The Bodyguard: A BWWM Bad Body Romance(21)
Juliet ran a hand through curls still damp from the shower that morning. “In the manor.” She swallowed thickly. “After we’d been together for about three years, Solomon moved me out of my parents’ house. He told them not to contact me, said that I was all but dead to them. After I moved into the manor, he dictated my every move. When I got up, who I saw, what I ate, where I performed, and what I did.” She took a shuddering breath. “In the past two years, I hardly left the manor at all. Solomon was convinced I’d run away if I got the chance, so he didn’t leave me any opportunity.”
“Was he right?”
Hank’s question caught her slightly off guard. Was he asking her if she wanted to escape? “About my trying to get away? Of course. But no one involved with the Aguilers is idiotic enough to try and get away without planning and forethought...and a lot of firepower.”
Juliet could feel Hank’s eyes all but burning into the top of her head. “What happened to people who tried to escape, Juliet?”
The young woman bit her lip, toying with the thin skin there until she came close to drawing blood. “...Their bodies would turn up on the news. What he did to them...it was never pretty.”
“And did Solomon and his family ever do any of that in front of you?”
Juliet’s breath caught as she squeezed her eyes shut. In her opinion, she’d done a pretty good job of keeping the worst of her memories at bay. If she concentrated on her newfound freedom instead of the past, she only had nightmares when she closed her eyes.
Now, she had to face them.
“Yes.” The word came out in barely a whisper. To her merit, when she spoke, her voice was mostly steady. “The first time happened a few days after I moved into the manor. I was sick and Solomon wanted me to perform at some event or the other and I told him I couldn’t. He um...he hit me. Dragged me downstairs to where they were interrogating someone who had snatched a few pounds of coke on a recent run and told me he was going to show me what happened to people who couldn’t follow orders. Then he... he hurt him. I don’t like to remember it...it’s just...they hurt him. Until he couldn’t scream anymore.”
“And you were present for the entire affair?” Simmons spoke for the first time now, revulsion clear in his tone. Juliet kept her eyes trained on her lap, still unable to meet he or Hank’s gaze.
“He wouldn’t let me leave until he was done.”
Juliet went on to tell Hank and Simmons about more of the terror she’d watched Solomon and his father inflict on others. Horribly enough, the longer she spoke, the easier it became. Over the course of her stay in the manor, Juliet had seen her fair share of atrocities, but it was the first one that stuck with her the most poignantly. The kid had only been seventeen or eighteen - trying to sell a little on the side to help his family out.
She still heard his screams sometimes.
After she spoke for about two hours, Hank stopped her and Simmons paused the recording. For a good minute or so, none of them spoke, and Juliet realized she was trembling. Reaching up, she found moisture on her cheeks.
When had she started crying?
“I think that’s enough for today.” Hank murmured. Juliet merely nodded, finally gathering the courage to look at him. Hank’s expression was unreadable, but the glass of water he held atop the table had a crack along the side, and water seeped out over his knuckles.
“Juliet.” She turned to find Simmons leaned over the recording machine, reading over the notes he’d taken. When he raised his head to meet her gaze, however, his expression was anything but business. For the first time since she’d met the man, Juliet saw something besides calm in his dark gaze.
In that moment, she thought, perhaps, she saw murder there. “What happened to the first kid Solomon made you watch? Right after you moved into the manor?”
Juliet swallowed her grief, wiping the tears from her cheeks. She’d cried rivers of tears for the boy whose name she didn’t even know over the years. One would think that, eventually, she might run dry.
“He died before they finished with him,” she managed, her voice hoarse, “But Solomon kept going anyway, just to prove a point.”
Hank rose from the table so quickly his chair scuffed the cheap linoleum floor. “I need some air.” Inside a minute, the screen door slammed as he headed out onto the front porch, leaving Juliet and Simmons alone in the kitchen.
Once he’d gone, Simmons exhaled a long breath. “Juliet, for what it’s worth...I’m sorry you had to go through all that.”
The young woman laughed hollowly, her chest tight. “Well, you’re going to use all this to put him away, right? So it’s serving its purpose now.”
Juliet was used to men getting chummy with her - trying to touch her when they weren’t supposed to. When she was with Solomon, he liked to allow the members of his inner circle to touch her as they pleased, just to remind her how much power he had over her. Then there was Solomon himself. She didn’t think she’d ever be able to burn away the memory of his touch. So, when Simmons hand came down on her shoulder with gentle pressure, she flinched.
He, however, didn’t pull away - but nor did his grip tighten or become uncomfortable. Juliet sighed, low and long, reminding herself that this man didn’t want to take advantage of her. He was doing his best to help her - and just now, a little comfort might go a long way.