Bad Boy (An Indecent Proposal) by J. C. Reed, Jackie Steele Read Free Book Online

‘self-defense.’
    “Hey,
didn’t you hear him? Where are you staying?” the left guy asked, repeating his
friend’s question.
    The alarm
bells in my head went off all at once, as my heart started to thump harder. I
had nothing to hide. I had done nothing wrong. And yet, here I was, being
harassed.
    Maybe this
restaurant usually attracted only local clientele.
    Maybe those
guys didn’t like Americans.
    Maybe women
weren’t supposed to sit by themselves.
    Heck, maybe
it was an offense that I didn’t finish my glass of wine.
    I shifted
uncomfortably in my seat and regarded them for a split second, unsure how to
deal with the situation. Finally, I decided I was just going to walk away from
a confrontation because, damn it, I had rights.
    “None of
your business,” I said through cringed teeth and tried to get up.
    “Answer his
question,” the cop said. His hand slammed against the table.
    I jumped
up, scared, and almost knocked over my glass of wine.
    Whoa.
    Did I
detect a hint of a threat in his voice?
    And most
importantly, what was happening?
    “Where are
you staying?” the guy asked again.
    As if I was
so stupid that I’d tell them.
    “I’m
staying with my fiancé and his parents, “I lied, trying to infuse some
confidence into my voice.
    “You heard
the American,” the cop said to his friends as his arm draped over my shoulders.
“She’s staying with her fiancé .” I
could hear the sarcasm in his voice. “There. Was it so hard to answer the
question?”
    I
swallowed. “Any other questions? Is this some kind of interrogation?”
    “Interrogation?”
He frowned. “Who said anything about an interrogation? We’re just having a
little chat.”
    “If you’ll
excuse me. I’m very tired.” I pulled away from the police guy’s grip a little
too forcefully. His eyes narrowed on me. After a short glance to his friends, a
pulse began to pound visibly in his left temple.
    Someone couldn’t
cope with rejection. Too bad.
    “You
gentlemen have a lovely evening.” I shot them a cold stare and headed out the
door, aware of the venomous looks piercing a hole in my back.
    Only after
I was outside, I dared to exhale the breath I didn’t even know I had been
holding. This could have ended badly, so I was glad that I was out of there.
Shaking my head, I started to walk.
    I couldn’t
wait to get back to the hotel.
    Night had
fallen and the streets had filled with tourists. Making my way back to the
hotel, I pushed my way through the gathered crowds. The moment I walked through
the gate I felt a hard grip on my shoulder.
    My heart
stopped dead in my chest. I turned sharply, a startled cry lodged deep within
my throat. But it wasn’t some random guy or a mugger.
    It was the
cop from before.
    Alone; his
friends nowhere in sight.
    “Did you
follow me?” I asked the police guy through gritted teeth, barely able to
contain my flaring temper.
    Who did he
think he was, stalking me?
    “Show me
your bag,” he demanded.
    “What? No
way. It’s my bag.” I clutched it tighter against my chest, instantly fearing he
might be about to rob me, even though that would make no sense. Why would a cop
rob me? Unless he thought I had lots of money, which I didn’t.
    “I said
open your bag now.” His hand went to his holster, and my eyes widened at his
threatening tone.
    “Okay.” I
spread out my palms. “Just relax, dude.” My fingers shook as I opened my
handbag, exposing its contents for all the world to see. “See. Nothing special.
I’m just a tourist. Not even a rich one.”
    He inched
closer to me and grabbed my bag out of my hands. I watched in horror as he
began to spill its contents on the street: my calendar, my lipstick, a mirror.
    “You don’t
call this nothing?” He picked up something white.
    A card.
    On it was a
stripper, or maybe not a stripper, but someone who was naked. And a number.
    I stared at
it, unsure. Where did I get that? I couldn’t remember.
    “Interesting,”
he said and flipped it