The Bodyguard: A BWWM Bad Body Romance(5)

She forced herself to take a breath, stepping carefully over his body and into the otherwise deserted kitchen. Here, it seemed, the battle was already over. There was a veritable ton of shattered glass, destroyed equipment, broken lights and a bevy of overturned furniture. There were also a few more bodies, which Juliet did her best not to linger over.

The kitchen door was unblocked. There was literally nothing keeping her from fleeing into the front yard. And if whatever was going on there was finished, then she could bolt for the main gate...there was a possibility that whoever had broken into the manor left it open!

Juliet suffered a split second of indecision. The prospect of what might happen if someone caught her was, for a moment, breathtakingly terrifying.

But only for a second.

Then, she was sprinting for the door, barely able to believe that she had gotten this far. She was ten paces away - and then five. Then, out of nowhere, an arm shot from behind the overturned kitchen table to latch onto her ankle.

Juliet went sprawling, hitting the ground hard enough to momentarily stun herself. It only took a moment, however, before she turned to see who had impeded her progress.

She stopped breathing.

It was Solomon. His face and mouth were bloodied, but he was coherent enough to be staring daggers at her, and his grip on her ankle was like iron. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” He demanded, beginning to drag her towards him in increments. Fear locked Juliet’s throat closed. She couldn’t have replied if she wanted to. This was it.

This was the end for her.

There was murder in Solomon’s eyes. Everything had obviously gone wrong and now he was going to take it out on her - punish her for trying to leave. It was exactly what Juliet had always feared - her nightmare had come to fruition.

Which was why, oddly, panic gave her strength she hadn’t known she possessed. Twisting her leg in his grip, Juliet kicked out with her opposite foot. When she connected, Solomon bellowed in pain and even more blood gushed.

And he let go.

Juliet couldn’t believe her luck. With a shout of triumph she leapt to her feet and yanked the kitchen door open. She could still hear the distant sounds of gunfire, and she could most definitely smell smoke, but if she didn’t move now, she had no doubt that Solomon would be on top of her inside a minute - injured or not.

As she stepped into the fading evening light, there came a deafening report from behind her - the closest gunshot yet - and, all at once, a searing pain in her side nearly drove her to her knees.

Fuck. Fuck.

She couldn’t even find the breath to cry out - Juliet was far too shocked to do that. Instead, she just grasped at her midsection - just below her ribcage - and forced herself to stumble forward. She was so close. So goddamned close!

The main gate was thirty yards away...twenty-five...twenty…

Another explosion of pain-this time in her shoulder. When Juliet stumbled again, she fell to the lawn. The gate was ten feet away, taunting her. Now, she knew how foolish she had been to imagine she would reach it.

It hurt to move, and it hurt to breathe. In any event, the young woman was pretty sure that someone would show up soon to finish her. If it wasn’t Solomon, maybe it would be Caesar, or Blackjack. Maybe it would be one of the men who had breached the manor. All Juliet knew for sure was that she didn’t care anymore. None of that mattered.

She was going to die here.

At least, she mused, somewhat delirious from blood loss, I don’t have to go back to him. I’ll never have to go back to him.

And that thought made her lips curve into the first real smile in years.

I’ll never go back.





Chapter 2: Unlikely Pairing


It was too early for this shit.

Not only that, but, the last time Hank checked, he was supposed to be on leave for the next three weeks. He busted his ass for six months on his last case, nearly got his head blown off and for what? So they could call him again right in the middle of his would-be vacation?

He didn’t fucking think so. Someone was about to get a piece of his mind.

He slammed into the office with all the force of a hurricane, striding forward with single-minded purpose. No one who laid eyes on him tried to stop him. They knew better than that. Instead, they merely leapt out of the way as fast as humanly possible. It they hadn’t, Hank might very well have tossed someone across the room - and that never ended well.

His stride across the floor went unimpeded until he reached his supervisor’s office. Hank banged on the door with force just shy of what might have caved it. At the harsh sounds of his anger, everyone within a twenty foot radius winced.

But no one intervened.

He was made to wait a good minute or so before the door finally opened and Hank was faced with a man of similar height to himself - slender, with a pale face, piercing blue eyes and graying hair swept back from a wide brow. Unlike everyone else in the office, he didn’t seem cowed by Hank’s presence. “Ah, Compton.” His tone was mild - almost pleased, “Good of you to come in.”

Hank could have choked the life out of his pencil neck. “‘Good of me to come in?’” He sneered, incensed, “I’m supposed to have three weeks leave, Simmons. Why the hell is the department contacting me?”

The pale man sighed, opening the door wider to invite the hulk of a man before him inside. “If you’re going to be insubordinate, do it inside, please.”