Falling With Grace

The front door and the one in the back opened. Javier jumped into the seat beside me and another man in the driver’s seat.

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, my body stiff as he branched his long, muscular arm across the back of the seats.

Long strands of hair stuck to my neck, and my skin pebbled with chills.

“Sit back.”

“Where are you taking me?”

My back hit the seat with a sharp tug on my hair.

I groaned and rocked to the side.

“I said, sit back.”

The liquid in my mouth evaporated, leaving my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth.

Time dragged on as the vehicle moved through endless miles of road.

The rosary in my pocket pressed against my tight jeans, the suffocating material squeezing like a cinch over my thighs.

Tires whirred on the road as Javier typed away on his phone, his eye coming up to stare at me every so often, and a Mexican DJ spoke in Spanish so fast I could make out a singular word throughout his sentences.

A large adobe mansion with arches and curves towered into the sky as he drove the vehicle to a large black gate, which stood in stark contrast to the tan-colored house.

I pulled the blanket tighter over my shoulders and tucked it under my chin.

Why are they bringing me here?

Six armed men stood at the gate as it swung open, allowing our vehicle to pass through, their large rifles hanging over their bodies, the end of the barrel resting at mid-thigh.

The vehicle stopped in the round driveway, and Javier climbed out, dragging me along.

“Out.”

“Here?”

My neck cranked backward as I looked up to the second floor.

The manor overpowered Andrés’ compound on size and luxury.

Wooden beams stood tall with turquoise and cobalt tiles fixed into them. Matching terracotta walls surrounded the building where men stood with their rifles.

Javier led me toward the front door, my fist tight in the blanket tucked under my chin, my wet jeans weighing me down.

“Where are we going?”

“Wherever Elias wants you.”

“Elias?”

He opened the door with a glare and maneuvered me through.

The cooler air inside penetrated my blanket, causing my teeth to chatter and my feet to refuse to venture forward.

“I told you. I’m not here to babysit yourmamá. You have staff to do that.”

A woman with a Guatemalan accent stood face-to-face with Elias.