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Page 14


  “I have an excellent chef,” Guapo boasted, smiling as he sipped the drink in front of him, ignoring her rudeness. “She also mixes delicious drinks.”

  “Busy lady,” Grace commented. She hadn’t tried the drink, didn’t want her senses dulled in the slightest. Tony drank only from the glass of water, so she followed his example.

  Brusquely, Tony asked, “Are you going to tell us your plan?”

  Guapo smiled nefariously and set his drink down. “Abrupt, but you deserve an explanation, I suppose.”

  “We’d like one, yes.”

  “de Velazquez expects me to hand you over to him for nothing,” Guapo informed them. “However, you are a valuable commodity, and I plan to” —he waved his hand as he tried to think of the correct American idiom— “cash out on this lucrative opportunity.”

  “How much is he willing to give?” Tony asked as he set his fork on his plate.

  “We haven’t discussed the price yet. He’ll be here first thing in the morning,” Guapo explained happily. “He did a poor job of hiding his excitement that you were here, meaning he is willing to pay a high price for your return.” He chuckled jovially as he sipped his drink again. “I look forward to negotiating the deal.”

  “You can’t give us to him!” Grace exploded, banging her hand down on the table and startling everyone. Tony put his hand on her leg, but she ignored his warning. She leaned forward over the table to emphasize her point. “You seem like a decent person. You know what he’ll do to us if he takes us.” Tony took her hand, squeezing it in what she thought was a show of support.

  “What he does with you is none of my concern,” Guapo said nonchalantly, “as long as he pays my price.”

  Tony glared at the man. “What’s your price? Between us, we have rich, powerful friends.”

  Guapo lifted a finger and wagged it at his guests. “No, no, no,” he said with a smile. “You see, your friends aren’t high ranking members of an opposing cartel in Mexico. To give you to your American friends would make me dishonorable.”

  “Dishonorable?” Grace hissed, appalled by what his idea of honor seemed to be. Tony touched her arm to silence her, and every ounce of willpower had to be employed to keep her mouth closed.

  “What can we do?” Tony asked diplomatically, though his voice was hard with anger.

  “My advice? Go quietly and accept your fate,” Guapo said calmly, a finality to his tone.

  Grace released a soft sob that was part anger, part fear. “He’ll torture us.” She hiccuped and couldn’t continue.

  Guapo looked at her apathetically and resumed eating. Grace looked at Tony, who glared furiously at the man before looking at her. He wiped her tears and whispered consoling remarks to her, but she heard nothing but the sound of her heartbeat. In her mind, that sound became her baby’s heartbeat, and her control broke. She leapt up, throwing her plate across the room and dashing her glass to the floor. She pointed an accusatory finger at Guapo, who had lifted his hands to prevent his guards from taking her.

  “You son of a bitch! You’re sending us to our deaths and you don’t give a shit!” She panted as she screamed, her eyes fiery. Tony stood and tried to calm her, but she shrugged him off. “God will punish you. I see that cross sitting against your chest. Does it burn? You can’t repent from this, you piece of shit! Murderer!” She was poised to scream more when Guapo rose slowly. She breathed fast, her chest heaving.

  Guapo gestured to the guards. Two grabbed Tony’s arms, and one grabbed Grace, who immediately began to fight. She kicked and screamed and growled. Guapo walked calmly to her and waited for her to control herself. When she was quiet, scowling at him as if he were the devil, he lifted his hand and backhanded her. Her lip, which had healed somewhat, burst open, and blood flowed down her chin. Tony fought against his captors until one hit him hard in the stomach, dropping him to his knees.

  “Women do not speak like this in my presence,” he snarled.

  Grace spit in his face. “Fuck you.”

  Guapo raised his hand again to strike but dropped it as if realizing her game. He smiled slowly before chuckling, and then laughing fully. “Oh, you’re a tempting one! de Velazquez will not appreciate it if I beat you. I’m sure he has much fun in store for you, feisty tigress.”

  “I’ll fight him every step of the way,” she swore, beginning to fight the man holding her again. “Let us go! Let us run into the jungle! We escaped him. Would he be so surprised if we escaped you?” She hated the sound of pleading in her voice.

  “I can truly boast no one escapes me. Letting you go will tarnish my reputation,” Guapo informed her. He reached out and caressed her cheek until she jerked her head away from him. “Accept your fate, tigress.”

  “No! I’ll fight until he kills me,” Grace affirmed, her voice calmer though no less strong. “He’ll kill me before he has his fun.”

  The man shook his head like a teacher whose student still didn’t understand the simple lesson. “I think not.” He looked at the men holding them. “Take them to their room, where they will stay until tomorrow morning.” His eyes trained on Tony. “Tomorrow, your fate, and your girlfriend’s, will be sealed.”

  The men holding Tony led him through the bedroom door, released him, and walked out. The man holding Grace intentionally threw her forward and off balance so she would land hard on the floor. He smirked as the other two raised guns at Tony when he moved forward as if to attack.

  “Motherfuckers,” Tony mumbled, his desire to kill all three of them overwhelming him. They backed out as if afraid to turn their backs on him and closed and locked the door. He knelt beside Grace, who had sat up and was nursing her knee. “You okay?”

  “Scraped my knee on the damn carpet,” she mumbled angrily. He helped her to her feet and looked at her knee, which had a two-inch carpet burn on it. She stomped past him to the bathroom and looked in the mirror at her face. “He busted my lip again, dammit.”

  Tony stared at her. He’d worried this morning after her breakdown that she would fall to pieces easily, but she was too strong. She’d fall apart later, perhaps, but for now, her entire being was set to find a way out of the situation they’d been put in. Now that he knew she wouldn’t begin sobbing at the slightest harsh word, he let his anger surface. She’d been stupid to yell at the man, eliciting a response she should have known was coming.

  Taking a deep breath, he looked away from her and tried to think through the anger, to put it aside so he could think logically. He stood in the center of the room, letting his mind work through their predicament, when her voice interrupted his thoughts.

  “What do we do?”

  He glanced at her, watching her as she stared at him. Her lip was swelling and would be bruised, adding to the palette of colors on her face. Irritation flashed through him again. No man should hit a woman, but they were in Mexico, a male-dominant country where men beat their women with the regularity of the sun. She should have kept her damn mouth shut, he thought nastily, scowling darkly.

  “I would appreciate it if you’d stop staring at me like you’re gonna kill me,” she said sarcastically, tilting her head to the side.

  “Sorry.”

  “Hmph,” she scoffed, sitting down on the bed.

  Tony paced the room, searching it as he breathed through the ugliness that wanted to spew out of his mouth at her. He’d wondered earlier if the room might be bugged or have a camera, but he’d been too tired to do a thorough search. And now that he was looking, he saw nothing of the sort, meaning Guapo and his men had no idea what they were doing in their room. With that in mind, he went to the window and opened it.

  “What are you doing?” Grace asked. She’d thrown herself back on the bed after he’d begun searching and only sat up when he opened the window.

  “I’m checking these bars. If one is loose, maybe we can pry it off and get out,” Tony told her as he carefully and quietly rattled the bars and examined exactly how they were attached to the house.

  “I
’ll look over here,” she announced, hurrying to the other window a few feet from the one he stood in front of.

  As she opened the window, he sighed, straightening. “Don’t bother. Without tools, I can’t remove them, and I’d probably have to be outside on a ladder anyway.”

  “Why the hell would they put bars on the second story windows?” Grace asked hotly, her hands on her hips again. He was waiting for her to stomp her foot like a spoiled child.

  He looked at her, eyebrows lifted. “Do you really not know the answer to that question?”

  Her eyes narrowed at his cross tone. “I guess I do. No need to get snappy.”

  “Snappy?” he asked, his anger trying to take control of his mouth. “What a stupid word.”

  “Don’t be shitty,” she ordered, her lips pursing and her arms crossing over her chest.

  “I’m being truthful.”

  She exhaled loudly, a groan escaping with it. “Whatever.” She turned for the bathroom but stopped and asked, “Wanna tell me why you’re sniping at me?”

  “Not particularly.” Silently, he begged her to drop it, to go into the bathroom and put some space between them.

  “Then stop being such an asshole,” she quipped as she turned again.

  “It’s hard not to be an asshole when you can’t keep your damn mouth shut,” he jeered before he could stop himself.

  “Excuse me?” Her eyes were so wide they looked like they hurt.

  He gestured imperiously towards the door with one hand. “You exploded like some goddamned spoiled brat when a little bit of restraint could have helped us escape.”

  Her face filled with skepticism, she cried, “Escape? What the hell do you mean, escape? We were surrounded by men with guns! Unless you’re fucking Superman, I don’t think we were going to escape at dinner.”

  “I had a fucking plan, Grace,” he yelled, his ability to control himself lost. He pointed a finger at her like he was speaking to a child. “What did I tell you when I got you out of de Velazquez’s place? Do exactly as I say when I say it!”

  She slapped at his hand, which infuriated him further. “You said nothing about a plan! You were having a conversation with that murderer! Was I supposed to read your fucking mind, Tony?”

  “Read the room, Grace,” he scoffed, feeling like a prick since he was certain she had no idea what that meant. “Not one of those guards was paying attention while we were talking. One actually left the room, and the other was staring out the window. It would have been simple, if you hadn’t screamed at the man, for me to get a knife to his throat and force the guard to give me his gun.”

  She stared at him in an awed silence, and when she spoke, her voice was deadly quiet and impossibly slow. “How the hell am I supposed to know all that? I’ve never been in this kind of situation, Tony. How can you possibly expect me to know you were planning something I’ve only seen on a goddamned movie?” Her voice had risen as she continued until the last few words were yelled.

  Tony had watched her expression, watched her build into her defense, and he was fascinated by her. Her face was so expressive in its beauty and intelligence. And he had to admit she was absolutely right. He lifted his hands towards her, hoping his expression communicated his apology as much as his words.

  “Grace, I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have expected you to know my thoughts,” Tony said quietly, the apology sitting awkwardly on his shoulders. He reached for her hands, and she begrudgingly let him take them. He smiled at her reluctance. “I got mad when he hit you, and then the guy threw you to the ground, and that anger had nowhere to go.”

  “Except at me.” She sighed, half smiling at him. “I get it. I was freaking out because that asshole is just going to hand us over to die. And die horribly!”

  “I told you, Grace, I won’t let you die. And I won’t let our baby die,” Tony promised, leaning his forehead against hers.

  “I promise I’ll hold my tongue no matter how badly I want to lose my shit,” she swore quietly.

  The corners of his lips lifted a little in a half smile. “I’m sorry I blew up.”

  “Same here.” Grace laughed softly, sobering quickly as she blinked back tears. “What if I’m not really pregnant?”

  “I hope you’ll still date me.” Tony smirked, winking at her and kissing her lips gently, hoping to banish the tears he saw lingering in her eyes.

  “Of course.” They kissed again, letting it grow into a bodies pressed against each other, tongues dancing to the rhythm of their heartbeats, hotter than hot kiss. Grace pulled away and fanned her face, pretending to be hot. “Damn!”

  Tony laughed at her little joke. “I think we’d better sleep for a while. We’ll need to be well-rested for whatever tomorrow holds.”

  “No sex?” She pouted cutely, though he could tell she wasn’t serious.

  “Not tonight, hot stuff,” he said, leading her to the bed. “But when we get back, every time you want it, I’ll give it to you.”

  They curled up together, laughing a little. Neither slept for a while, though they didn’t talk. An hour or so later, he heard her quiet, even breathing, indicating she slept somewhat peacefully. His eyes were drooping as well, and though he wanted to stay awake, he couldn’t. They had used too much energy over the past few days, and he wasn’t as young as he used to be. As sleep captured him, he tried to think of a plan for the next day, but without knowing all the variables, there was no way he could prepare.

  He’d have to work off the cuff the next day and hope he could at least save Grace and their possible unborn child.

  Chapter 15

  Grace awoke in a war zone. Gunfire and screams jerked her from her slumber a few seconds after Tony, who was standing before she’d had time to sit up. Her breaths were pants, and her eyes were saucers as she stared at him, waiting for an explanation.

  “What’s going on?” she shrieked, terror filling her as another scream followed a volley of gunfire. “Oh, my God!”

  Tony put his finger to his lips as he returned to her side. “We don’t want anyone to know we’re here if we can help it.” He listened to the rapid Spanish they could hear through the open window. “Sounds like the compound is being attacked by a rival cartel.”

  “de Velazquez?” she asked, her voice a panicked whisper.

  He crawled to the window and peeked out. “Don’t know.” He looked at her as she rose. “Stay down! Crawl, don’t walk. A stray bullet could hit you.”

  With a quick nod, she crawled close to him and looked out. Floodlights were on throughout the compound, and she could see dead men sprawled here and there on the ground while others ran for cover, firing their weapons into the darkness at some unseen adversary. She covered her mouth with her hand as she gasped, but no one in the courtyard below would have heard her over the gunshots and yelled orders.

  “Oh, my God,” she whispered again, looking at him for reassurance. “What do we do?”

  Tony was silent as he plotted, and she let him think as she heard banging and slamming. “Sounds like whoever is attacking just broke down the door.” He hurried to the bedroom door, scuttling on his hands and knees, and tried to the doorknob with no luck. “Dammit.”

  “Should we hide?” Grace asked as her head snapped from side to side, looking for a good hiding place. “There’s nowhere to hide!”

  “No, that would be useless,” Tony agreed, shaking his head. “If they come in here, they’ll find us, regardless of which side wins this little battle.”

  Grace returned to the window when she heard the sounds of engines. Three vehicles parked directly under their window in the grass and several men alighted. From the back of the nicest one, a Cadillac, de Velazquez climbed out and looked around him, dusting himself off as if he’d gotten dirty during the fight. Grace turned and hissed at Tony, gesturing for him to come to her.

  “de Velazquez!” she all but mouthed, afraid to make any sound. “He’s here to take us!”

  “Guess he didn’t want to pay
for us,” Tony commented as he stared at the man who would kill them slowly once he had them. He slammed his fist into the floor as gunshots echoed right outside the door to their room. A couple of thumps could be heard immediately after. Grace heard pain-filled groans and felt like crying. “Dammit! We’re completely helpless in this fucking room.”

  As if on cue, the doorknob rattled and was obviously unlocked from the outside. Simultaneously, they turned with trepidation to stare at it, but it didn’t open. More gunfire, another scream, and the thud of a body hitting the floor. They looked at each other, and Grace mouthed ‘what the hell?’ He put his fingers to his lips and walked to the door. She jumped up and followed him, her body practically plastered to his back. He tried the door, which opened easily. He closed it again and looked down at her. He put his hands on her shoulders and leaned his head close so he could speak quietly.

  “Grace, we’re getting out of here, but I have no idea what’s going on outside this room,” he warned, his voice deadly in its seriousness. “You have to do what I say when I say it.”

  “I will.”

  “When I peeked, I saw a couple of dead bodies. You’ve seen one before, just not up close,” he told her. “You can handle this. Just try not to look, okay?”

  She nodded her head so fast her neck hurt. “Okay. I’m ready.”

  He smiled reassuringly at her, though it looked more like a grimace to Grace. “We’re getting out of this, I promise.”

  She nodded and braced herself for whatever was on the other side of the door. I’ll definitely need therapy if I survive this shit, she thought as she watched Tony open the door and look out. She tensed when he did, but he didn’t withdraw his head from the threshold. He stuck his head further out and looked in both directions. He nodded to her, and they slipped out the door.

  Two bodies were near the end of the hall close to the stairs, riddled with bullet holes. Grace recognized one of them as one of the men who had forced them back upstairs earlier that evening. She turned her head away, hoping they wouldn’t go in that direction, and her wish came true. They stayed close to the wall to avoid being seen over the balcony that opened into the foyer of the home.