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He opens his mouth to beg for mercy, but I’m not in the mood for it. I shut his mouth with a fist, and then another, and yet another until he’s not even able to talk. He’s too busy gargling his blood.
I don’t know how long I’m on top of him. Time doesn’t matter anymore. I know this is over, and I know Lorenzo isn’t getting away. I just want to punish him to the fullest extent for how much misery he’s put me through.
I lose myself to my rage, allowing all the tension and pent up frustration in my body to be released through the blows. The pain I inflict on him is my therapy, and I don’t care in the least how psychotic that makes me.
I already know I’m a monster, and I simply don’t care.
If you mess with Lola, you die. That’s the last thing Lorenzo will ever learn.
I only stop beating him once he’s well past dead and the train becomes deathly quiet. I assume everyone has left already, and I’m the last one here, like church on a Monday.
I climb off Lorenzo’s body, wiping blood from my busted knuckles onto the sides of my coat. Lola isn’t going to want to see me like this. I probably need to change and wash up before returning to her.
It feels like I’m in another dimension, the twilight zone, as I walk to the bathroom at the back of the train. Time hangs in the air, suspended completely as I rinse my hands off in the slow dribble from the bathroom tap.
I look at myself in the cloudy mirror, and I’m surprised to see how much blood there is on my face. I look like a lion who just finished gutting an antelope.
Something about my image bothers me, and I splash water onto my face to change it. I’ve never felt this way after a kill before. Maybe it’s just the idea of Lola seeing me like this, reduced to a primal beast instead of the man she wants to raise a child with.
For the first time, I’m something more than an animal.
I feel like a man.
27
Lola
Ican tell he tried to clean himself up, but I can still smell the mixture of sweat and blood on him. It doesn’t bother me as much as I thought it would, though. Having him back feels much more important.
I hold his face in my hands, emotions rising to the surface quicker than I can tame them. “I saw them coming out, and I didn’t see you, and I… I didn’t know what to think. I can’t lose you, Jasha. I don’t ever want to lose you.”
“I’m here. It’s okay,” he says, his voice rich and soft like a fur blanket around my shoulders.
“I know, but I was worried. Terrified, really. I heard gunshots, and then there was just nothing for so long,” I gush, still unable to believe I’m holding him again.
“I promised you something, and I’m a man of my word,” he says, maintaining a soothing calmness as a smile breaks across his face like sunshine.
“Thank you,” I say, tears welling up in my eyes. “Thank you, Jasha.”
“You’ll have plenty of time to show your gratitude when we reach Texas,” he says, his smile vanishing in an instant. In its place, stark determination takes the reins. “There’s a mess on board, but the control room is untouched. I think we should go there and start things up again.”
I don’t want to do anything but savor this precious moment with Jasha, but I will be relieved to be out of the snow and back somewhere warm. I’m cranking up the temperature on the way back.
I don’t care how much fuel we waste in the process. I’m done being cold!
My hands slip down from Jasha’s beautiful face, and I take his hand as he leads me back to the train. It still feels like dangerous is all around us, but it’s over. The peril has passed, and we’re emerging victorious.
I guess I should be excited, but all I can do is think about what Jasha said to me before he left.
I love you.
The words echo in my head endlessly. I wonder if they’re true, or if he just told me in case he died.
I have to know if this is as real as I feel it is.
“Jasha, I have to talk to you about something,” I say as we board the train.
He puts his hand over my eyes as he steers me toward the control room. “Not now, baby. Let’s get this train started.”
