The Bodyguard: A BWWM Bad Body Romance(68)

In all honesty, Juliet thought it a wonder he even recognized her. She hadn’t straightened her hair in weeks and she’d long stopped dressing the way he had conditioned her to. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn makeup or heels and the very fact empowered her.

“I wish I could say the same.”

Solomon’s smile lessened somewhat. “I’ll forgive you for that one, Juliet. I see some time apart has...changed you somewhat.” By now, he was a mere ten feet from her. Juliet raised a hand, palm outward, and spoke with perhaps more authority than she had in her entire life.

“That’s far enough.”

She seemed to have surprised Solomon so much that he did, indeed, stop. Warily, Juliet looked between him and Hank, her heart in her throat. “Let him go. You promised me that if I came, you’d let him go.”

Immediately, Solomon’s expression hardened. “Who the hell do you think you are, making demands of me?” When he took another impulsive step towards her, Juliet drew the weapon she’d been hiding from the waistband of her jeans and cocked it. Putting the barrel of a loaded gun against her head made her sick to her stomach, but it served its purpose.

Solomon stopped again, his eyes wide, expression suddenly pale. “Julieta…” His voice low in warning, he tried again.

“Let him go,” Juliet whispered, her voice admirably steady. “Or I swear to God I’ll do it.”

“You won’t,” Solomon returned immediately - more order than prediction. When Juliet’s finger moved to the trigger, he immediately took a step back. “And even if you did, I’d just kill your little boyfriend,” He snarled the word, tossing a dirty look in Hank’s direction, “The moment you did.”

“Maybe,” Juliet answered, her pulse beating wildly in her throat, “But then you don’t have me either.”

A long beat of silence passed, broken only by a few pieces of glass joining their brethren beneath the broken window. A stalemate.

Solomon stared at her, long and hard, and Juliet looked right through him. If she was going to go back to him, she’d never let him have her the way he had before. There would be a part of herself that she’d keep buried, deep inside, remembering what it was like to be with someone who thought of her as more than a pretty, empty bauble. Someone who cared for her.

Solomon could never take that from her, no matter how hard he tried. “Let him go, and you can have me.” Juliet repeated firmly, shoving the grief that threatened to consume her down to where it couldn’t hurt.

She’d have plenty of time to indulge it later.

She could see the brief war Solomon waged in his mind. On the one hand, Hank had slighted him by touching what was his and no one who slighted Solomon Aguiler ever lived. On the other hand...he was attached to her. In some strange, fucked up way, Solomon believed he needed her - and that was the only card she had left to play.

And it worked.

“Let him go.” Solomon barked at the men that held Hank. They hesitated for only a moment before letting him sag to the ground. Regardless of what Solomon might think, Juliet ran to him, wings on her heels. She dropped to her knees before him, horrified at the state he was in. Solomon had been even crueler than she had imagined.

For a moment, she ignored the seething man at her back in favor of the one in front of her. “Christ, Hank, what did he do to you?” She cupped his face tenderly, turning it this way and that.

“Juliet,” In a swift move that caught her completely unaware, Hank took hold of her hands. He raised his head, wincing in pain, to look over her. “What the hell are you doing here?”

She smiled bitterly. “You’re off your nut if you thought I’d let him off you. No way.” She couldn’t help the single tear that slipped down her cheek. “I’d rather die.”

“This is fucking worse,” Hank rasped. “I won’t let you. I can’t.”

Biting her lip, Juliet hugged her to him as gently as she could. For the briefest moment, he sagged in her arms, resting against her. She remembered what it had been like to see his rare smiles and to have him kiss her. What it felt like to have him inside her.

It would have to be enough.

Exhaling a long breath, she pried his hands from her, turning away from the only man she had ever loved. Solomon glared across the lawn at her, his lip curled in obvious distaste. “Finished?”

Juliet’s answering nod was curt. When Solomon held out his hand for her, she started towards him, willing herself to be strong.

Then, all at once, Hank’s voice came from behind her, low and incensed. “You’re never touching her again.”

It wasn’t until the gunshot rang through the night that Juliet realized he’d taken her gun. Solomon, of course, had his own weapon, but he dropped it the moment that a bullet shattered his left kneecap. An ear piercing scream lit the air.

At that exact moment, sirens began to sound in the distance and Juliet’s eyes widened.

Simmons.

What happened in the next few minutes was a complete blur. Later, Juliet wouldn’t be too sure what had happened. She saw Solomon fall. The few men idiotic enough to rush to his aid were downed by subsequent shots from her gun.

By the time three men lie on the ground the others wised up and began to scatter as the sirens drew ever nearer.