#10 Ominous Foreboding (Part III)
He was not done. “You misunderstand me. You see it was the smart slave owners who found more unique ways to hobble a thief. Some slaves were, after all, more important if they could run. But they wouldn’t. Not after the master was done with them.”
“I’m no thief!”
“Oh, but you are. You’ve not completed your job to the best possible outcome. This is what you will be judged on. This is what I was judged on. You got on this train without what you were sent for.” He tapped Thorn's apology letter against his bottom lip. His green eyes studied me. Abruptly he stood, tucked his newspaper under his arm and started down the isle.
I caught up with him only a few rows away. “I’ll get off on the next stop, go back and force Thorn to give me the journal.”
He turned to face me, his legs braced apart. For the first time I appreciated the sleek muscles of his body. His pants and shirt molded to him almost like a second skin. Here was another man my grandmother would have written great things about. Once she had said there were men who knew how to properly use a chair. I wondered if the man with the newspaper was one such man.
“It’s too late for that.” He said, “You’re going home, Ms. Applewhite. And you’re going to be hobbled.”
“I’ll run!”
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