Grace cuddled closer to Tony, waking up slowly from the nap they’d decided to take. She’d made a great joke about not being exhausted before they died and had laughed almost manically. He had looked at her strangely and asked her if she was okay, which had caused a torrent of tears to erupt that would last for several minutes. Sobbing hysterically, she had fallen to her knees and let the emotional roller coaster that had been her life for the past week win the battle she’d been fighting. Tony had stared at her for a moment, then knelt beside her and held her, rocking her as she wailed.

After the sobs had subsided, he had lifted her off the ground as if she weighed nothing and laid her on the bed. He’d crawled in beside her and pulled her against him. He held her until she fell asleep, and when her eyes opened, hours had passed. She rolled over and looked at his watch, which he never took off, and realized they had twenty minutes before they would be called for dinner.

“Tony,” she whispered, shaking him gently. “We have to get up. It’s almost time for dinner.” He groaned and rolled over, stretching and making a noise reminiscent of an elephant trumpeting his success. Grace laughed and pulled away quickly, holding her ears. “Jesus, you’re loud.”

“Sorry. My muscles have to be stretched after a good sleep,” he said with a smile as his eyes raked across her bare breasts. “Those are a beautiful sight to wake up to.”

Grace glanced down at herself. “They are kind of nice, huh?” She met his eyes and smiled, winking, her earlier breakdown a thing of the past. Sleep had dulled the panic, for the moment.

“Confidence. I like it,” Tony joked as he pushed himself out of the bed to dress. “We should be dressed before they come up to get us.”

She frowned, wishing they were in a luxurious resort and she’d look outside and see the ocean. Instead, reality punched her in the gut. She rested her hand briefly on her stomach, which gurgled hungrily. Tony caught the movement and sat down again, laying his hand gently on her belly.

“Don’t worry, Grace. We’ll find some way to get out of this shit,” he promised. “And if you want, I’d love to date you while you’re possibly pregnant with my baby.”

She giggled like a teenager and kissed him. “You keep making me laugh in this horror. Of course I’ll date you.”

He smirked. “Get your cute ass up and put some clothes on it.”

She hopped up and found the dress chosen for her, which he had left lying on the back of a chair. She held it up and stared at it, appalled. “This isn’t going to fit!”

He looked around as he pulled the pants on, struggling to get the tight pants buttoned. “What? It looks like your size.” She grimaced, and he said, “My clothes are tight too.”

Grace scoffed loudly as she pulled it off the hanger and tried to find the tag. “It’s actually a size too small. It’ll be tight as shit.” She looked around and asked, “Did you say there are undergarments?”

“Um, there are for me. For you, there’s this.” He held up a tiny, lacy thong, trying not to smirk at her.

She yanked it out of his hand. “Jesus! I might as well have nothing on!”

“Well, as much as I like that idea, I doubt it’s for my benefit,” he groused, deep frown lines on his face taking the place of the smirk.

Grace cleared her throat, her face hardened in a sneer. “Son of a bitch. This is ridiculous.” She jerked the scrap of cloth up her legs. “I never wear thongs!”

“You should,” Tony jeered, staring at her ass. “I like it.”

She looked over her shoulder at him staring smugly. “When we get back, we’ll go panty shopping. Is there a bra?” Tony shook his head, shrugging. “Fuck. Okay then, for now, I’m going to bitch about this.”

The dress was so tight she felt like a prostitute. It barely reached the middle of her thighs, and because she was braless, she felt like her breasts were going to leap out and attack anyone who stood too close. She wasn’t a buxom woman by any means, but she certainly wasn’t lacking. She tossed her hands out to her sides as she stared at herself in the mirror.

“I look like a hooker!” she cried, horrified by her reflection.

“I’m sorry,” Tony said, his eyes traveling her body. “But damn, I hope you get to take that dress home.”

“If not, we’ll buy one when we go panty shopping,” she hissed furiously. “I can’t believe this.”

A knock sounded at the door before it was unlocked and opened. Two different men stood on the threshold, waiting for them.

“No shoes?” she asked Tony quietly while they waited.

“Not for either of us, and they took ours when we were in the bathroom,” he whispered as they left the room. “A further hindrance to our escape.”

“Shit.” She clasped his hand as they were led to a dining room the size of a school cafeteria. The table could seat at least ten people, though only three places were set. Guapo was seated at the head of the table, and the places set were on either side of him, meaning she wouldn’t be sitting next to Tony. Rather than accommodate their captor’s wishes, she sat on Tony’s left, a small display of defiance, as far from Guapo as she could.

The man raised an eyebrow at the slight but said nothing. He gestured to a servant, who moved the place setting to Grace’s chosen spot. She wanted to think she’d won a minor battle, but she knew better.

“Good evening,” Guapo said after the servant had moved away. “Have a good afternoon?”

“Better than expected,” Tony answered, taking the lead.

Grace was content to sit without speaking, but their captor included her in the conversation. “Ms. McIntyre, you look lovely.”

“I look like a whore,” she stated baldly, staring at him. “Shoes would have been nice.”

Guapo laughed uproariously, shaking his head. “You are a treat, bonita. Are you hungry?”

“Very,” Tony replied for her.

Guapo’s eyes shifted to him, and he smiled. “We’ll eat and discuss your fate.” He clapped his hands, and three servers entered from a door at the back of the room bearing trays with plates piled high with food. Each person had his or her own server, who placed drinks, cutlery, and two plates of food in front of them. Grace’s stomach growled loudly, but she didn’t touch her food or drink until Tony did, unsure if it was safe. She didn’t want to be drugged again.

As they ate, Guapo spoke. “Your escape from Tomas de Velazquez has circulated throughout Mexico.”

Grace was surprised, but Tony didn’t seem fazed and continued eating after grunting a response. Grace asked, “Why?”

“No one ever has,” Guapo stated, using his fork to point at her plate. “Do you like your meal?”

She glanced down at the food—chicken with a sauce and melted cheese, steamed veggies, and flavored rice. Using the knife, she sliced off a piece of chicken and placed it in her mouth. Around the food and with intentional bad manners, she mumbled, “It’s very good.”

“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.