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.”
“Juliet.” Simmons’ voice was low and carefully neutral. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do!” Why the hell couldn’t she stop crying? This was all on her. She had no right to cry. “Send me back! I should never have run. I should have let him-”
“Juliet.” Simmons’ answer was swift and sharp, his gaze intense. “You think Hank would want you saying this bull? You think he wants you back under Solomon’s influence?”
Juliet’s eyes squeezed closed as she exhaled a shuddering breath. She had to try and see through the panic that threatened to envelop her. Juliet had spent most of her adulthood cowering in fear. She had seen things that would be forever burned into her memory. Things that still gave her nightmares. There were things that scared her so much she forgot how to breathe and wished she were dead...but she’d never been this terrified. There was absolutely no contest. “He can’t die.” She finally managed, her nails digging so deeply into her palms that they drew blood. “I won’t let him.”
“Juliet, listen to me.” Simmons’ hand curled around her shoulder, forcing her attention to him. “No one’s going to die if I can help it. But we have to think this through. We can’t make any rash decisions.”
She nodded slowly, taking a few deep breaths. Slowly, her fingers uncurled from her palms and she reached up to wipe the moisture from her cheeks. Hank had spent the past few months teaching her about her own self-worth - reminding her that she was much more than Solomon Aguiler’s personal chew toy. He’d shown her how to defend herself. Been the inspiration for the first song she’d written in years.
If she lost her head now, she wouldn’t be able to help him. As much as it hurt - as scared as she was - she had to listen to Simmons. It was the only way Hank was going to come out of this alive.
Once again, she’d have to place her trust in a man she barely knew.
Juliet straightened, running a hand through her mussed curls, before she faced Simmons’ squarely, her face set in determination. “Alright. So, what’s the plan?”
**
It had been a long while since things had gone Solomon’s way. Since the manor was attacked, it had been one disaster after the other. First his father had seized all the good corners and all but monopolized the city’s drug trade and he had been forced underground. Then he found out the FBI had Juliet and she was most likely spilling every single detail she’d heard over the years. Then he lost Blackjack.
But now, all that grief was finally coming to fruition. Fate had dumped his salvation into his lap, and soon Juliet would be his again. In the meantime, the FBI douchebag was serving as a punching bag for Solomon’s frustrations - and he had a lot built up.
Every time he imagined the fucker with his hands on Juliet, he punched him - and Solomon could think of nothing else. He’d been her first. For years, he made sure that any other man that touched her went through him first, and that sweet little cunt of hers belonged to him and him alone. But this fucker? If what Crowley had spewed was right, he had been balls deep in Juliet his fair share of times.
And Solomon couldn’t stand for that. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” By now, his fists were bloodied and Compton’s face was a mess, but Solomon hardly cared. “Thought you’d swoop in and save her? That you’d get inside her and then she’d be all yours? Don’t fucking underestimate me, pendejo. I don’t give my shit away.”
He massaged his slick knuckles as Hank’s head lolled backward. His muscular form shifted in the chair, even though his bonds were so tight they had to be chaffing. He spat out a mouthful of blood, grimacing a moment before he spoke, his voice slurred and heavy. “She doesn’t belong to you.”
Solomon’s eyes narrowed in disbelief. He had to be mishearing this motherfucker. He’d been beating him for almost five days straight and he still had the balls to talk back to him. “The fuck you say?”
Solomon couldn’t tell if the sound Hank made was a cough or a laugh. “I said she doesn’t belong to you, idiot.”
“Who the fuck does she belong to then?” Solomon grabbed his collar, all but screaming the words into his ruined face. “You!? What a fucking joke!”
“No one,” Hank spat with surprising vehemence. “She’s not an object, she’s a goddamned person. Her own person. And you’re never getting her back.”
Solomon punched him in the stomach so hard that Hank wheezed, his words stolen from him. It was the only thing he could think of to shut the fucker up. Whirling to his desk, Solomon snatched up his loaded revolver and pointed it at Hank’s somehow smug face. All he had to do was put a bullet in his skull and it would all be over. He wouldn’t have to hear his fucking gloating anymore, and he could stop playing nice with the Feds.
But then he wouldn’t get Juliet - and that was the whole point of this insane venture.
Solomon hadn’t spoken to his father in weeks, but even Caesar had called to tell him how moronic it was to mess with the US government over a single piece of pussy. Especially considering that piece had the power to bring down both of their operations. But Solomon had long grown tired of listening to the old ass. He would get her back on his own, and then things would go back to the way they used to be.
He just needed Juliet.
They had moved since the fiasco with Blackjack and now he ran his operation out of an abandoned warehouse on the edge of town. After putting not one, but two perimeters around the building and hiring every fucker he could find with an inclination towards violence that sought a paycheck, Solomon felt stronger than he had in a long while. The Feds had fucked with him and now he was fucking them right back. He would go down in history as the city’s only man to escape the FBI unscathed. His father could never match that shit.
The tradeoff was supposed to happen tomorrow. One more day until she was back with him.
If he was truthful with himself, Solomon could hardly remember a time without Juliet. From the first moment he saw her sing, he knew he wanted her. That he had to make her his. When she began to drift away from him, he had only forced her closer. Until he was all she knew. He needed her...she’d never understood that.
But he would make her understand if it was the last thing he did.
Though everything had already been arranged, Solomon had one last trick up his sleeve. He left his makeshift office, closing the door behind him, before withdrawing a small piece of crumpled paper from his pants pocket.
He hesitated only a moment before dialing the number.
**
Juliet hadn’t slept much in the past forty eight hours. She was over the moon that Simmons had decided to allow her to help with the operation, but that wasn’t enough to temper her worry that Solomon was inflicting irreparable damage upon Hank. She tried to tell herself that he wasn’t an amateur - that he must have been prepared for this possibility.
But that didn’t take away the nausea that lingered in the pit of her stomach. She knew Solomon better than any of the men around her. She knew exactly what he was capable of. Which meant that her anxiety was far more justified.
The hotel room was bustling around her. She didn’t think they’d had a quiet moment since they arrived. The agents on duty slept in shifts, but five were always awake to maintain a tight perimeter around the hotel. She herself had only snatched a few naps here and there. Considering what Simmons had asked her to do, that wasn’t too surprising. They were going to try to pull a one-two on one of the most paranoid men in the business. To be completely honest, Juliet wasn’t completely sure what Simmons planned would work, and she’d told him so.
His only answer had been for her to have faith. He reiterated to her that he’d been doing this a long time, and he had a near hundred percent success rate. Near.
Of course, Juliet’s mind was filled with all that might go wrong. Solomon could get spooked halfway through the exchange and smell a rat. He might decide that he didn’t want her half as much as he wanted and simply shoot Hank to rid himself of the liability. They could be sitting here, idle, while Hank’s body was being dumped in a river somewhere…
The thought was enough to bring panic roaring back to the forefront of her mind. Juliet stood from the bed, rushing to the bathroom to shut the door behind her. When she gazed at herself in the mirror, the dark circles under her eyes stood out starkly against her chocolate skin. Her curls were a mussed mess and her lips were chapped and cracked. She looked an absolute mess - but Juliet had never cared less about herself.
All she could think about was Hank.
Hank, who had slowly opened up to her and no one else. The brusque, gruff, foul-mouthed man who had saved her from herself.
Once upon a time - half an age ago - Juliet thought herself in love with Solomon. That love had quickly revealed itself to be nothing more than childish infatuation. The moment the man showed his real colors, Juliet wanted nothing more than to get away. She simply hadn’t been able to.
What she felt for Hank was completely different. As their weeks together had passed, she tried to prepare herself to give him up. Told herself that what was between them was only physical. She would always appreciate how Hank had helped her, but she’d be able to leave him scott free the moment they captured Solomon. Now, she knew better.
She felt far more for Hank than she ever had for Solomon. Juliet still counted herself sheltered in the ways of the world, but she knew that she’d only been lying to herself. Hank was more than just a lay. More than a friend and confidante...he had become her world. The realization was both frightening and exhilarating all at once - even more so when she came to grips with the fact that she might lose him.
Backing against the tile wall behind her, Juliet slid onto the floor, burying her face in her hands. She didn’t want to cry. God knew she’d been doing far too much of that lately, it wasn’t going to help Hank in any way, shape, form or fashion. She needed to muscle up and get ready for what was coming. Make sure that she did everything in her power for the operation to run smoothly.
She was bracing herself to leave the bathroom when her phone buzzed in her pocket. For a moment, Juliet wondered who the hell could be calling her. The only people who had her cell phone number were Agents - and they were all outside in the hotel room.
All except Hank.
Juliet fumbled for the phone so quickly she almost dropped it. When she finally answered, her tone was breathless, stomach clenched with wary hope. “Hank?”
The three seconds that passed before she got an answer could have been a lifetime. But the voice that finally spoke wasn’t Hank’s.
“Hello, mi amor.”
Juliet inhaled sharply, her chest tightening. In response, Solomon merely chuckled. “Expecting someone else, I think.”
She steeled herself, taking a deep breath. This man had already taken far too much from her. She wouldn’t give him the pleasure of taking anything else.
“What do you want, Solomon?” Her voice held only the slightest hint of a tremor. In that, she surprised even herself.
“Now that’s a tone I’ve never heard you take with me, dulce. I’m wounded.” Somehow, Juliet doubted he was as wounded as she’d been when he shot her two fucking times. “Don’t you miss me even a little?”
“No.” There was no need to mince words. She wouldn’t bother to lie to him anymore.
“Ouch.” She expected that he might be angry. Instead, Solomon only sounded mildly amused. “Someone’s gotten feisty on her little vacation.”
Juliet fought the urge to throw the phone across the bathroom. Feisty her ass. “A lot can happen when another man dips his dick in you.” She immediately stiffened, her blood running cold. “But he’s paid for that, I suppose. Still, there are some things you can’t get back.”
“Don’t you fucking touch him,” she seethed, her tone venomous. “Or I swear to God-”
“You swear what, dulce? I’ve already ruined his face. Maybe I move onto choicer parts of him next.” Being so angry that moisture stained her cheeks was a new sensation for Juliet - one that only Solomon had ever inspired. Now, she bit her lip so hard it bled as her vision blurred.
“You fucking monster.”
“You know me best amor. You always have. That’s why I need you.” He didn’t need her. He only wanted to possess her. That was all he had ever wanted. “I’m so looking forward to seeing you.”
“I wish I could say the same.” This time she couldn’t hide her grief.
“I’m sure you’ll be happy to see this FBI pendejo, yeah?” For the first time, Solomon’s voice went tight with anger. “If I let you see him.”
Juliet felt her heart drop into her stomach. What the hell did he mean if? “It’s occurred to me that I don’t like this fucker very much. I don’t like anyone who touches my property. It might serve me better to just put him down like the dog he is.”
“No.” The word escaped her before she could stop it - and the desperation in Juliet’s voice was painfully clear. “Please.”
“Ah.” The smug satisfaction in Solomon’s tone made her tremble. “That’s what I like to hear. You are so lovely when you beg, amor.” What was the point of all this? Had he called her just to gloat? He would get what he wanted the next day - at least in theory. Had he suddenly changed his mind and decided to go off book?
The muffled sound of movement came through the receiver a moment before he continued. “I want you, Juliet. And I want you tonight.” He might have shocked her more if he revealed he was in the bathroom behind her.
“Solomon, what-”
“Listen to what I’m telling you, Julieta,” he hissed in demand. “You’re coming to me, tonight. Within the next hour. Either you find a way to get here, alone, or I hang your little toy from the nearest streetlight.”
He would do it. There was no doubt in Juliet’s mind that he would.
“Solomon,” she tried to reason with him, her voice admirably calm. “I’m surrounded by FBI agents. After Blackjack-”
“You killed Blackjack, you little puta. You did - and you’ll deal with the consequences. I don’t care what it takes. You’re here in an hour. Do you understand me?”
“Yes.” Juliet didn’t hesitate. “I understand.”
“Good.” She could all but see his smug smile. “See you soon, amor.”
For a full minute after the call ended, Juliet sat in the middle of the bathroom floor, wondering what the hell she was going to do. There was no way she could get away from the plethora of agents in the room and around the hotel. Thanks to the incident with Blackjack last week, they were watching her like a hawk. She wouldn’t get away - and certainly not in an hour.
She could tell Simmons what had happened...and risk the time it took to come up with another plan. She had an hour - less than that now. An hour before Solomon took Hank’s life...and left her to live with the guilt.
What the hell was she supposed to do?