The Bodyguard: A BWWM Bad Body Romance(4)

But she had done it for the past five years, and, somehow, she would get through it this year. Juliet comforted herself with the notion that, after the function, Solomon would probably be too drunk to want to touch her. She knew that he and his buddies usually started pre-gaming an hour or so before things kicked off. By the time he came to get her, he would be pretty far gone.

If things went like they always did, then at least one or two fights would break out. Caesar would either calm them with words, or, with his preferred method: blood. It wasn’t one of the Aguiler’s functions if no one died, really.

But it never got any easier for Juliet to see the bodies.

She dressed when it was time to do so and made sure to touch up her makeup. If she wasn’t ready by the time Solomon arrived, he would be just drunk enough to hit her - and then he would demand that she hurry to cover the evidence. That was the last thing she wanted was any additional trouble tonight.

Juliet had just finished slipping back into her heels when a loud crack echoed through the manor - an unmistakable sound that had her dropping immediately to her knees.

Gunfire.

After the first shot, a quick burst of automatic rifle fire ensued followed by the sound of angry shouting. It sounded like it was coming directly from the floor below, but Juliet wasn’t na?ve enough to take any chances.

As she crawled across the bathroom floor towards the bedroom, the sound of conflict began to spread throughout the rest of the manor.

Commotion blossomed from underneath her, and pockets of noise began to erupt from other parts of the main house. Above her, down the east wing, even from the direction of the pool and guest house outside. Juliet had no idea what on earth was happening, but there was no way this was some petty squabble. Not with so much chaos.

Part of her expected Solomon to burst through the door at any moment and drag her from the room. Juliet hadn’t spent close to eight years with the man without seeing how he dealt under pressure. She’d even seen him get shot, even if she had long ceased to have any pity for him. Juliet was no longer simple enough to believe that Solomon had ever really loved her. What he felt, really, was something that bordered on obsession. He couldn’t stand the thought of losing her because she was his, and God help anyone who hinted otherwise.

But Solomon didn’t come. Five minutes passed, and then ten, with no sign of a cease fire. In fact, the crash of breaking glass made its way to Juliet’s straining ears and she started. What the hell was going on? Was someone laying all out siege to the manor? In the history of the Aguiler’s rise to power, she hadn’t ever heard of something like this happening!

...and it was the perfect opportunity.

The speed with which Juliet’s mind turned to the possibility of escape was, quite frankly, mind-blowing. She went from fearing for her life one moment to a state of intense self-preservation the next.

If she had been thinking more clearly, Juliet might have changed clothes. She might have thought that trying to make her escape in heels and a cocktail dress was inviting failure; but all she could think was that this was her chance - perhaps the last chance she would ever get - to escape the Aguilers. There was no fucking way she was going to let it pass her by.

Taking a deep breath, Juliet rose onto her hands and knees to crawl across the room to the window. It was, she knew, probably the stupidest thing in the world to be near a window during something like this, but she needed a better idea of what was going on.

Quickly, she popped her head up over the sill before retreating with equal speed. The gesture lasted perhaps half a second at most, but it was still enough for Juliet to be shocked at what she saw. There was smoke. Smoke meant fire. And not just that - there had to be half a dozen bodies on the front lawn alone.

Shit was real.

If she tried to get away in this, there was a very good chance she could die.

Or, she could wait for one of the Aguilers to kill her.

Juliet barely contemplated for a full minute. As another long burst of gunfire echoed from below her, she crawled to the door, gasping as the window shattered just seconds after she got away from it. Using the doorknob, the young woman hoisted herself to her feet and pelted through the door, slamming it behind her.

Astonishingly, the hall beyond was deserted. Juliet couldn’t believe her luck. There would usually be at least five armed guards present.

She wasn’t about to question the circumstances. Quickly, she raced towards the main staircase. She planned to run down the stairs out the main door - obvious, but efficient - but she halted in her tracks at the sight of a firefight going on in the foyer. Inhaling sharply, Juliet ducked behind a statue as about ten grown men all worked on shooting before they could be shot. Several bullets ricocheted and marble pieces of the statute went zinging off god knew where.

She couldn’t go that way.

It took her about a minute to decide to try the staff stairway that led to the kitchen. Few people knew about it, and so the likelihood that she’d run into a roadblock there was slim.

Somehow, Juliet didn’t run into another soul on her way back down the hall, and the narrow staircase the staff used was also completely deserted. When she reached the foot of the staircase, however, Juliet almost tripped over a body lying prone there and she had to cover her mouth to muffle her cry of shock and dismay.

Derek, the cook, lie there, his normally pristine apron smeared with blood, his eyes wide and unseeing. Jesus Christ, no one deserved to die like that.