The Bodyguard: A BWWM Bad Body Romance(43)

He made the face of the organization that was supposed to be protecting her look that much realer. “Hank.”

When she said his name, his head whipped around, snarl already in place - but at the sight of her, his expression softened. “Fuck, sorry Julie.” He grunted, taking a drag of his cigarette. “I wanna fucking throttle Simmons.”

She laughed softly. “You always want to throttle him. Take a deep breath...preferably one that’s not filled with nicotine.” She stepped up next to him to tug the cigarette from the death grip he had on it. “That’s not good for you.” Hank glowered for a moment before finally shaking his head.

“I’m supposed to be watching your back, and here you are, denying me the simple pleasures in life.” His griping was hardly enough to make Juliet feel guilty - especially when she had another way for him to blow off steam. One that they both desperately needed.

“Hank...I didn’t come out here to deny you pleasure.” Juliet couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so brazen - or, indeed, if she ever had. But, somehow, wrapping one of her arms around Hank’s solid, tattooed ones felt just indulgent enough to make the neediest parts of her warm with anticipation.

The moment the words left her mouth, Hank’s dark eyes shone with heat. Those eyes were enough to make Juliet’s womb clench once, hard. If felt good to want a man...more than good, considering she knew full well what Hank could do to her once he put his mind to it. “Didn’t we promise we’d do a little stress relieving after the session?” She wheedled, hoping her voice sounded half as sensual as she was trying for.

She was a bit out of practice, after all.

To her consternation, Hank’s expression sobered somewhat. Though he didn’t remove her hand from his arm, he didn’t pull her into his embrace to kiss her senseless either. “Yeah...but I’ve been talking to Simmons and they’re going to send me in again soon. Being with you...it distracts me.”

Juliet decided to take his words as a complement, rather than an insult. But that didn’t mean she meant to stop pressing her suit. If Hank was going to leave her again - have her worrying that her crazy ex was out for his blood too, she wasn’t going to let him leave before imparting upon her two things she desperately needed.

“Fine.” She sighed, letting him go with extreme reluctance before deciding to switch tactics. “Then will you at least teach me how to shoot?”

Hank started like she’d slapped him. “What?”

Juliet stood firm, refusing to be cowed. “Teach me to shoot. That helps both of us, right? I’m not so helpless, you worry less. I want to learn.”

Hank immediately scowled. “I’m not teaching you to use a firearm. Simmons would castrate me if he even knew I let you touch them.”

Juliet’s frown matched his. “Because he thinks I’m going to off myself. I’m pretty sure we both know that’s not the end game here.”

It was the first time she’d ever voiced such thoughts aloud, and Hank’s expression immediately darkened. “I never said that. Who ever said that?”

Juliet’s stomach twisted in discomfort as she turned away from him. “You didn’t have too. I assumed you guys would assume I’m a suicide risk. That’s your prerogative, isn’t it?” She sighed, her eyes slipping closed as she did her best to escape the memories that suddenly threatened to consume her.

How many times had she considered taking her life in the last five years? When things had gotten bad - really bad - and no amount of makeup could cover the scars Solomon left on her body and soul, she just wanted it all to end. There had been several weeks of contemplating how she would do it - what she could steal from the kitchen that would cause the least pain. A drug overdose had seemed the most prudent, as those were always in huge supply, but the idea of shooting up had always seemed abhorrent to Juliet and that didn’t change, even when she was desperate to escape.

And so she had never taken extreme measures - a fact for which she was now grateful. Now, with some departure from Solomon’s abuse, Juliet realized just how important her life was - and how much she still had to live. “Juliet, if it wasn’t in my fucking job description, I wouldn’t be worried about you offing yourself.” Hank growled, finally, pulling her flush against him as he forced her chin up gently. When she met his intense gaze, Juliet felt ashamed that she had ever contemplated killing herself. Hank would never do something so selfish - he would rather make things happen than remain idle, and that was one of the things she most admired in him. “I know you’re strong, and I was an asshole for saying anything that might imply otherwise, ok?”

At that, Juliet laughed softly. Who the hell was this? Hank had apologized to her twice in the space of five minutes. He was going to scare her off at this rate. Her amusement, however, wasn’t enough to make her want to change her mind. She wanted to protect herself. Hank didn’t actually have to give her a gun to carry around. She just wanted to know how to use one properly.

“Hank...please.” She murmured softly, searching his stern features. “I really want to learn. If you really don’t think I’m a danger to myself, you’ll teach me.”

“No.” His tone remained firm, if slightly gentler. “You don’t need that stuff. There are other ways-”

“Please, Hank.” To her embarrassed surprise, Juliet realized she was almost in tears. “Help me with this. I’ll never ask for anything else.”