Falling With Grace

His jaw pulsed again.

“Or I don’t tell you what you want, and you leave me here to ‘entertain’ your men.” I huffed, tearing my sight from him.

“Fine.”

Footsteps led out of the room, but I didn’t have the heart to watch him leave. I slouched, scraping my back against the wall as I slid down.

“Don’t sit.”

I jumped as his silhouette moved toward me with a determined step, my chain piercing the silence.

“You have no reason to trust me, Grace, but I don’t wish to harm you further. I just want to find him, and you’re the only living soul who’s been as close to him as you were.” He stooped down, unlatching the chain from my ankle. “Help me, help you. Tell me where he is.”

He stood and towered over me.

“You want to know why I’d rather die than tell you where he is?”

Elias nodded, the heat of his frame chasing away the chill rushing through me. “As if I haven’t been asking that very question…”

“You don’t get it.” I shook my head. “If Andrés catches even the faintest hint you’re coming, he’ll run.”

“He won’t get the chance.”

“Why do you thinkthere isn’t a single slave, besides me, that survived him?”

He shrugged. “I always figured it was because he grew tired of them.”

“No.” I gave a derisive snort. “It’s because when his enemies get close, he tucks tail and runs, but before that, he lines us up, executing every single slave in his compound.” I swallowed, a thick lump forming in my throat. “That’s why I won’t tell you where he is, because they are still there because of me, and I’ve already gotten enough people killed.”

“And you know this, how?”

“That’s the privilege of being his favorite.” My eyes burned as I hung my head, my feet shifting beneath me. “I got to watch him butcher my only friends.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you.” He blew out air from puffed cheeks, his hand brushing against my face. He wiped the tear rolling down with his thumb. “What if I told you I could help them?”

“I don’t trust you as it is…” My nails dug into my forearms and crossed over my belly, the temptation dripping from his lips sweeter than the devil whispering on my shoulder. “What makes you think I’d trust you to help those people, thosekids, just because I asked?”

“Because I have the means to do so.”

I snickered. “I thought I’d met men with big egos, but yours takes the cake.”

My nails dug in deeper as his eyes darkened, his shoulders squaring, casting me in shadows.

Had I gone too far?

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

He stepped closer, his hand smacking against the hard wall next to my ear with a cold, fleshy slap.

I gulped, my stomach falling to my toes, my blood trapped behind my ears in a frantic rhythm.

Jorge would tell me stories of the men bending bodies into crude positions as they stuffed them in burlap sacks or barrels, then either tossed them into the Gulf or… a well. They’d never be seen or heard from again.

I inclined my head, my chin quivering as I uncrossed my arms. Shifting, I positioned my hands behind me, wedging them between my butt and the unforgiving, frigid wall as I’d been taught.

“Don’t do that.” His breath touched my cheeks, his tone low and soft. “Don’t lower yourself like that.”

I glanced upat him through my lashes. “How do you want me then?” I sucked my lip between my teeth.