“Is it not enough?” I ask, looking at the fuel indicator. “We look okay on the fuel. It’s not full, but it’s probably enough.”
“Probably?” he asks, putting his hand down and giving me a look of disbelief. “Unless we put this train in neutral and roll downhill the rest of the way, that’s just not going to be enough fuel.”
“So, what are we going to do?” I ask, my throat tightening as desperation creeps in. “I thought you knew how to handle this.”
He laughs, but there’s not even a hint of amusement in his voice. “I know exactly how to handle this, but you’re not going to like it.”
I don’t like the look in his eyes. It’s cold, something I would expect from a calculated army general right before the most daring battle of his life. It’s not the look I want to see from the man who is supposed to protect me.
As though he can read my mind, he places his hand on my thigh and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “Nothing bad is going to happen to you. You have my word.”
“And what good is your word?” I ask, panic twisting my voice into a thin squeak.
“My word is my life,” he replies, his voice deep and commanding. “And I will protect you with it. You’re going to have to trust me on this one. There’s no other way out of this.”
“You still haven’t explained what we’re going to do. Can’t you ask Nikolai for more fuel?”
He sighs, shaking his head slowly as the train picks up speed. “We need more time if we want more fuel, and we’re all out of that. The Pessolano Family already has us in their sights, and they’re moving in. We’re going to have to be prepared for an attack.”
I try to fight the panic that’s rising in my chest, but it clutches my heart like a grenade, threatening to tear it out of my chest and toss it out into the frozen wasteland flying past us outside. I can barely breathe, and Jasha’s words do little to release the tension that’s petrified my body.
Terror has taken me hostage.
