The Boss's Proposal (Billionaire Bad Boy BBW Romance)(7)

"What's your name?" Lance asked as he took the tankard from her. His fingers brushed hers and Claire felt her heart skip.

"It's Claire," she said smiling.

"It's beautiful," Jed said taking his tankard too.

Claire smiled back, feeling things stir inside that she hadn't felt in a good long while.

Then Jed pulled out a wallet. Claire hadn't seen that in ages. Everyone  had a Pay-Chip now and cash was almost obsolete. But he held out the  notes to her and smiled. She took them and made change and held it to  him hoping his fingers would brush hers. He shook his head.

"Your tip," he said and winked.

Lance chuckled and said, "I'm sure that you are a fabulous hostess Claire, and will keep the drinks coming tonight alright?"

Claire nodded. "As you say." The brothers turned from her, though Jed's eyes rested on her a moment longer than Lance's did.

Claire went back down the bar to her other customers feeling bewildered  and hot. She kept slipping surreptitious glances down the bar at the  brothers when she was busy with other customers, unable to stay away too  long. They were like a drug and after a while it began to scare her.  There was something different, something intense and unfamiliar about  them. They seemed hungry in a predatory way that made her want to run  both to and from them at the same time. It was beginning to give her a  headache.



The evening wore on and became a thick, very sticky night with no breeze  to speak of. Claire was sweat soaked and exhausted by the time Charlie  decided to call last rounds. Half an hour later Claire was all cashed up  and out the door feeling more listless and like she'd lost something  than ever before. The brothers had been the last ones out, thanking her  for her excellent service and slipping her a few hundred-dollar bills as  they went. Who were they? And why did she want to see them so badly  again?

Claire stood for a moment outside letting the cooler night airflow over  her hot skin. She wanted to take a bath for the next year. Maybe that  would clear her head. Her feet ached and suddenly she realized she  hadn't eaten at all and was famished. Her apartment was just up the  street and on the way was Julio's Taco truck the perfect late night  food.







She turned to her left to walk down the boardwalk passed the over-priced  hotels, when she noticed movement in the dim light of a lamp. The light  was flickering on and off as though the bulb was just about to blow.  Under it, their heads together looking at something were Jed and Lance.

Her heart did cartwheels. Were they waiting for her? Oh God what if they  were waiting for her? She wasn't stupid. She'd lived here for a long  time now and this situation seemed fishy. What were they still doing  here? What were they looking at? Claire hesitated.

Newspaper headlines flashed in her fore brain. All of them recounting  the tails of girls who should've known better, should've read the signs  and known that their doom was imminent. Was she setting herself up to be  one of those girls by wanting to blindly run off with two total  strangers?

Charlie was still in Cool Joe's. All she would have to do was go back  through the doors and she could leave with him. That would be the  sensible thing to do. Flirting behind the bar was perfectly acceptable.  It was part of the experience and no one took it seriously. But here  outside in the dark with nothing but a few yards between them …  this was a  different world. Claire knew too many stories, and patrons hanging  around outside the bar, waiting for you, were nothing but trouble.

But they probably weren't out here waiting for her. They were probably  consulting a map since they seemed to do things old school style. They  weren't local so maybe they didn't know where their hotel was from here.  Should she offer to help them?

And if she did and that spell came over her again, and she woke up in a  strange hotel room with nothing on but the sheet? Then what? Claire knew  she was over thinking this. Really they were nice guys. They seemed  really nice. I'm sure that's what all those murdered girls would say,  her hindbrain scolded her. The last thing Claire wanted to do was die  outside Cool Joe's. Her obituary would be the most boring ever written.  Claire Sofia Underwood died outside the bar she worked at. So much  potential, sadly never realized.

She sighed and turned her head looking the other way up the boardwalk.  She could go that way and avoid the whole thing. There! But it was dark  and mostly deserted the other attractions being for the daylight hours.  There was just one person walking towards her and dressed in a trench  coat in this heat, he looked creepier than Jed and Lance could ever be.

The brothers were having a heated discussion, their voices rising in the  still night air. They were speaking a foreign language and Claire  couldn't understand a word, but she knew a fight when she heard one.  They probably wouldn't notice her if she walked by really fast.

Trench coat guy was almost at Cool Joe's far corner now and he gave  Claire the willies, so she began to walk down the boardwalk toward Jed  and Lance. She slipped her hand into her purse and felt around for the  little canister of knockout gas she had bought for just such occasions.  It was somewhere in there, but her questing fingers couldn't seem to  find it. Why did she carry so much junk?

Never had the walk away from Cool Joe's taken so long, or felt so  perilous. Claire felt her heart beating double time, as she seemed to  inch her way down the wooden slats, her hand still searching her purse  for the ever-illusive protection she carried.

Not far now. Not far. Just keep going. Don't look at them. Just walk like you're not worried at all.

The argument was getting louder but Claire kept her head down. And then  silence, nothing but the sound of her shoes on the wood. Shocked Claire  looked up. Jed was there, in front of her. She hadn't seen him move. His  eyes were glowing in the darkness fixed on her and Claire stood still,  like a rabbit in headlights. Her heart hammered in her chest, her knees  going weak. She thought in a moment of added panic that she might wet  herself. Those eyes were not normal. They were not human! Her fingers  moved in her bag and closed around something cold and metallic.

Then there was a blur of movement. An arm grabbed her around the waist  and spun her backwards and down to the ground. Claire cried out in alarm  pulling her hand out of her purse and pressing the plunger furiously.  The air filled with the smell of flowers. The arm let go of her and a  gruff voice she didn't recognize said "Stay down!"

Shaking Claire lay on the wood. She was half behind a big metal  trashcan. She pulled herself into a ball and clasped her hands over her  ears. She could hear growls and bangs. There were screams and something  clattered to the ground near her. Then something else, small and wet  landed on her legs and she tried to make herself smaller. A terrible  smell filled the air, like liquid metal and Claire realized it was  blood.







"Oh God! Oh God!" she repeated over and over. "It's not real! It's not real!"

With a thud next to her, Claire opened her eyes. She looked into the  anguished face of a man about to die. He was pale and his clothes were  soaking through with red. It was too much for her. She stood up, and  ran.

Around her things whizzed through the air. Growls and grunts, thuds and  booms filled her ears to overflowing. Figures darted faster than she  could see around her. But all she wanted to do was go home. The urge to  not be there anymore was so strong that Claire would have crawled over a  heap of dead bodies to get away and not even have noticed.

But suddenly something growled right next to her. Something huge and  black was standing there. She spun, pressing the plunger on her still  clasped canister. The air filled with the scent of flowers again. She  got a glimpse of fur, a muzzle and then something landed heavily on her  head, knocking her to the ground. The world swam sickeningly, and  darkness rose like a merciful angel to claim her.



Daylight slid gently into the room through a slice in the curtains.  Claire watched dust motes hover and glide on the faint air currents and  for a moment the world seemed peaceful and quiet. Then she heard voices  in the next room. She couldn't't quite make out what they were saying  but they seemed sort of familiar, but not and far away.

Claire lay in a warm, fuzzy daze for a few minutes until she realized  that the ceiling wasn't hers. She looked at the curtains. They had a  yellow pattern of flowers on them. Then she looked down at the covers  that matched the curtains. She sat up in alarm. This isn't my apartment!  And immediately lay back down again. A wave of nausea ran over her like  a runaway truck. Gulping air she tried to force the bile back down.

With great care a few minutes later Claire tried sitting up again,  gingerly, and when no nausea followed she relaxed a little. So she was  in a strange room. There were two doors, one to her left and the other  to her right. Okay, good to know there was possibly an exit. A thought  entering her mind she quickly lifted the covers and saw that she was  still fully clothed in her work shirt and jeans, right down to her  tennis shoes. That was a good sign. Her bag was next to her on the bed. A  quick search revealed that her phone was missing. Okay, not a good  sign.