42. Grace
42
Grace
T he door screeched open on rusty hinges, the high-pitched whine grating on raw nerves.
Silver-pointed, black cowboy boots blocked the light seeping through, Miguel's long legs breaking the beam.
"I'm sorry I couldn't make it here sooner. Andrés has been especially on edge these last few days." He kneeled beside me, the rotting corpses adding an extraordinary stench to the air. "I tried to warn you, cari?o ."
I blinked one eye, the other swollen shut, and groaned, the slightest motion causing liquid fire to burst from my neural pathways—every square inch of my body buzzed with agony. Dried chipping blood covered my forehead and upper lip, my swollen cheek pulsating and stiff.
"What were you thinking?" He peeled away a rigid strand of hair from my good eye as he hovered above me. "I gave you the chance at freedom, but you squandered it."
A huff escaped my cut lips. "I didn't…have a…c-choice." I pulled my arms across my belly. "His men caught me."
"You must have talked. How else would Elias know you were so valuable?"
I lifted my heavy, battered arm and tapped the branding tattoo behind my ear.
He nodded, his hands dangling between his legs as he squatted beside me and sighed, a water bottle clenched in one hand. "I see them so often, even I forget they're there."
"Must…be…nice."
He shook his head, a frown of disgust creasing his face. "I didn't want this for you." He opened the water bottle, the plastic crinkling in his grip as he tipped it.
The cool liquid trickled down the seam of my lips. I parted them, allowing the water to dribble in, taking small, measured swallows that soothed my parched throat. Each drop was a welcome reprieve from Andrés' prolonged torture.
"That's it." He cupped my good cheek, supporting my head as I lifted it. "Drink up. I'll try to bring you some food later."
Water slipped down my airway, and I coughed, my chest an infernal nook of suffering.
"Careful." He glanced out the opened door. "I'm not supposed to be giving you this."
I swiped the water away. "Then just let me die."
"I can't do that." He twisted the cap onto the bottle. "You know I hold a special place for you."
My stinging lips closed as I subdued a laugh. "Yeah. I'm everyone's favorite toy. Go…me."
He stood, his boots scuffing against the hard floor. I sat upright, cradling my aching belly.
Miguel frowned. "The cramping should go away soon."
A searing pressure pulsed through my skull, the room a dizzying whirlpool. "I guess he wants to keep me if he's replaced this." I tapped my arm where the small device sat under my skin, disrupting my hormones and preventing little mishaps from his eager men.
He shrugged one shoulder. "He's still angry with you. I don't think he's decided yet."
I snorted. " He's angry with me ?" My gaze skimmed over the bodies in the corner, then back to Miguel. "Let m-me go, M-Miguel. If you feel something for me, then help me leave."
He shook his head. "You know I can't do that." He moved towards the door. "That's a death sentence."
My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth as I swallowed. "You're going to die anyway once Elias finds me."
He raised his brows, shut his eyes, and shook his head as he drew in a deep breath. "Elias has been searching for Andrés for years." He rubbed his smooth jawline with the back of his knuckles. "He hadn’t found us then, and he won't now."
The ache in my belly morphed from mere hunger pangs and cramping to a malevolent sickness, a gnawing dread that coiled and twisted within me like a fanged beast poised to strike. My eyes stung. "He'll find me."
He will.
"Hope is good." He shifted the water bottle to his other hand. "It keeps you fighting another day."
"I'm not fighting anymore." I turned my knee and covered my breasts as I rested against the wall opposite of him. "I'm just waiting to die." My chin trembled as I stared at my naked legs covered in blackened old blood, a mixture of their barbarism and the side effects thereafter. "Will you remove them for me?" I nodded towards my dead friends. "And give them a proper burial?"
"I'll see what I can do." He rounded the open door and braced his hand on the knob. "I hoped for more for you, cari?o ."
I braced my head against the cemented wall. "I guess that's all you're capable of."
He stepped towards me, his jaw tight, his finger pointed. "You act so ungrateful for what I've done for you."
I snorted. "What have you…" I winced as I sat straighter. "Done for me?"
The lights beyond his dark, ruffled hair flickered, and I raised a brow.
"Killing those men who saw you at the border for one." He stepped towards me, the lights twinkling like midnight stars.
"Why would you kill them?"
He huffed. "Because they saw you alive after I'd told him you drowned in the river." His hair waved as he shook his head. "Don't you get it? I tried to help you the only way I knew how…the only way I could." His jaw pulsed, and the lights went out. "What the hell?" Miguel glanced back behind him into the open space.
Bang.
Rattatat.
"Fuck." Miguel shuffled around in the dark.
Men shouted as they waged war below. Boots hit the ground like maddening heartbeats.
My skin hummed with energy, electrifying every sense available.
"Stay here." Miguel slammed the door.
Where else am I supposed to go?
What's going on?
Is it Elias?
Did he come for me?
I rocked my head to the side, my good eye focusing on the door as footsteps rushed by my prison door, chaos ensuing…then silence.
My ears rang as though I'd sat in a soundproof box, the tinnitus screeching like nails on a chalkboard.
Death loomed overhead, to the side, and all around me, its black leaking tendrils swirling inside of me.
What's happening out there?
The room tilted as I moved to my knees, my legs wobbling beneath me, the bruised muscles spasming with my body weight.
I took one step forward, my hand sliding against the abrasive wall, then another, my fingertips dropping away.
The cold knob turned in my soiled palm, the mechanism groaning as the door creaked open...
It opened.
Darkness oozed out into the expansive walkway like spilled ink, my breaths a burden on my lungs.
I peered over the railing. An open-air courtyard stretched out below, reminiscent of the square design found in the heart of New Orleans. Two separate staircases descended into the courtyard—the lush vegetation swaying in the ethereal glow of the full moon overhead and the dead bodies strewn about bled into the sand, their black liquid glinting.
My hand shook against the metal banister, causing it to shake down the walkway. My trembling steps shuffled against the debris-covered ground. I stumbled, and every muscle in my sore body strained, causing an involuntary outcry.
I covered my mouth, my hand hovering above my cut and swollen lip, sweeping my good eye around the area. Bending over, I caught my breath, the short distance causing a marathon of exhaustion.
Nobody's around?
Are they all dead?
Who killed them?
Is Andrés…
I covered my breasts with my arm as I stood upright, my foot hitting the first steps down. I braced against the railing, taking each step one at a time until my toes dug into the dirt floor.
The world spun around me in a time-stopping tilt.
In front of me, a large archway led out of the courtyard.
Andrés stumbled backward through it, Elias on his trail with a pistol raised and pointed. The heels of André's cowboy boots kicked up dust around him, his nose dripping with blood.
I gasped, the sound cutting the tension like a hot blade in butter .
André's head snapped towards me, his lips curving into a wry, crimson smile dripping with malice. A chill swept through me, sending my entire body into a fit of trembles as I stared into the sinister gaze.
"Grace." Andrés's slimy voice slithered across my skin, leaving an unholy film in its wake. My naked flesh crawled with revulsion.
"Grace?"
I tore my gaze away from the devil incarnate and locked eyes with Elias. His expression shifted through a lifetime of emotions as he took me in.
"She's not yours." A rushed heat crawled up his throat, turning his face red, the cords in his throat bulging, and my feet stuck as though someone poured cement over them.
"She's not yours. She never was." Elias leveled his gun at Andrés, then turned his attention to me, my muscles trembling as if I'd fallen through the freezing waters in the arctic. "Come here, Grace." Elias stuck out his other hand.
My arms tightened around my chest. "You found me?" Tears spilled over, my nose running, and I sniffled.
"I found you, mi amor. "
I choked out a heavy exhale and stepped towards him.
Andrés's attention darted between us, his teeth bared. "You can't leave me, Grace. I own you." He lunged forward, his hands outstretched, and I stumbled backward into the stairs.
Bang .
" Ahhh. ?Qué chingados ?" Andrés fell to the ground, his hand gripping the back of his thigh. "You shot me, pinche pendejo. Ahh. "
Elias met him in three long strides, his boot grinding against André's leg, sending him into a writhing fit on the ground. His screams swirled around me, my shoulders hunching to find shelter.
"Grace." Elias held out his hand again. "You're safe now."
Safe ?
I sucked in rapid breaths, my gaze darting between both men. My feet itched to run to him, reckless heart ached to wrap my arms around him, but a vice kept me still in my tracks, my stance unwavering.
Not safe.
"I won't hurt you, amorcita . It's over now."
My dingy hand swiped the tears, blurring my vision.
"It's over? "
He nodded. "Come to me, please ." Elias blinked, his eyes glossy.
He's real.
He's here.
For me.
I stepped forward, keeping a wide berth from the man writhing on the floor, my tormentor, my captor, and wrapped my hand in Elias's outstretched palm.
"Jesus Christ, Grace." He pulled me into him and wrapped his arm around my body as he kept the gun trained on Andrés, his foot slipping off of his body, moving us away from him.
Agony branched out with every touch, causing me to shirk away from needed kindness with a yelp.
His arm fell away from me as he gave me another once over. "I don't even know where to touch you.
"You found me." I wrapped my arms around him and dug my nose into his rough flak, his spicy scent chasing away the death and decay staining my senses.
"Of course I did."
The emotional dam broke, and my shoulders shuddered against him, the tears curling beneath my chin.
"It's going to be okay." His hand skimmed my back as if he were afraid to touch me. "But I need you to do one thing for me."
I glanced up and wiped at my tears, sniffling in the process.
"Don't listen to him." Andrés grunted. "He's no better than I am. He'll get tired of you and abandon you. I've never abandoned you."
"Grace." Elias cupped my good cheek with one hand. "Turn around and face him."
My heart fizzled into a chaotic rhythm, his touch taming the venom coursing through me. "I can't." I shook my head and leaned into his touch.
"You must."
"Don't make me." My breath hitched.
"It needs to happen."
"She can't do it." Andrés let loose a boisterous laugh as though someone told the best joke.
"Don't let him win, amorcita ." Elias bent over and pressed soft lips to my temple despite the grime and filth I'd lived in. "Turn around and face him."
I closed my eye and inhaled, his essence transporting me to happier times as I turned, then faced my nightmare, my captor, the evil that etched itself on my soul forever.
"That's good." Elias lowered the pistol to my height. "Take it."
I shook my head.
"Do it—"
"She can't." He seethed, his teeth bared. "She's mine and she knows it."
I winced. "I'm…" My voice caught in my dry throat as a redness coated my vision, my hand sliding against Elias'. "I'm not yours."
"You'll always belong to me, puta ." He shook his head, a malevolent smile spreading across his face.
He bent behind me, his breath at my ear. "We'll do this together."
I nodded, my finger curling around the trigger.
"For the both of us."
"Grace. Don't do this." Andrés raised his blood and dirt-covered hands.
I took a deep breath as Elias placed his finger over mine, aimed the pistol, and squeezed the trigger together.