The Agreement (An Indecent Proposal)

by J. C. Reed

  Refusing to marry Chase would be stupid. All my hopes, my dreams, my wish to be free of guilt, would dissolve into thin air, just like the bubbles in my glass.

  She was right, as usual. Chase had offered his help, and he was making it so easy for me. I had already told Clint about our engagement. The first few steps were done, and Clint was now spying on us to find out if we were determined to carry out the wedding part. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. If we didn’t consummate the marriage, it could be annulled in less than twenty-four hours after I got my hands on the letters. Chase would be free and so would I—the only reminder of our time together a piece of paper that stated our marriage was void.

  Why was I still hesitating, then?

  Because you don’t want to take advantage.

  I sucked in my breath and held it for a moment. Sure, I didn’t want to use him for my benefit, but there was something else. The realization hit me so hard, I forgot to breathe.

  Ever since the day we spent at the cottage, I could feel something fluttering inside me. It wasn’t love. It was something else—something I couldn’t explain.

  It was deep and dark, like a current.

  I wanted him.

  To be mine.

  I wanted him to like me the way I liked him.

  Not just sexually, but on a personal level.

  I swallowed the lump down my throat as I realized that the more I resisted Chase, the more I ended up liking him. And not in a way I could easily deal with.

  My heart lurched in my chest at the thought of him.

  I liked him too much—so much that I was way past friendship territory. The idea of him becoming my husband was a dangerous path to my heart, particularly because he could never be.

  Already I was having trouble keeping my emotions in check around him, and we had barely met. What would it be like being near him all the time while having to deal with my naughty thoughts on a daily basis? To resist his flirtations, his random touches, which didn’t seem to be so random after all.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said, and grabbed my handbag, heading for the restroom—away from Jude’s probing glances, relentless questions, and anything else that might just send my thoughts circling back to him.

  Running away, as usual.

  Inclining my head, I stared at my reflection in the mirror, not quite liking what I saw. My skin had a hue of pale gray to it, the bags under my eyes too pronounced in the harsh neon light. Thank God for foundation and bronzing powder, because I looked like shit and felt even worse. Maybe I’d be able to hide the way I looked, but how could I possibly make a secret out of the fact that, on a mental level, I knew I was biting off more than I could chew? Chase was a sexual guy, no doubt about that. If the way he so easily had swayed my mind and tempted me to sleep with him was any indication of our future interchange, I was doomed from the start to give in to his wants.

  Judging from his confidence, he was used to getting what he wanted, and he had admitted that he wanted me. There was no doubt that he’d try to get me into his bed again. Only, now I wasn’t stupid enough to believe I could resist him, nor was I stupid enough to believe that my heart wouldn’t get involved along the way.

  But Jude was right: I needed the letters to finally find closure.

  So many years had passed; so many phases of depression had made me beg for such an opportunity as this. But falling in love with Chase wasn’t an option. I knew that if he pushed hard enough, I’d be all sugar and butter again. And then, in the heat of the moment, I’d open my heart, my soul, my body for him, and he’d crush it along the way. I couldn’t afford that. I couldn’t let our relationship progress.

  I stopped in my thoughts and my breath hitched in my throat.

  What relationship?

  We had none, at least not in the traditional sense, I reminded myself. The few dates and a bit of flirting meant nothing.

  Nothing at all.

  “I’ll just have to keep my legs crossed and closed. How hard can it be?” I muttered. I had only practiced abstinence for the last twenty-two years, never trusting a guy enough to get physically and emotionally involved.

  “Depends on who he is.”

  I turned and shot the woman behind me a shy smile, realizing I must have spoken out loud and she must have heard it.

  She was dressed in a blue dress that built a strong contrast to her red hair pinned high over her head and the thick layer of pink lipstick. Her whole attitude screamed confidence and something else I couldn’t quite pinpoint. “There’s good sex and there’s bad sex,” she continued as she inspected herself in the mirror, smacking her lips in the process. “If he looks clean, listens to you, and takes good care of you, he might be well worth it.”

  As she peered at me from under long, fake lashes, I realized what she was oozing.

  Life experience.

  “Probably,” I whispered. With a last glance at her, I headed out into a narrow hall, eager to return to Jude and finally get back home.

  Only, as I scanned the crowded bar, she was nowhere to be seen. My glance swept over the busy tables and clientele, but Jude wasn’t among them. She must have met someone. There was only one person who’d know. With a sigh, I strolled to the bar and motioned the bartender to get his attention.

  “G’day, Laurie.” He smiled, revealing his perfect white teeth. “What can I do for you?”

  “James.” I shot the familiar face a bright grin. James was a good friend—a sexy, tanned Australian, who Jude would have dated, were it not for him playing for the other team.

  Not that she hadn’t tried anyway.

  “Have you seen Jude?”

  His eyes brushed over the room and the tiniest hint of a frown appeared on his otherwise smooth forehead. “I saw her a few minutes ago heading outside, probably for a smoke.”

  “Thanks.” I was about to turn and go looking for her, when James called after me.

  “Hey, Laurie. How’s your job search coming along?”

  “Still nothing. They don’t want to hire graduates unless they work for free.” I smirked. “So I might as well do a few unpaid internships. If only I’d get one without having to move, because in NYC they’re basically all snapped up for the next five years.”

  He nodded, his eyes lit up with sympathy. “Well, if you need a job, feel free to ask us. We have an open position coming up. It’s yours if you want it.”

  I looked at him, smiling. “Thanks. I appreciate the offer, but—” I hesitated. Could I really afford to decline?

  For months I had spent hours and days looking for a job related to my degree—without any success. If I didn’t find anything soon, I’d end up in serious financial trouble, and I couldn’t afford falling into an even deeper financial hole, seeing that I had already maxed out all my credit cards. “Maybe. I will give it some thought and I’ll get back to you, okay?”

  “Sure.” He returned my smile and winked. “See you around.”

  “Yeah.” I headed back for the hall, which was now crowded with people making out. At the end of the narrow space was a backdoor that led into an alley, which I knew Jude usually used for smoking a cigarette whenever she went out. I opened it and walked outside. The door closed behind me as I scanned the dark space.

  There was no sight of her. Sighing, I breathed in the cool night air, which wasn’t too bad by L.A. standards, and gripped the doorknob, ready to head back into the bar, then pushed.

  I frowned when the door didn’t open.

  Shoot.

  I had locked myself out.

  Chapter 4

  I stared at the door, willing somebody to open it. Blaring music echoed from inside so loud, I doubted anyone would hear my pounding. Even though I knew my attempts would remain futile, I tried one last time and then gave up in favor of a different approach. To re-enter the bar, I figured I had no other choice but to walk around the block. It would take me five—ten minutes, tops. It wasn’t a big deal at all, except…

  Alleys of east Dow
ntown Los Angeles scared the shit out of me, especially now that I was on my own and surrounded by darkness. Garbage littered the sidewalk, large bins blocked the view, and the lack of street lamps made it a place of anyone’s nightmares. I didn’t mind the smell or the rats scurrying around, or the few syringes and condoms lying around. Never mind some of the burned-out buildings or the scary sub-art culture with graffiti adorning the walls that screamed ‘stay the fuck away,’ but the fact that those dark alleyways were a sign of rebellion on their own—a place neither courageous people, which I wasn’t part of, nor the police would venture into at night, unless they had no choice.

  East Downtown L.A. was a city of chaos, where shady deals were made, and people were killed or fought for their life—where everything dark poured out of the beauty of L.A. and was swept into a place that screamed danger and poverty. Some said it was a gateway to hell—out of the view of the rich and famous, stacked away from the tourists. A place where superficial beauty surrounded a perilous sliver.

  Ever since moving to L.A., I had known to stay away from those uncharted back lots of downtown at night. Generally safe at day, L.A. was different in the darkness, especially the Seventh to Ninth Street, when the poor homeless and the addicts started crowding in some places, while others, being territories belonging to the gangs that ruled them, became deserted.

  My eyes scanned the long, narrow alley stretching to both sides of the backdoor. A stray breeze blew my hair into the face. I was brushing it away when thudding footsteps echoed from my left. My head snapped toward the noise, my eyes wide, my heart racing in my ears.

  A naked bulb over the door cast an ominous light, its weak rays barely reaching the large bins on my left side, filled to the brim with garbage.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and pressed my hand against my pounding heart as the steps inched closer. The figure of a guy entered my line of vision. Even in the darkness I could make out the dull eyes, hollowed cheeks, and clothes that had seen better days. He looked like a drug addict in dire need of the next quick fix. Or maybe he was already high out of his mind, seeing that he barely acknowledged me as he passed me, each step slow and steady, and then he was gone. I breathed a sigh of relief and hurried in the direction he had come from.

  Wrapping my arms tightly around me, I quickened my steps. I had almost reached the end of the alley when steps echoed behind me. With a quick glance over my shoulder, I kept walking, but my breath caught in my throat. Someone reached me in a few strides—a different guy, and yet he seemed familiar. My mind raked through the last hour’s faces but didn’t come close to finding an answer.

  “Hey,” a voice shouted close to my ear.

  Shit. Shit.

  My breath came fast as my steps hastened in the hope I could get out of there as fast as possible.

  The possibility of screaming for help entered my mind, but I quickly discarded of it. Even if someone heard me, I knew no one would come to my aid.

  “Hey, you,” the guy yelled again. “I’m talking to you.”

  His hurried steps told me his pace had picked up, the knowledge making me panic so much that I started to run.

  But it was too late.

  He grabbed my shoulder and twirled me around.

  “Hey, you.” He cocked his head, and I recognized a guy I had seen eyeing up Jude earlier. “Where’s your friend?”

  By friend he was talking about Jude.

  “She went home,” I whispered in the hope he’d leave us both alone.

  “So it’s just you?”

  My breath caught in my throat as I stared at him. Why the fuck had I just given him that answer? The streets were abandoned. We were alone and I had just told him that.

  “Actually, she’s waiting for me.” I pointed to the left. “Along with our friends,” I added. “They’re all here. Sorry, I gotta go so we can make it to the next party. It’s quite a drive from here.”

  I shrugged my right shoulder, hoping he would let go of me, while my heart lurched in my chest like crazy.

  Instead of letting go, his grip tightened. “Not honest, are you?” His voice carried the telltale slur of a drunk, his tone accusatory. The real danger was never the east Downtown alleyways themselves, I realized. It was being paid attention by the wrong guys—the ones psycho enough not to understand that their attention was unwanted.

  “How about we spent a little time together?” As if to make his point unmistakable, his hand began to rub my shoulder a little harder than necessary.

  My pulse raced so hard it was almost impossible to formulate one clear thought.

  “We could meet up tomorrow,” I heard myself saying—the one thing I hoped would help me get rid of him. “I’ll give you my number and we can arrange something.” I squeezed a hint of cheeriness into my voice to mask the underlying fear that threatened to seep out of me.

  “All right.” The guy looked at me suspiciously, then retrieved a piece of napkin with a pen out of his pocket. “What’s your number?”

  I gave him the wrong number, of course, silently praying that the tremor in my voice wouldn’t give me away. As I was about to turn away from him, his grip on me tightened while his other hand fished his phone out of his pocket. Paralyzed, I watched him dial the number I had given him. Someone replied almost instantly.

  Someone who clearly wasn’t me.

  “Thought so,” the guy mumbled, his smile smug.

  Slowly, he pushed his phone back into his pocket, his eyes boring into me with a hint of danger. “Trying to wriggle out of this, bitch?”

  My voice failing me, I swallowed hard and shook my head.

  “Think you can play me?” His voice carried a hurricane of anger. “Let me make one thing clear, bitch. Nobody messes with me. And especially not bitches like you.”

  I shrank back. “No, I must have gotten it wrong. Let me try again and I’ll—”

  My voice broke as I considered my next move.

  The moment he’d pull out the paper, I’d try to run, if only he’d let go of me.

  “Doesn’t matter now. What’s the purpose when you’re already here?” he cut in before I could continue. “You’re my bitch and I won’t let you go until you give me what you promised.”

  “What? I didn’t promise anything.”

  “You seduced me.” His lips curved into a knowing smile. “Sluts like you always like to be fucked. I know the kind of girl you are, Laurie.”

  His words made me flinch. “How do you know my name?” I asked, shocked, my legs trembling and my breath coming shallow as a shudder ran down my spine.

  “Let’s say I eavesdropped on you and your friend.” He smiled again, shaking his head in disapproval. “Marrying a guy just to get some letters. I bet you’re a gold digger, out for his money.”

  I stared at him. Of course he must have picked that up from our conversation and created his own story in his twisted mind.

  “That’s right. My fiancé is rich. In fact, one of the richest men around here,” I heard myself saying, hoping that this would infuse some fear into him. “And if you don’t let me go now, you’ll be sorry.”

  He let out a loud laugh. “So, where is he?” He turned his head left and right in mock curiosity. “Probably in his castle, asleep, while his whore fucks the next guy.” He grabbed my hair and pulled my head back. As he leaned forward, his breath coming hard, it took every ounce of me not to faint from the pain searing my scalp.

  “Don’t worry, Laurie. I won’t spill your secrets. I won’t tell anyone of your little affairs.” His hand slid down my front and reached my skirt, lifting it up roughly.

  Shit.

  This wasn’t happening.

  Why had I listened to Jude and changed into a dress of her choice? Underneath it, I wore only a pair of skimpy panties, and those barely covered my private parts.

  My fingers clutched around his hand before he could move it between my legs.

  “Let me go,” I whispered, angry with myself for getting into this kind of situ
ation. My angry command was only rewarded with him laughing. He was obviously enjoying the situation as it was, which just confirmed my earlier suspicion that the guy was a psycho. And judging by his roaming hands, probably someone who was capable of doing more than just harassing a young woman in an empty alley.

  “Get your dirty hands off me,” I hissed.

  “Or what, huh?” His smile turned into a grimace as his fingers tangled in my hair, pulling harder, until the pain in my scalp turned into a nasty burn.

  My hands fumbled in my bag for the Mace I always carried around.

  “You’ll give me what you’re good at, bitch.”

  My fingers finally wrapped around the tiny bottle. My heart pounding hard in my chest, I pulled it out, ready to use it, but he slammed it out of my hand. The bottle landed on the hard concrete floor somewhere to my left, obscured by the darkness. But the sudden noise was enough to distract him. For a moment he let go of me, and I used the opportunity to turn around and head for the main road. I was almost out of the alley when strong arms gripped me, dragging me behind the large bin. I screamed as loudly as I could, but the sound came out all muffled and choked by his hands pressing against my mouth.

  “Fucking bitch.” With a hard thrust, he flung me onto the hard ground.

  I caught my fall but scraped my knee in the process, the pang of pain knocking the breath out of my lungs. Turning around, I stared at him, fear washing over me in thick waves as he leaned over me and opened his belt. “For that you’ll pay.”

  “Please, no,” I whispered, my voice choked with fear. I tried to scramble to my feet but he positioned his boot in the middle of my chest, pinning me to the spot.

  “You stay here, bitch.” He used his belt to tie me up, a demonic expression on his face.

  He was turned on, I realized. By my fear, by the thought of hurting me, the thought of being in control. As he kneeled down, between my legs, I started to kick and fight, and my voice finally found its way out of my throat.

  His grip on my thighs was rough; the hands holding me down unyielding. His breath smelled of cigarettes and vodka, but that wasn’t the worst. I could sense his intentions and my impending doom.