Claire: The Forced Virgin Of The Billionaire

He sat for a minute and in my peripheral vision I could see his chest was heaving.

Finally, he let go of the hem of my dress, which I hadn’t realized he had in his grasp. Then he picked up his phone and dialed a number, then put it to his ear, opening the glove box with his free hand and flinging a stack of napkins in my direction.

“Dare? Yeah. Tell Uncle I can’t make dinner. No. Yeah. Yup. Right, bye.”

Then he dialed again, “Earl? You there yet? Yeah, I’ve got her. We’re on our way there. See you in 15. You have back-up? Still? Whatever, just keep a watchful eye. I’ll see you soon.”

He started the car and then leaned over me. I flinched but he just fastened my seatbelt and then we were back on the road. I was relieved to not have to meet his family and sit at a table with them, pretending nothing was wrong.

What I was not relieved about was getting to the master bedroom, the place that had become my torture chamber. Because even when he wasn’t torturing my body he was torturing my brain.

The ride was quiet but the air was thick with tension. Azriel’s face was stone cold and he was white-knuckled all the way back to his house.

I was petrified and wished I could just disappear into thin air or that we’d get pulled over and get a speeding ticket so that I could beg the cop to rescue me from this maniac.

The gate at his place opened and the car squealed to a halt. I saw Earl with a frown on his face. He looked at Azriel, then me, and I swear I saw what looked like pity.

Azriel and I both got out of the car and just as I was about to round the front of the car I saw Earl approach me from the side. His hand came up over my mouth and I was being pulled backwards.

I caught Azriel’s expression and the look on his face was utterly murderous.

I heard a loud bang. Oh God, that was Earl shooting at Azriel! Azriel hit the ground, half way behind his car, produced his gun, and fired it in our direction. Earl fired back at Azriel and Azriel’s gun hit the ground.

I saw a man come up from around the back of the house and Earl shot him. A dark red hole formed on that guy’s forehead and the man fell face first onto the ground.

I was dragged backwards past the gate and tossed into the back seat of a big older car out on the street. I heard a few more shots.

There were two men in the car with Earl and me. What on earth? Earl had a gunshot wound in his shoulder. Were they rescuing me? I looked at Earl, confused. He leaned over in the back seat of the car, wincing.

There was another man on my left side, a slim black man with a mustache, and there was a man in the front seat driving who sort of looked like the Machete movie actor, Danny something or another. Tall, Mexican, long ponytail. But younger.

“Are you rescuing me?” I asked.

The driver spoke, “Be quiet, miss. All will be revealed.”

They drove to the airport. The airport? Then we drove into a hangar and there was a lot going on. People rushing everywhere, forklifts, it was mayhem. I was ushered into a big white plane with no lettering. There were only a few seats in the back; the rest of it was wide open with just a few skids that were shrink-wrapped on it.This material belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

“Are you rescuing me, Earl?” I asked again. The slim black guy ripped earl’s shirt sleeve off and was inspecting the wound on his shoulder.

“Good, there’s an exit wound.” He reported and pulled out a first aid kit.

Earl closed his eyes and shook his head as the door to the plane was closed, “Afraid not, Miss Dawson.”

The Mexican guy pulled a gun and put it on his lap, giving me a look that shook me to my core. Oh no.

“What?” All the air left my lungs.

“Clarkes have enemies,” the slim black guy working on Earl’s arm said, glancing up at me, “a lot of enemies. The fiancée of Azriel Clarke is an extremely valuable commodity.”

“Earl?” Why did I keep looking to him? I thought we’d sort of bonded over tea. There wasn’t much of any conversation or anything like that but he’d had kind eyes. He’d been sort of nice to me. He was working for Azriel’s enemies? Was Azriel dead after those gunshots? He glanced in my direction, pain on his face.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked.

“Mexico,” he answered.

Oh no. I’d heard stories about Mexico. Heck, Azriel had warned me about human slavery in Mexico. I closed my eyes, dread filling my veins.

“No more questions. Buckle up!” said the Mexican man, “Behave and you can sit there in the comfy seat. Act up and you’ll be tossed in a sack with tape over your mouth!”

I was handed a bottle of water, which I accepted with trembling hands. The guy with the first aid kit continued to clean up Earl’s arm and the Mexican guy disappeared into the cockpit. I was petrified of what could be coming next.

Azriel’s POV

Earl’s first shot missed me by miles and I knew that was just a warning shot because he was an ace with that gun and if he wanted me dead I’d be cold by now. The second shot knocked my gun right out of my hand.

I wasn’t hit. I was fine but Marco was dead. I shook my head. Marco was a good guy, wife and three kids. f**k! He was supposed to be at home with his family, not here 5 hours after his shift had ended!

I’m a pretty good shot, too. When Earl had Claire against him the only safe place for me to shoot for was his head, since he was more than a foot taller than her. I aimed for it but caught his shoulder instead.