The Bodyguard: A BWWM Bad Body Romance(61)
She wanted to cling to Simmons - to demand that he do something to help Hank now, but if there was anything that her years with the Aguilers had taught her, it was that losing her head would help her little.
“Let me help.” At her demand, Simmons looked to her warily. “All the info I’ve given you has been valid so far, right? Let me help you get him back. I want to be involved.”
“Juliet,” Simmons ran a hand through his hair brusquely. “You’ve been very helpful, but now the game has changed. If Solomon has an agent, we have to tread more carefully.”
“I know that!” Juliet’s words came out far sharper than she’d planned and Simmons’ eyes narrowed in warning. She forced herself to take a deep breath before trying again. “I know, Simmons.” Shoving her pride down deep, she continued in a pleading tone. “If you know that Hank and I were involved, then you know I can’t just sit here idle if Solomon has him. I want to help.”
Simmons merely leaned back against the seat, rubbing at the bridge of his nose where a headache no doubt brewed. “Let’s figure out the demands first, ok? I can’t promise you anything.”
Juliet merely nodded before drawing her knees to her chest in an attempt to still her racing heart. He had Hank. Her Hank. After all she had done to escape Solomon, he always found a way to keep her heart in a cage.
Even if she wasn’t.
Chapter 13: Impulse
The new safehouse was on the edge of the city. Juliet was surprised when they pulled up at a hotel not twenty minutes from where the Aguiler Manor was, but she didn’t ask any questions. She would save all her breath for trying to convince Simmons to let her help them get Hank back.
Settling in seemed to take an inordinate amount of time. There were agents to be stationed outside, a hotel clerk to replace, and then the room had to be made secure. A good three restless hours passed before Simmons finally returned to the room. A single order saw every agent present leave to join their fellows outside. Once they left, the man turned to face Juliet, his expression dark. He dropped onto the edge of the bed where she sat, every muscle in her body tense, before opening the laptop he’d brought with him. “We received this tape a few hours ago. Took us a while to confirm that everything was real, but here you have it.” He glanced in Juliet’s direction before continuing. “If my superiors knew I was showing you this, they’d have my head.”
People had been sticking their necks out for her a lot lately - Juliet had to make sure that they got fair return for it. “Play it.”
When he did, Juliet sucked in a breath. The first image on screen was Hank, tied to a chair in a dingy room, his face a ruined mass. He had obviously been beaten so badly that he’d have another host of scars to add to his collection.
If he survived.
Before Juliet could even fully absorb what she was seeing, however, another figure stepped into the frame. Once, the sight of Solomon Aguiler would have filled her with fear. But now, the sight of his swarthy, narrow face and cold gray eyes kindled a wild rage in her. She clutched the thin coverlet beneath her almost hard enough to tear it, her eyes locked on the screen.
And Solomon spoke. “Simmons. That’s your name, right? At least I hope Simmons is watching this. You’re the only one who can save your man’s fucking skin.” Stepping forward, the lean figure took hold of the crown of Hank’s head, jerking him upright so he gazed into the camera through the slits that were his eyes. “By this time, you probably know about Crowley. It was unfortunate that he got in the way but that’s fucking life. He served his purpose, so now we have bigger fish to fry. I’ll get straight to the point.” When he withdrew a revolver from the waistband of his pants, Juliet swallowed thickly, her heart in her throat. “I want my Juliet.”
His. All this time, and he still considered her his. The very notion made Juliet shudder in revulsion. “Give her to me, and I’ll let your dog live. A simple exchange. What’s she to you? A cunt and a testimony that will never stand up in court? Come on. You guys didn’t even know she existed until she came crawling to you. Literally crawling.”
As if she needed any reminder that the man had tried to end her life. He would have rather seen to her death than in the hands of the FBI - she had the scars to remind her of that as long as she lived. “Give her to me. I’ll have someone contact you with the specifics. Send her in alone, and I’ll make the swap. If, at any point, I sense any funny business - any at all - I’ll put a bullet through your man’s head and call it a day.” He slid the gun under Hank’s chin in a manner almost caressing before staring directly into the camera. “You gonna let her see this, Simmons? Let her know how serious I am?” His face pulled into what could only be described as a snarl. “No one touches what’s mine. No one. You’re mine, Juliet, and don’t you ever forget it.”
When the video cut, a sob welled in her chest. Juliet fell backward against the headboard, trembling, as hot tears coursed down her face.
This was her fault. If she’d never gone running to the FBI, this never would have happened. She wouldn’t have put other people in danger. No one would be dead.
Hank would be safe.
“Send me back.” The prospect terrified her beyond reckoning. Not only would she have to return to Solomon’s clutches without his father to temper his violence, but she had no doubt he would punish her for running in the first place. But none of that mattered as much as keeping Hank alive. If it meant the only person who’d ever made her feel alive survived, then her decision was easy. “I want to go back.”