Falling with Grace

23. Grace

23

Grace

H e killed a man.

I paced my room, my hands in my hair.

Birds sat on the top of the roof, their soft melody falling into my open window as the breeze blew through my curtains.

My wide eyes greeted the morning sun with his lips pressed against mine, spinning in my head on repeat as though I were on a never-ending merry-go-round intermingling with Carlos' empty eyes.

What if he told Nadia?

Miguel was the only one who regarded me with the look Elias had given me hours ago. The distinction was that Miguel neither cared nor possessed control over the pain and suffering inflicted upon me; in fact, he even contributed to it out of some desperate and twisted compulsion.

Yet, I'd never kissed Miguel or entertained the thought despite what he did to me.

"Oh my god." I bit into my lower lip and tipped my head back, collapsing onto the bed, my feet brushing against the cool floor.

Why did I kiss him?

An ache gnawed at the edges of my consciousness, an unrelenting whisper that wove throughout the fabric of my psyche.

My fingers toyed with my lower lip, pressing its center and folding it in two.

Would she insist I go back into the shed?

A woman positioned next to a man in power held more influence than she realized. Unless, of course, she happened to be Nadia... She wasn't the type to be oblivious to the power she held at her fingertips.

A pinched pain settling along my breastbone .

I'm so stupid.

And then he rejected me.

I groaned as I rose, fixating on the door—the sole barrier between him and me, my stomach growling with a cacophony of popping and groaning.

What if he's angry?

Butterflies fluttered in my belly, entwining with the hunger gnawing at me.

I can do this.

The cold metal doorknob turned in my shaking grip, and the door swung open on its well-oiled hinges.

Black shoes, polished to a shine. Suit pants, creased with a sharp line down the center, led up to a glossy black belt embellished with a buckle and a black button-up vest covering his shirt.

I swung the door shut without sparing a glance at his face.

Why is he here?

Why does he have to stand right there at this very moment?

His knuckles tapped out a staccato rhythm against the wooden barrier. "Grace."

Elias' throaty voice caressed my skin, sending shivers cascading in waves. "Can I come in?"

Can he…

He's never asked before.

My breaths rushed in and out, my head swimming in a haze as I staggered toward the farthest corner of the room. I sank into it, my backside hitting the floor.

The doorknob twisted...

Such a damn fool.

I shouldn't have...

...and the door opened, granting him entry. He scanned the room from left to right until his gaze settled on me.

I yanked my sight downward, fingers toying with a solitary strand of jean fiber protruding from my knee, my rosary secured in my pocket.

He closed the door behind him, striding in my direction, and halted in front of me. His polished shoes hovered close to brushing against my toes as he crouched down on his haunches.

His large palms landed on my knees, halting my relentless picking. "Is this about what happened this morning?"

Heat flooded my cheeks, his touch grounding and electrifying, tethering me to the present moment. His chocolate brown eyes, a blend of softness and intensity, held mine.

I gnawed on my inner lip.

What would it be like to have him for a night?

Would he be kind or take like all the rest?

I shrugged, words abandoning me.

"I understand if it is." He sighed, his finger slipping under my chin, coercing my gaze upward. "Witnessing someone's death is never easy, especially in the beginning."

My stomach plummeted, a sickness that propelled my heart into my throat with a sharp pang.

He thinks it's about Carlos?

His thumb traced a path across my warm cheek. "When my papa died, I'd already glimpsed death a million times over, but he was particularly shocking, and not just because he was my papa." He paused, withdrawing his reassuring touch. "Do you want to know why?"

Elias flicked his tongue over his lips, setting my heart aflutter in my chest like a herd of wild horses charging toward the cliffside.

I gulped down the dense lump lodged in my throat and offered a subtle nod.

"Because I'd watched mi tio pull the trigger."

I frowned, my brows converging with an insistent urge to comfort him coursing through my bones. "What did you do to him?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. He's still on the run."

"I'm sorry. That's got to gnaw at you." My head met the corner wall behind me as I leaned back, my shoulders slouching. "Honestly, I'm surprised you haven't tracked him down by now."

He held up his index and thumb, keeping them an inch apart. "I'm this close. But the only one who knows where he's at is keeping his whereabouts close to her chest."

Air rushed from my lungs, my heart pounding in my throat, bile eating at the back of my throat.

Of course.

"But that's not why I came up here, Grace." His fingers grazed against my jeans, sending tingles down my thighs. "I wanted to apologize."

My eyes widened. "A-apologize? For what? "

He closed his eyes and shook his head before meeting my gaze again. "I shouldn't have killed him in front of you. For that, I'm sorry, but you have to know he would have died last night anyway."

"Apologies should never come with a 'but' attached."

A smirk danced on the corner of his lips. "You're right." He leveraged my knees as he pushed himself up to a standing position. "Are you coming down for breakfast?" He extended his hand, and I stared into the lifeline running through the middle, a tale Mom would recount before bedtime.

"I'd rather…"

"She won't be there. If that's what you're worried about."

I shook my head. "Who?"

"Nadia."

Tension crackled between us as our gazes locked. Fire prickled up my spine, neck, and cheeks. I breathed through my nose, his scent engulfing me, my sore rib twinging.

So he does know why I'm hiding…

"I don't…"

"She'll be here this afternoon. You can play hide and seek then if you wish." His winking smile broadened. "But hiding is for those who feel guilty." He seized my wrists, hauling me to my feet, my stomach lingering on the floor. His smile evaporated. "Do you feel guilty, Grace?"

The morning sunlight cast his features in a gentle glow, accentuating the furrow between his brows. I shook my head, our bodies pressed together, a liquid rush coursing between my legs.

"I didn't hear you."

"N-no."

His grip tightened around my wrists, and I suppressed the wince threatening to escape, the air between us congealing into a frozen capsule of time.

My heart thundered in my ears, the thready pulse matching the tempo of my shallow breaths. His grip magnified the blood rushing through my veins.

Elias released my wrists in a slow, deliberate motion as though choreographed.

"Rosa is awaiting you in the conservatory. She's got some tasks in the garden that need attention." He stepped away, and a violent, soul-wrenching tug went with him. He spun on his heel. "Don't slip your guard again." Leaving my room, he left the door wide open in his wake, the guard on the right glancing in.

I expelled the warmth from my cheeks, my lungs inhaling full pockets of air as if he had throttled the supply with his mere presence.

Straightening out my wrinkle-free navy shirt, I sauntered out of my room, casting a brief glance at my new guards.

Two men lounged beside the door frame, positioned across from each other, rifle straps slung across their shoulders.

The man on my right bore a scar down his chin and crossed his throat. His eyes were dark pools of agitation. The younger man to my left rose his bushy brows, his jawline sharp, and bristles of a fresh mustache shadowed his upper lip.

My gaze dropped to the floor, my chin dipping to my chest as I descended the stairs. The muffled thud of my footsteps formed a discordant symphony with the heavy clomp of boots echoing behind me.

Rosa lounged at the elongated wooden table, the harsh sun streaming in from the conservatory's glass walls and ceiling, casting her puzzle pieces into stark relief without a hint of shadows.

"Good morning, Rosa. You're looking ready to go this morning."

I sat in my seat beside her.

"And you look exhausted, mi hija. Have you slept at all?"

Carlita, the staff on duty today, stepped into the room, poured me a cup of coffee, and then walked away as if someone had summoned her without a word.

"It was a never-ending night." I lifted my coffee and savored a warm sip, allowing the robust aroma to dance on my tongue. "Elias mentioned you had plans for the garden today?"

Rosa nodded, fitting a puzzle piece into its designated spot. "There's weeding to be done and the final harvest to gather."

"I can handle that right away."

"Not just you, mi hija . I prefer things done a certain way, so I'll guide you through it."

I nodded. Any task that would keep me clear of Elias and Nadia today was a task worth undertaking. Even if it meant breaking my back in the process. "Then tomorrow we're making salsa?"

"Sounds right." She clapped her hands, then stood.

I trailed Rosa to the garden, sidestepping the patio and pool, the taste of him lingering on my lips, the dewy grass moistening my bare toes, causing a slight chill .

Rosa pointed to a rectangular raised bed filled with tomatoes and tall bushes of basil. "Let's start here."

I dropped to my knees, my jeans dampening with water droplets as I leaned over and dug my fingers into the soft, rich soil, my nails turning black.

Rosa spread a mat on the ground and knelt beside me, emitting a groan. "I'm not as young as I used to be."

I chuckled. "You're more agile than my grandmother was at your age. She was confined to her bed, and it shattered her spirit."

Rosa hunched over, gripping the sprigs of green weeds with her gloved hands and tossing them into a bucket beside her. "I've never been one to lie down and take it."

"I can see that."

The smile on my face expanded as Rosa rattled off the names of each plant in her garden, noting the intruding weeds. "These were my grandmother's seeds."

I arched my brows. "Do they last that long?"

"No." She chuckled. "The seeds came from the plants' mi abuelita planted nearly a hundred years ago."

"And then you'd collect the seeds from the subsequent plants?"

"Si." She nodded and flung another weed into the bucket.

"I never knew you could do that. I always thought you had to buy new seeds every year."

Rosa planted her gloved hands on her thighs. "You must learn these things in order to survive."

"I'm learning now."

Tearing out the final weeds from the planter box, we shifted to the next one, Rosa crouching alongside me. A drawn-out, plaintive groan escaped her lips before her knees touched the pad. "I'm not as young as I used to be."

I flashed her a reassuring smile. "That's what you've said. But you're handling it like a pro."

"These were mi abuelita's seeds." She leaned over, plucking the weeds on her side of the garden box while I cleared mine, my inner lip caught between my teeth.

"I'd love for you to show me how to harvest seeds when we're all finished."

"Of course, mi dulce ."

"I thought we had lunch plans?" Nadia's voice, sharp as shattered glass, sliced through the tranquility of the garden, hitting me dead center in the chest, its precision strike reminiscent of a heat-seeking missile.

My fingers stumbled as she approached Elias on the porch near the pool in his tailored suit, his hair styled to the side.

"Change of plans."

Her lips brushed against his cheek, and an unsettling swirl of nausea clawed its way up my throat.

"Relationships these days aren't what they used to be. When I was her age, we worked to keep our relationships." Rosa moved over to the next row.

"How do you mean?"

"They bicker more than they're civil." She shook her head, putting her concentration back on her work. "She's a lapdog, and he's a disinterested gorilla."

A burst of laughter erupted, drawing their curious gazes in our direction. My lips snapped shut with a swiftness that could rival the speed of light. "Sorry." I placed the back of my hand to my lips.

"No need. We aren't hiding."

She isn't …

Not that it mattered with the two large guards standing nearby like a lighthouse beacon.

I'd linger in this garden forever, day bleeding into the night, just to evade the harsh reality of my actions, to sidestep the searing sting of his rejection.

Elias and Nadia sauntered to the patio set, where Javier claimed the love seat. Elias claimed the chair, and with a glance oscillating between the two men, Nadia settled onto Elias' lap.

A stifled snicker escaped through my nostrils, my top lip bearing the brunt of my bite as I resisted the urge to let the sound break free. In my mind, she became nothing more than the fluffy lapdog Rosa had christened her.

Last night, it was me enveloped in his arms, our chilled bodies pressed close as I shivered. Yet now, it was her perched in the lap of the man she was on the brink of marrying.

What is wrong with me?

I dropped my gaze, snagging Rosa's eyes in my peripheral vision.

"He really is a good man."

I raised a brow. "Elias?"

" Si ." Rosa settled on her heels as she peeled off her gloves, then plucked a cherry tomato, popping it into her mouth. "Even when he was just a young boy. He always made sure I was looked after. Always aimed to please his papi."

She sighed, swallowing the tomato, while I cast a weed aside, my nails adorned with a layer of stubborn dirt.

"When he passed away, Elias made certain I had everything." She nibbled another tomato. "That's why he's marrying her." Rosa tugged her glove back over her weathered hands.

I frowned, a sheen of sweat building on my forearms as the sun peaked. "I don't understand."

"It had always been my dream for him to start his own family someday. But…" She shrugged, a sadness softening her eyes with a forced smile. "He became distracted."

"But he's going to have that family now, Rosa." I reached out, my hand hovering over her shoulder, careful not to soil it with the dirt that clung to my fingertips. "He's going to get married and have those little grandbabies for you."

She shot me a sidelong glance. "She's never going to give him that." Rosa shook her head.

I offered her a restrained smile, my gaze fixated on him. She sat in his lap, sharing laughter with Javier, his hands resting on the armrests.

"Don't judge him for the tough choices he's had to make. No man his age has been where he stands."

I diverted my gaze from him and gave Rosa a tight-lipped smile. "I'm glad you can see the light within him."

Elias Hernández is not a good man.

He'd taken me hostage and locked me in the dark to endure physical and psychological torture. Her failing memory must have blocked the moment she'd rescued me.

"What the hell, Elias?" Nadia's ear-piercing shriek shattered the stillness, snapping me out of my thoughts. My gaze shot upward to Elias, who walked through the French doors with Javier.

I frowned. "What just happened?"

Rosa shrugged. "After seventy-one years, I've learned to not ask questions."

Nadia huffed and growled to no one standing beside her, then our eyes clashed. Her jaw ticked to the side as she took her first step my way.

My stomach somersaulted .

Shit.

Her heels sank into the grass with each unsteady step she took, her ankles wobbling in protest.

"Rosa. Please have a conversation with your son about etiquette."

"I do not control my son just as Mother Mary didn't control Jesus."

I rolled my lips, controlling my smile.

"Do you know where they're going?"

Rosa shot a glance in my direction and pointed at the bucket. "Can I have that, please?"

Handing her the bucket, I stole a swift look toward the vacant French doors.

Elias, walk through those doors and handle this.

The doors stood empty, and I released my breath, returning to my task.

"Come help us, Nadia."

I raised my brows as Rosa invited her into my space.

No.

Please say no.

"I'd love to help, but I just got a fresh manicure and can't let all that money go to waste. Plus, I have a girls' night planned, and I can't show up dirty." She examined her nails after flipping her hand. "Make sure to let him know his behavior is unacceptable when he returns, okay?"

Rosa nodded, dismissing her with a casual wave of her hand. "Sure. Sure."

Nadia stormed off, her ankles just as unsteady as before.

Wiping the sweat from my brow with the back of my wrist, I tossed the last of the weeds into the bucket.

"Did you know these seeds belonged to mi abuelita ?"

"Is that right?" I offered Rosa a sympathetic smile. "I'd love to hear more about her."