Chapter 6 Grace
GRACE
Ithink I might faint.
There's too much stimulation. Inside me, outside me, everywhere.
There's a fire inside my veins. It's spread through all of me like a sickness I have no control over. I know that what I'm experiencing is just the effect of the drug, but I've never experienced this type of yearning in my life.
It only amplified when I saw him—the tall, handsome stranger in the crowd.
It was something about the way he looked at me. There was desire in his eyes, but it was more than lust. Whatever it was, it fanned the flames of this need inside me.
"Sold," the auctioneer announces, snapping me out of my current state.
Before I can fully comprehend what just happened, chaos erupts.
Armed men in uniform surround the arena. They hold shields in front of them as they close in on us. German Shepherds are running alongside them as warning shots are fired.
"Carabinieri! Non muovetevi!" A male voice comes through a megaphone. "Carabinieri! Don’t move!"
Everyone is initially caught off guard, but madness ensues. People start running around like headless chickens.
"Grace, quick." A hand wraps around my arm. "Come with me."
My gaze is still unfocused as I look up to find Sarah standing before me.
"We have to move fast," she says, her eyes wide.
The shots are deafening. It feels like each bullet is aimed at my eardrums. I'm filled with adrenaline so potent that it overrides the effect of the drug.
I follow her.
We hit the ground running. Hot air beats against my face as I move.
A mad laugh tears from Sarah’s lips. She glances back at me.
"I should have done this ages ago," she says.
The armed agents see Sarah's rags and my sheer dress. They reluctantly let us slip through their barricade.
My feet slow when I see where she's taking me. There's a network of tunnels built into the outer edge of the stadium. That's where we're headed.
I hesitate.
It's dark inside those tunnels. I don't want to be shrouded in darkness again. As long as the sun is shining down on me, it feels like everything will be okay.
"What's wrong?" Sarah asks, turning around to look at me.
"I don't want to go back in there," I say, struggling to keep my breathing even.
"It's the only way out," she says.
She’s probably right, but I don't know how to tell her that I'm not sure if I completely trust her.
I've been deceived before by people who were supposed to care for me. Before I can say something, a shadow falls over us. For a moment, I think it's the clouds, but that’s not what this is. Someone is standing behind me.
I glance over my shoulder.
It's the handsome stranger. The one whose eyes felt electric on my skin. Whose attention made me restless between my thighs.
There's a storm of desire and anger burning in his eyes now.
"Where do you think you're going, Grace?" he asks.
When I hear his rich voice, I forget where I am. I forget what brought me here. I forget myself.
Sarah snarls from behind me. She lunges at the man, holding a gleaming knife in her right hand.
"She's not yours to take," she screams, a perfect picture of female rage.
His large hand encloses her wrist. He doesn’t break eye contact with me. The knife clatters to the ground.
"I disagree," the man says. "She does belong to me."
Another piece of my heart unravels. I don't understand why this man has such an effect on me. I don't understand why I don't hate him like I should.
And his scent. I have the sudden urge to get closer just to fill my lungs with more of him.
"I don't belong to anyone," I say. "Not anymore."
"Let go of me," Sarah snarls.
Instead of dropping her wrist, he twists it. It's not to hurt her, but to read the tattoo on the inside of her wrist.
"You're one of the servant girls," he says.
"She has a name," I say.
His whiskey eyes return to me. I can't help but notice the flecks of amber in them.
"Loyalty," he says. "It's a quality I admire. Unfortunately for you, I now know exactly what your weakness is."
He pulls a gun from his holster and presses it to Sarah's head.
Oh my God.
He's a monster.
"Let go of her." My voice comes out much stronger than I feel inside.
"I won't hurt her as long as you cooperate," he says.
The gravel in his voice makes my core pulse with need. The timing is inconvenient to say the least.
"Don't listen to him, Grace," Sarah says. "Run for your life. The officials are going to catch him soon anyway."
My friend's words bring me back to reality. I fight through the hunger clawing at my insides.
"I'm not leaving you with him," I tell her.
There's a round of gunfire behind us. The man glances over his shoulder for a fraction of a second before returning his attention to me.
"The tunnels," he says. "Now."
He takes a step toward me.
Something crackles to life between us. I remind myself it's just the aphrodisiac running through my veins.
But whatever I just felt, I know that he felt it too.
I can see it all over his face.
Before he can hurt Sarah, I move toward the dark entrance a few feet before us. It's nothing but a black void. My heart starts racing as I get closer to it.
I step inside. The inky dark pierces my mind. I know the fear is all in my head, but it feels so real.
"Keep walking, Grace," he says. "I don't have all day."
"Do you have a flashlight?" I ask.
He turns on his phone’s flashlight. It's several degrees cooler inside these tunnels. I can make out the gleam of spiderwebs along the walls.
I steal another glimpse of him.
The flashlight casts shadows all over his face. He looks like the Grim Reaper who's come to collect souls.
There's another sharp tug inside my core. My nipples turn into painful buds that crave stimulation. My gaze grows unfocused.
"You really need to stop looking at me like that, Grace," he says.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I say.
His eyes dip to my parted lips. "I think you do."
Hate. I'm supposed to hate this man, not feel this open curiosity.
Sarah whimpers.
Once again, her presence snaps me out of the spell.
"Is it really necessary to hold a gun to her head?" I ask. "We're already doing everything you're telling us to."
"Don't get it twisted, little bird," he says. "You take orders from me, not the other way around. Now, keep walking."
His words are hostile, but he drops the gun.
I notice that he doesn't put it away, though.
I notice other things about him, too.
Like the sharp cut of his jawline. And the way his eyes seem to burn every time he looks at me. I also notice that he hasn't once let his gaze wander down my body.
I'm not foolish enough to call him a gentleman, but I can't help but think that he's not as bad as he seems.
As we move down the tunnel, the walls close in on us. At first, I think it's a trick of the mind, but it isn't. The passageway is getting narrower.
It's wide enough only for one person.
I glance back at the man again. He's walking at an angle because his shoulders are too broad.
"Keep walking, Grace," he says, gritting his teeth but not looking at me.
"What's going to happen to the other girls?" I ask him.
"That's none of your concern," he says.
"You're an asshole," I say, surprising even myself.
"Oh, you have no idea," he says. "Now keep moving."
His words are supposed to chill me, but I don't feel any fear around him. It's like my body knows something my mind doesn't. For whatever reason, I've decided to trust this man.
But then again, I'm heavily drugged by an aphrodisiac, so I'm not of sound mind right now.
I'm sure the fear will trickle in once I regain my sanity.
I see a sliver of light in the distance. It gets larger as we approach it. I think it's the exit door.
"Get behind me," the man orders.
Without waiting for me, he moves to stand in front of me, bringing Sarah with him. He's so tall that my world is shrouded by darkness once again.
He taps his ear, where he’s wearing a small Bluetooth device.
"Is the car ready?" he asks.
A second later, he pushes the door open all the way. I'm blinded by the afternoon sun. A Cadillac Escalade is waiting for us.
I glance down at my sheer dress. In the bright sunlight, it doesn't leave much to the imagination.
The man shrugs out of his suit jacket and wraps it around my shoulders. I'm surprised by the gesture. My relief doesn't last long because I can smell another woman's perfume on it.
Burberry Her.
My heart burns with a foreign emotion. It takes me a moment to place what it is. Jealousy. What I'm feeling is pure jealousy.
He doesn't wait for me to respond. He leans down and scoops me into his arms, picking me up like I weigh nothing. My heart nearly explodes.
He smells as good as he looks, and it does strange things to my body again.
"Wait," I say, trying to get my mind to focus. "I'll come with you, but please let Sarah go."
"I never said this was up for negotiation," he replies.
I clutch the collar of his shirt, forcing him to look at me.
"Please," I say. "It's me you want, not her. Let her go."
Locking eyes with him feels like succumbing to gravity. We've been orbiting each other, and now I'm being sucked into a black hole.
The drug in my veins is distorting everything. The truth, my thoughts, my sanity.
Before I know what's happening, he throws me to the ground. He flattens his body over mine.
Scents war in my head.
Smoky oud. Hydrangeas. Sea salt.
But all of it is overpowered by something far more nefarious—the dark, metallic tang of blood.