The Bodyguard: A BWWM Bad Body Romance(58)
Ultimately, however, Solomon backed off. “Don’t fucking know. Apparently the shopkeeper had a gun and she got a hold of it after Angus blew the idiot’s head off.” Hank found his chest swelling with pride. Thatta girl. It took everything in him to repress a triumphant grin. His Julie wasn’t a victim anymore. She wasn’t going to go down without a fight. “I’ve been lenient with you pendejos the past few weeks, but now I won’t be. I need the bitch here, and I need her here yesterday.”
“How we supposed to get her from the FBI, boss?” Jose had never been the brightest bulb of the bunch, and now his obvious intelligence was shining through. Under any other circumstances, the question might have earned him an insult. Solomon had clearly dealt with more than enough for one day. Without a word, he withdrew a revolver and shot the man cleanly in the head. Hank’s mouth tightened – as his stomach plummeted. He didn’t like any idiot crazy enough to fall in with Solomon Aguiler, but that certainly didn’t mean Jose deserved death.
Not like this. “Anybody else got any bright questions?” Solomon’s dark eyes blazed as he looked over the remaining two men. Somehow, Hank doubted he’d be so fucking bold if he was the one facing the barrel of a gun, but he reminded himself that it wasn’t his decision to make. Solomon Aguiler was going to face the full measure of the law - despite the fact that he deserved much worse.
Slowly, he shook his head. Next to him, Towns mimicked the motion with much more enthusiasm.
“Good. You,” He pointed at the man next to Hank, “Head downstairs and get someone to come up here and clean up this mess. You.” Hank was next, and his mouth twitched when Solomon addressed him. “We need to talk.”
Hank nodded curtly, watching Towns leave out of the corner of his eye. The smaller man closed the door behind him, leaving him and Solomon completely alone.
In a gesture that caught Hank completely off guard, Solomon knelt to pick up a chair he had kicked over only moments ago, righting it in a smooth motion. “Sit.”
This couldn’t be good. Hank sank stiffly into the chair as Solomon rounded his desk to take his own seat. Solomon gazed at him for a long beat, his expression unreadable. When he spoke, his voice was low. “How long you been with us, Elias?”
Hank shrugged. “Few months, give or take. Joined up after your Dad bitched out. Figured it’d be smarter to join up with young blood.”
His answer made Solomon smirk. “You chose right. This city will be ours in a few months. My Dad doesn’t know how to innovate. He’s stuck in the past. He might have the upper hand now but when I get Juliet back…” He trailed off, his hands clutching the edge of the desk until his knuckles whitened. Hank did his best not to imagine the pain those hands had inflicted on Juliet over the years as rage churned silently in his gut. “I don’t care how you do it...I don’t care if those motherfucking FBI cunts gotta eat some dirt. I want her back. Do you think you can do that for me, Birch?”
If it were up to Hank, he would have shot the fucker between the eyes at that moment. Like hell he was promising to deliver Juliet back into the arms of the man who had all but ruined her life. But he wasn’t supposed to be Hank. He was supposed to be Elias Birch...and Birch wanted nothing more than to rise through the ranks.”
“I can do that, Sir.”
“Good.” Solomon’s smile was cruel. “And when you get hold of her, don’t be afraid to have a little fun with her. By the time you bring her back here, I want her to be glad to see my fucking face.”
Hank was across the table in a fraction of a second. It was if his body had taken over, shoving his brain into a chair in the back of the room to watch. How dare this fucker talk about Juliet like that. Hadn’t he done enough? Had he broken her, hurt her and fucked with her enough for a goddamned lifetime? For a split second, he forgot his mission - that he was supposed to bring the man in unharmed. That he was supposed to set him up to incriminate himself. In that moment, all Hank wanted was to wring his fucking neck and by God, he would have satisfaction.
At least, that’s what he planned. If there was anyone who knew how quickly plans could go awry, it was Hank...and this one did just that.
Before his hands could get anywhere near Solomon’s throat, he found himself staring down the barrel of a gun. “Get the fuck back in that chair, cabron.”
Far from looking surprised, Solomon wore an expression of supreme satisfaction. “Right now, or I’ll send you to join our dear departed Jose.” Hank hesitated for only the moment it took to glare at Solomon with all the hatred that he possessed. Then, slowly, he sank back into the chair. “That’s a good fucking little FBI pendejo.” Solomon hissed, making Hank stiffen in his chair.
How the hell did Solomon know who he was? Besides this little slip, he’d been careful as hell. If anything, the man should want to kill him for attempting his life. “That’s right, I know who you are. I had Blackjack check into all the new guys before he caught a bullet and your story was the only one that didn’t check out, asshole.” He leaned over the table, all but pressing the still-warm barrel of the gun against Hank’s temple. “I’m sure you’ve guessed by now that I don’t care who the fuck you are. You’re going to help me get my Juliet back, and then we’re gonna toss you in a river somewhere.”
Hank snarled, resisting the urge to go for the bastard again. “I don’t know what you’re fucking talking about. I ain’t no agent.”