The Bodyguard: A BWWM Bad Body Romance(48)
“What the fuck, Compton?” Crowley slammed the door hard enough that several birds in neighboring trees took wing in fright. Hank, however, was far from as easily intimidated. “Simmons wasn’t even in the office?”
“He called a bit after you left,” Hank lied easily, “I couldn’t get ahold of you since you left your phone.” He had, in fact, made sure Crowley’s phone remained at the cabin, lest Simmons give the game away.
“You son of a bitch. You think I don’t know what game you’re playing?” In terms of most Bureau grunts, Crowley was pretty sizeable. But if you were comparing him to Hank, he was a bit scrawny. He, however, seemed to have forgotten that. “Sending us away so you can have time alone with Juliet. I should report your harassment to Simmons.”
Hank snorted, sizing the man up across the two feet of space that remained between them. “You’re going to tell Simmons I’m harassing you. You’d think that would get old, eventually.” He was used to men trying to get out of working with him. He’d never been a team player. They didn’t like that he was prone to rule-bending.
Or breaking, when the situation called for it.
“Not me, you ass. Juliet.” Hank’s eyes narrowed at the threat. “You’re supposed to be protecting her, not fucking her.”
Hank’s hand itched to throttle his colleague, but he forced himself to cool his temper. “I’m doing my job,” he returned coolly. “Better you do yours than get caught up playing tattle-tale.”
“I don’t know why the hell you think you’re so much better than us,” Crowley seethed, his hands curling into irate fists. “We’ve got twice the education. Half the temper. More experience and a hell of a lot better heads on our shoulders. Given half the chance, Juliet would probably make a more level-headed choice.”
So that was what this was about?
Crowley was fucking jealous. The man got to leave the premises twice a day and he was fixated on Juliet? There was a city of pussy not two hours away and he wanted what he couldn’t have. All this “harassment” bull was a front - and a shitty one at that.
That said, Hank had no idea what Simmons would do if blatantly confronted with news that one of his agents and a charge were involved. It couldn’t be good for either of them, and Juliet didn’t need any complications in her life right now.
Not when he was so close to putting Solomon away for good.
Normally, Hank was an advocate of a good punch in the mouth when someone said something he didn’t like. But this time, he felt himself backing down - if only so Crowley wouldn’t ruin some of the most peaceful days Juliet had experienced in the past decade.
“Look, Crowley,” Hank growled - a not-so genuine attempt at subtlety. “She’s had a rough time of things, ok? The last thing she needs is us fucking things up for her.”
Crowley barked a harsh laugh. “And you’re what? Her knight in shining armor? You personally ensuring her safety by screwing her every chance you get? From one criminal to another, you figure it’ll be a pretty fucking easy transition, huh?”
Hank forced himself to take a deep, steadying breath as his temper threatened to explode. He was fine with anyone in the office thinking whatever the fuck they wanted about him. He’d never placed much stock in their opinion. It was Simmons who’d hired him, and as long as Simmons had faith, that’s all that mattered.
But this wasn’t just about him. Now Crowley was insulting Juliet, and that, in Hank’s opinion, was a far less forgivable crime. “Don’t,” he managed, his expression thunderous. “Don’t talk about her like that.”
“Like what? What she is? She was Solomon Aguiler’s fucking pet for eight years, man. Don’t make her out to be an angel. She’s damaged goods and you’re just taking advantage of that.”
Hank acted without thinking. The moment the word damaged left Crowley’s mouth, his fist flew. It didn’t occur to him that he’d referred to both Juliet and himself the same way on many occasions, or that he’d reacted almost identically the first time he met her. All that mattered was that Crowley was further disrespecting a woman who’d gone through hell, and Hank would be damned if he stood for it.
He barely felt the impact. Hank hit Crowley hard enough to send him sprawling, bloodying both his lip and his nose, but he felt nothing except the rage searing through him.
“Hank!” Only Juliet’s shocked cry was enough to keep him from lashing out again. Hank took a step backwards, dropping his fist as he swallowed thickly. From the ground, Crowley stared up at the man above him triumphantly.
“You’re fucking in for it now, Compton. Assaulting a fellow agent - even Simmons can’t overlook this.”
“What the hell is going on?” Juliet hurried down the cabin’s front stairs, her expression alarmed.
“Compton’s always been a violent bastard.” Crowley rose to his hands and knees, spitting a mouthful of blood to the side. “Now he’s just showing his true colors.”
“I stopped at a single punch, so consider yourself lucky,” Hank seethed, glaring at the man before him. “You can tell Simmons whatever the hell you want, but don’t let her name ever pass your lips again.”
Before Crowley could come up with a scathing response, Hank turned on his heel to stalk back into the house before he did any more damage. As it was, Simmons was probably going to royally bust his balls. Before he could make it to his room to find his hidden stash of cigarettes, however, Juliet took firm hold of his arm.