27
ANTONIO
The guy was obvious.
I spotted him across the room of the dining car, drinking coffee. His jacket sagged, hanging lower on the side where he pocketed his handgun. He stood and attempted to hold the weapon in place with his right hand as it swung with his movements.
So much for my brief fantasy of taking Daphne to the private cabin, pulling her neckline down so her breasts popped into my hands, torturing her n*****s with my mouth until she told me what she was up to.
No such luck. Instead of fondling those succulent mouthfuls, I traipsed after this guy who kept patting his pocket like a proud father pats his kid on the head.
He ducked into the enclosure where the restrooms were and whipped his hand around the wall, pistol pointed towards us. “Get back!” I shoved Daphne behi
