The woman's legs were tied together with rope, but Fletcher Kinney, perhaps finding it too bothersome, simply used the small knife from his pocket to cut through, letting those long, straight legs fall limp and then pulling them apart to rest on either side of his body.
Outside the window, the sun set behind the mountains, the light growing dimmer by the minute, making the pale skin inside the carriage appear even more ivory, like freshly fallen snow, irresistibly inviting footprints and ravage.
Fletcher Kinney glanced at his companion, whose eyes were bloodshot, and let out a scornful laugh, though he also felt fortunate to have gotten the upper hand first.
Amanda Smith, who had been unconscious, suddenly woke up again, as if sensing danger. She struggled with the legs that had been pressed to either side; Fletcher Kinney, caught off guard, failed to hold her down, and she broke free!
Fuck!
