Bad Boy (An Indecent Proposal) - J.C. Reed Page 0,46

car, Chase.”

He sighed, and then he pressed a button. “As you wish.”

Within seconds, the limousine came to a halt. As soon as the door opened, I jumped out and took off down the street without a glance back.

Chapter 15

The streets were cramped, so avoiding people wasn’t easy. I walked down the busy road with no idea where I was. A few taxis drove by. I ignored them all. The hotel couldn’t be far away, but I didn’t feel like locking myself up. I needed the walk to process Chase’s words. Everything inside my mind was a blur, but if I concentrated hard enough, I could hear my mom’s voice.

It had been on one of those days where she was lucid enough to talk and remember she still had a daughter. She’d brought me to my bed, a soft smile on her pale lips.

“You can never trust a man, baby girl,” my mom whispered. “Don’t make the same mistake I did. Don’t fall in love. Don’t trust them, because all men are the same. They betray you, hurt you, and take away your innocence.”

I glanced at her, assured I would always listen to her, the way I always did, and told her I would always love her—my words those of a child, trusting, truthful, unconditional.

At that time, I was only seven and had no clue about the world or love. She pressed me real hard against her chest, telling me how much she loved me and how often she had thought of running away with me to keep me safe; that she couldn’t deal with another loss.

Back then, I had no idea what she meant.

But now I wished I had listened; I wished I remembered more, if only to get a glimpse into the workings of her mind; to see her beautiful face once more, hear her voice, feel the soft touch of her hand on my cheek.

A stray tear trickled down my face as I forced my legs to keep moving through the busy streets of Acapulco. Inside me, chaos, pain, and more chaos roared, the remembrances of my mother and her immediate loss too heavy to bear.

I missed her. Missed her smell, her smile, her hugs.

In my memories, she was always pale, her face framed by beautiful dark curls, and her warm brown eyes always smiling. Her fingers were long and thin—a pianist’s hands as some would say—and she always smelled clean with a hint of lavender.

Conjuring her picture before my eyes made me think of how unlucky she was to die so young, how depressed she must have been to jump off the cliff. Or maybe it wasn’t depression but desperation that drove her to commit suicide, just like Chase’s dad drove off a cliff because he couldn’t provide for his family.

When Chase mentioned that my mom had been scared for her life, I knew that he was right. After all, my mother had locked me inside my bedroom on a regular basis and sent me away to boarding schools, as if the Waterfront Shore wasn’t safe. As if she couldn’t risk having me around.

As a child, I had always assumed her fear was all in her head.

But now?

I wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

Had Clint hurt her?

The possibility of him hurting her scared me. Still, as much as I wanted to, I just couldn’t image him being a violent man.

Sneaky and manipulative, yes.

But violent?

He was obsessive compulsive to the point of disliking to touch things and people. When I grew up, he had made it pretty clear that any physical proximity was out of the question. The only real hug he ever gave me was at my mom’s funeral and a few weeks ago, during his first visit in years.

Ahead was a market, the smell of food pungent. Hastening my steps, I tried not to inhale too deeply out of fear that my nausea would return with a vengeance. I passed the market and the rough buildings to either side. I was so engrossed in my past that I only heard the steps behind me when they were within arm’s reach. I turned quickly, almost expecting Chase.

But it wasn’t him.

A guy in his twenties, dressed in a blue shirt and jeans, looked down at me.

My heart lurched in my chest.

I stopped to rummage through my bag to grab my phone, ready to speed-dial someone while I stared straight at his face. I’d read somewhere that if you ever found yourself followed, the best way to handle the situation