Saving Grace

Grace was
staring into her grapefruit letting the past several days sink in.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> She came to Mexico to get away from one man
and wound up in the arms of the most unlikely of people.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> She chuckled to herself.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> This isn’t like a movie, my ass.

“Gracie,
you all right?” Sands asked.

“Hm?”

“You’re
quiet over there.”

She
smiled. “Sorry.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> You know what?”

He smiled
back at her. He always seemed to know
when she was smiling – it reflected in her voice. “What?”

“I hate
grapefruit.”

He shook
his head. “That was…random.”

“No, it
wasn’t. They give you grapefruit with
every breakfast and every time I think that it’ll taste different, but
nope. Same disgusting thing every
time.”

“Maybe
it’ll grow on you – I did.”

Grace
blushed. “Well, you have a very unique
flavor.” She reached across the table
and took his hand, then traced lazy circles in his palm.

Sands
smiled knowingly. “Energy’s back up,
isn’t it?”

“Well, we
should say goodbye to this country in the proper fashion, shouldn’t we?”

“A personal
best,” he chuckled.

“What is?”

“I’ve
totally corrupted you – take away the couple of days where we weren’t sleeping
together and I did it in less than a week.”

Grace
smiled, shaking her head at him. “And
you’re damn proud of that, aren’t you?”

“Who
wouldn’t be?” He stood up and Grace
followed suit. Automatically, their
fingers laced together and they made their way out of the restaurant.

Upon making
it inside the elevator, Sands gently pushed Grace against the wall, letting his
lips and tongue assault her neck. A few
days ago, Grace would have pushed him away, insisting that their behavior
wasn’t appropriate, but now she pulled him close to her and nipped at his
earlobe.

“Promises
of what’s to come?” she purred.

“That and
more,” he whispered.

The
elevator doors opened and they exited, slightly less cautious than they’d been
over the past couple of days. Grace
reached into her purse to grab the room key when Sands grabbed her, spinning
her away from the door; he had heard the cocking of a gun.

“Jeffr…”style="mso-spacerun: yes"> She nearly choked on his name as she saw a
bullet hit their door. She then watched
as her lover pulled out his gun, his body shielding hers.

“Open the
door, Grace,” he said through gritted teeth.

She once
again dug for her key, but caught someone from the corner of her eye –
Michael. Instead of a key, she pulled
out the gun Sands had given and pointed it at Michael.

“You won’t
do it, Grace.”

Sands
turned around yet again at the sound of Michael’s voice.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> “Fuck,” he said under his breath.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> “Gracie, where’s the other one.”

“I…”

“Put it
down, Grace,” Michael said, “before I make a mess of your fuck toy.”

“Michael
what’s the matter with you?”

“I don’t
lhim,him,” Michael said with a smile.
“I tend to get rid of things I don’t like. After thinking about it, I wanted to take care of him
personally.”

Sands
raised his gun, but before he could fire, Grace saw the other man.style="mso-space yes yes"> She pushed Sands out of the way – the bullet
intended for him hitting her in the back.
From his place on the floor, Sands fired, hitting the man who had shot
Grace – only he was unaware that she was hit at all.

“Jeffrey,”
her voice was barely a whisper. She
crumpled to the floor. For the first
time in Sands’ career, he was almost unable to comprehend what was
happening.

“Gracie?”style="mso-spacerun: yes"> He rolled over, forgetting all about
Michael. Could he have seen Michael’s
face, he’d have seen a mixture of horror and satisfaction.

“Jeff…”style="mso-spacerun: yes"> The word turned into a gurgle.

Without
another thought, Sands got up. He could
hear Michael’s ragged breath.
“Fucker!” Michael’s feet
shuffled and that was all he needed. He
shot once, hitting the man’s shin, knocking him to the floor.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> That wasn’t enough.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> He climbed on top of Michael hitting him
several times in the face. He had a
bloodlust coursing through his veins, but couldn’t let himself kill him.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> No, he’d rather see him put in a special
part of a prison…where the guards tended to ignore the goings on.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> If they wouldn’t put him there, then
he’d find a way to kill him.

Sure that
Michael was out cold, he returned to Grace.
“Gracie?” The hallway was now
filled with people. “Gracie?”style="mso-spacerun: yes"> His hand went to her face.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> He felt the blood trickling from her
mouth. “I can’t see her,” he called out
to whoever cared to listen. “I can’t
see her! Where’s she hit?”

“Her…her
back I think,” a woman said, her voice timid.

Sands
reached under her, finding the wound after a moment of searching for it.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> Warm blood covered his hand.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> “Jesus…”

“Sands?”style="mso-spacerun: yes"> Harold’s voice rang down the hallway.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> “What the hell happened here?”style="mso-spacerun: yes"> He nearly tripped over the first shooter’s
body.

“Help her!”
Sands screamed, his voice desperate.

“Sands…”

“Fucking help
her, Harold!”

Harold
quickly pulled a walkie-talkie looking piece of equipment from his jacket and
asked for immediate medical assistance.
After he was finished, he knelt at Sands’ side.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> “Is this Ms. Milano?” he asked.

Sands
nodded. “Go cuff the fucker over there
before he wakes up.” Harold got up,
doing as Sands asked. Sands then ran
the hand not putting pressure on Grace’s back across her face.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> Her eyes were closed.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> “Gracie?
Can you hear me?” He knew full
well that she couldn’t. He understood
that she was unconscious, but the words came out of him anyway.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> Paramedics soon rushed down the hallway,
taking Grace from his arms.

style='mso-tab-count:1'> I’ll fucking napalm this country
if she dies…