The Bodyguard: A BWWM Bad Body Romance(11)

Christ. The FBI. She had just agreed to collude with the FBI against her drug-dealer former boyfriend. Solomon would have her head if he ever found out what she was doing.

In that moment, Juliet forgot how to breathe. All at once, she wasn’t in the hospital room. She was back in the Aguiler mansion, locked in her room, waiting for punishment. When she was with Solomon, any and everything had earned her punishment. Exactly how she was punished depended on the man’s mood. She could be locked in the room for days without food. He’d forced himself on her, beat her to within an inch of her life. If he ever got wind of this…

But he wouldn’t.

Solomon wasn’t here. God knew where he was, but whoever had destroyed the mansion had driven him and his father underground. He couldn’t be out and hunting her in broad daylight. However much she might fear living in Solomon’s shadow, she had escaped it - for now. It was best she concentrate on getting the man caught over what he might do to her if he ever got his hands on her. An obsession with the latter would ensure she never slept again.

If she could transcend her paranoia, Juliet had to face the fact that she’d be living with a stranger who had a very obvious grudge against her. It was, sadly enough, something she was very much used to. At least Hank couldn’t kill her without going to jail for it.

The fact provided her with some small comfort.

**

Babysitting wasn’t Hank’s forte.

Send him in to bust a drug ring, put him under cover with a murderer, have him incriminate a sex-offender - those were all things with which he was intimately familiar. But taking care of someone?

He’d long lost the only person he’d ever taken care of.

Which meant that he considered waiting downstairs at the hospital for Juliet to be discharged a massive waste of his time. He doubted that Solomon Aguiler was going to have her assassinated between the fourth and first floors - or, indeed, that Solomon would even come after her at all. The man had bigger priorities just now, if his takedown had been as extensive as they were to believe. While Juliet may be able to help them, Hank questioned her actual value - especially after meeting her.

She was just another pretty face. Admittedly, that pretty face was scratched and bruised, and he’d never been an advocate of hurting women, but, in his opinion, she was just doing the best she could to distance herself from the Aguilers. She probably knew the likelihood of her being implicated for any number of crimes and was keen on avoiding jail. It was self-preservation - a very human thing.

What surprised Hank the most about Juliet Brown was just how young she was. It wasn’t that there was a huge age gap between them, but her twenty seven years would mean she’d been with the Aguilers since she was eighteen. How the hell could an eighteen year old survive that cutthroat world? How did she get into it to begin with?

She seemed normal enough - no rough background or harsh upbringing from what he could see - unless you counted her years among criminals. Hank couldn’t tell if they could trust anything the young woman said - she’d probably used those huge brown eyes to her advantage before. But when she spoke of Solomon Aguiler, a spark of fear appeared in them. At the very least, hopefully she was terrified enough of the man not to go running back to him once she realized exactly what she was doing. As long as she didn’t do that, he could probably handle everything else.

When the nurse told him that Juliet had sustained a pretty bad sprain, he expected them to bring her down in a wheelchair. Instead, the elevator doors opened on her walking of her own volition on a single crutch. Hank arched a brow as she hobbled out of the elevator, waving away the nurses help with an irate expression. It was clear, however, after several halting steps, that she had no idea what she was doing. He wondered if she’d ever been injured so badly in her life.

Swallowing his own exasperation, he moved forward to help her. It was a good thing he had, as approximately half a second later, she stumbled into what promised to be a nasty fall. At least until he caught her three inches from the cold tile floor. “Should have gone with the wheelchair,” he growled lowly, setting her upright before grabbing her crutch to present it to her. “Pride goes before a fall and all that.”

Juliet scowled at him. Hank couldn’t avoid the thought that she was far too pretty to be frowning. He’d be willing to bet half a month’s salary that Juliet Brown’s smiling face, even bruised as it was, was quite the sight to behold. He’d never met any woman that looked as good in hospital scrubs as she did…

But that wasn’t the point. “Thank you.” Even though she expressed her gratitude, it was clear the gesture was painful for Juliet. “But I’m fine. I didn’t want to be a burden.”

The irony was fucking overwhelming. “That hobbling’s going to take forever.” He glanced towards the front entryway. It was, at most, a five minute walk to the car, but with Juliet in her condition, they’d likely be there for the next century. “Give me that.” He held out his hand for the crutch and the young woman eyed him suspiciously for a beat before handing it over.

Hank, however, didn’t hesitate before wrapping one arm around Juliet’s waist and hauling up and against his side. Immediately, she squawked in protest. “Put me down! I can walk!”

“Slowly.” Hank reminded her, toting her effortlessly through the hospital lobby and out into the morning sunshine. If he were on vacation, he might have spent the morning fishing. Instead, he was toting what he could only hope would be a goldmine of information about the Aguilers to the closest hidey hole.