bolt the door after him, and she did exactly that.
Then she stood in the center of the claustrophobic cubicle and let out
a blissful sigh because she finally had the room to herself and it was
so wonderfully quiet. She needed time alone to think about the future
and formulate her plans. Lord only knew, there was so much to be done
in such a short time.
She expected Cooper to be gone at least fifteen minutes and probably
more. The luggage compartment was three cars away, and once he'd made
his way there, he would have to search through the baggage to find
hers.
Yet, less than a minute after he had left, a knock sounded at the
door.
'Now what? ' she muttered, assuming that the marshal had thought of
yet another order to give her before he went on the errand. She forced
a smile back on her face, flipped the bolt, and opened the door a
crack.
The door seemed to explode against the interior wall, then bounced
back. She couldn't even scream. All she saw as she staggered backward
was the barrel of a gleaming black pistol. It was pointed at her.
She fell on the bench, clutching her bosom. Panting with fear, she
cried out, 'What are you doing here? ' In answer, the gunman rushed
inside and kicked the door shut behind him. He was dressed in a dark
business suit and wore shiny black shoes.
He didn't look like a murderer.
'Get up, bitch, ' he hissed.
She didn't move fast enough. He grabbed her arm and jerked her toward
him, his gun pressed into her belly. When he let go of her arm, she
tried to step back, shaking her head at him in a silent plea not to
hurt her, but he was indifferent to her fear.
'Please, ' she whimpered.
Her plea fueled his excitement. 'That's it, bitch. Beg me, ' he
crooned.
'I want you to beg.' He reached between them and tore the front of her
dress open to the waist, smiling when she cried out again. Before she
could cover herself, his hand was painfully squeezing one of her
breasts.
'No, don't do this, ' she whispered.
