Chapter 10: The Last Steps
Hank would like to say that he refused her. That he didn’t put his job and patience on the line by giving into her demands. That was the official story, anyway. What he actually did was sent Bosh and Crowley out on a variety of wild goose chase errands, each of which gave him and Juliet a good half hour or so to practice in the woods behind the cabin.
He taught her to use a basic pistol - the one she was so surprisingly adept at taking apart and putting back together. He supposed it shouldn’t have surprised him that she learned to shoot it fairly quickly as well. He might have been convinced that she were sneaking in extra sessions behind his back if it weren’t for the fact that he took the weapon from her after every practice.
Juliet was a smart fucking cookie. She absorbed information like a sponge and did her best to swallow the damaging emotional baggage that came with the guns she learned to fire. The first time he handed her a loaded weapon, Hank half thought she’d bolt. Her eyes had glazed and her expression became one of thinly veiled panic.
But that had only been the first session.
The second one had been better. During the third - when her nerves had been particularly strained by another questioning session with Simmons, she hit the edge of the target, surprising the hell out of him.
She was defiant, but he supposed he should have expected that. She always wanted to go another round, or shoot a target further away, but he reminded her that he had to conserve ammo. She really wasn’t supposed to be shooting at all.
In an odd way - a way that unsettled him - they grew closer. During the times he went away to work his way deeper within the Aguiler circle he tried his best to put her from his mind but could never really do so completely. It was obvious she was in his blood - and no matter how battered or pissed he was when he returned, he always took her to bed.
Always.
He knew what they were doing was stupid - dangerous even. He also knew that Simmons had to have an idea that they were messing around. But the old man said nothing. Aside from a few suspicious stares, he let Hank have his way. Continued to let him orchestrate the routine that kept Juliet safe and Bosh and Crowley in line.
When things started to heat up, he was grateful that he had her to come back to. He spent up to a week away from the cabin at a time, and during those weeks, one move might mean the end of him.
It wasn’t as if Hank had never run in Aguiler circles before, but this time was obviously different. With Solomon and his father at one another’s throats, the streets had become a dangerous place. One corner belonged to the son and another to the old man - and they obviously had no qualms about taking one another’s men out.
Caesar had experience on his side, but Solomon had pure fucking brutality - that much was evident the first time Hank rose high enough to accompany his men out on an important mission. It turned out that mission was to kidnap his own goddamned sister. Solomon was willing to do almost anything to get leverage over his father, and it was well known that the old man was fond of his only daughter.
It made sense that Solomon would send a squad to acquire her at any cost.
Hank did his best to make peace with what he had to do. He stayed in the car and got ready to drive the moment they brought the girl back to the car. He didn’t expect that Solomon would actually hurt his own sister, but that’s exactly what the bastard did. Of course, America Aguiler was no angel herself, but no woman deserved to be hit while she was defenseless and scared.
But that was exactly what Solomon planned to do to Juliet - that and more. While it took him almost three fucking months to get anywhere near the man, when it did, it was apparent just how serious he was taking the search for Juliet. Solomon demanded no prostitutes and slept with no women, and he constantly had teams of men on the lookout for information on her.
The news that Juliet might have been taken into protective custody didn’t even seem to phase him. He was a man with a mission - and that mission was most likely murder.
It was enough to boil Hank’s blood.
In his youth, with his sister dead and his mother apathetic, Hank had been mad enough to do some stupid shit. He’d gotten in trouble and risked his life more times than he could count before he finally sobered from his grief enough to realize that he needed to make better decisions.
That there was a different way to achieve his goals.
He could be a temperamental motherfucker, but when it came to the Aguilers, he’d learned to wait and watch like a good boy. It was the damned pits, but that was how the work was done.
But this was a new trial on his patience.
Solomon was obviously on the ropes - the authorities were after him. The city was after him. Hell, his own father was after him. But he was still playing king of the hill.
And his brawn was still fucking terrified of him.
But, for the moment, Hank could do nothing but play along. It didn’t matter that he wanted to throttle Solomon every time the skinny bastard demanded to know where Juliet was. It didn’t matter that every time he thought of Solomon’s hands on her, he wanted to destroy something. All that mattered was getting that final piece of info that put him away.
That made him suffer for all the pain he’d caused.
After a particularly brutal nine day stretch in which he’d watched a bruiser make a mistake that got him offed, Hank pulled up in front of the cabin and killed his car, unable to make himself go in.
He wanted this to end. He fucking needed it to end.
Thinking that this asshole might one day get to Juliet...that he was still on the rampage killing innocent women like he’d killed Hank’s own sister tore him up inside. He was playing a dangerous game here.
How many times had he told himself that it was dangerous to get close to anyone? That the only way for him to ensure the safety of anyone he cared about was to stay far away from them? He’d tried to tell himself that this was his job. That protecting Juliet was a paycheck and a way for him to get to the Aguilers.
But even he could only keep lying to himself for so long.
Scrubbing his hands over a few days’ worth of stubble, he groaned. Maybe this was some cruel fucking twist of fate - falling in with the one woman on earth who understood exactly how it felt to be used and abused by the Aguilers. Hank had once been convinced that not a single living person could even begin to understand how he felt…
And then he met Juliet, and his shit was officially fucked.
She wasn’t his. She didn’t belong to him and she never could. After all this had blown over she’d have to go out in the world to make her own way. She’d realize that there were other men besides him - nicer men who could talk to her the way she deserved to be talked to and give her nice things.
Men who weren’t haunted by their pasts.
Juliet deserved that much. All he could do was protect her, and when the time came, let her go.
He could do that much, couldn’t he?
“You’re aiming too low.”
They had about fifteen minutes before Crowley came back from the store, and Bosh was MIA on some family business. As a result, Hank had to step up his game - but there was nothing that would make Juliet forsake her lessons. Though he assured her there was no way in hell she’d ever have to defend herself without him there, Juliet was determined as hell to hold her own.
It was hot as fuck.
Not to mention it was a treat to see what she was wearing every fucking day. She had gone from wearing the shapeless clothing the bureau provided for her to stepping into her own sense of style, and Hank found that he very much liked the low slung jeans and t-shirts that hugged her figure.
And the panties. Oh God, the panties.
At that particular moment, he was doing his best to concentrate on Juliet’s aim and not the sneaky little hint of lace peeking out above the waistband of the jeans she wore. Or the ass in the jeans themselves.
“Hank?”
“Hm?” He forced his gaze upward to see her arching a brow in his direction, the revolver held at the resting position by her side, just as he’d taught her.
“Are you paying attention?” That mischievous smile of hers was going to be his damned undoing. When she smiled like that, he could almost forget that he was headed out in another few days - or that things with Solomon were more heated than ever.
But that was nothing she needed to know.
“I just told you to aim lower.” He repeated, hoping that was what she’d been referring to. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d gotten caught staring at her ass, but Hank had learned that Juliet always fought him having his way with her if it meant time off her lessons.
Sometimes that just made things more fun.
“I’m not even aiming anymore.” She smirked. “Someone’s distracted.”
In the past two months she’d gone from a woman who shied away from him, even in the dark, to someone dangerous in the knowledge of her own allure. Was it any wonder he couldn’t concentrate on something as mundane as target practice?
“You’re wearing those fucking lacy panties. Of course I’m distracted,” he growled, his eyes darting down to the offending underwear in question. Juliet only laughed, shaking her head as she turned away from him once more. When she raised the gun, her hand was steady, her aim impressive.
Especially considering she’d only been shooting for a few weeks. “What about this?”
Hank couldn’t help an indulgent smile of pride. “That’s dead fucking on. Pull the trigger, Julie.”
A split second before she did, the young woman’s dark eyes went hard. “You know, I imagine putting one right between his eyes. Every single time.” When she fired, the shot struck a hair left of dead center.
In that moment, Hank couldn’t help but think Solomon better count his lucky stars that it was him after his sorry ass, and not Juliet. They’d both suffered at the fucker’s hands, but Juliet’s fear had morphed into a desire for vengeance that shone best when she held a weapon in her hand.
Hence why Hank never let her have one outside of their practices. If he wanted her safe, he sure as hell didn’t need her doing anything stupid on a whim.
That was his job.
“I think that’s enough for today.” His hand covered hers a moment before he took the gun from her. “Crowley will be back any minute.”
“I assume that means you want me on my best behavior?” Juliet handed over the weapon with extreme reluctance.
“Considering I won’t be doing anything he could hear you mouthing off about, I’m not too worried about it.”
Immediately, she scowled, her cheeks flushing. He loved that it was so easy to make her blush. The woman was shameless in bed, but the moment he started teasing her she got flustered.
“I do not mouth off.”
“Oh, forgive me,” Hank removed the gun’s remaining ammo in a smooth motion before dismantling it. “I meant screaming your fucking head off. Better?”
Juliet merely smacked his arm hard enough to sting before fleeing to the safety of the cabin. Hank supposed he didn’t mind, considering he got to watch the intoxicating sway of her ass as she left.
Sure enough, Crowley’s car pulled up the drive less than five minutes later. When the man himself stood from the vehicle, Hank could immediately tell he was pissed. And why not? Hank sent him all the way back to the city on supposed orders from Simmons knowing that there weren’t any.
“What the fuck, Compton?” Crowley slammed the door hard enough that several birds in neighboring trees took wing in fright. Hank, however, was far from as easily intimidated. “Simmons wasn’t even in the office?”
“He called a bit after you left,” Hank lied easily, “I couldn’t get ahold of you since you left your phone.” He had, in fact, made sure Crowley’s phone remained at the cabin, lest Simmons give the game away.
“You son of a bitch. You think I don’t know what game you’re playing?” In terms of most Bureau grunts, Crowley was pretty sizeable. But if you were comparing him to Hank, he was a bit scrawny. He, however, seemed to have forgotten that. “Sending us away so you can have time alone with Juliet. I should report your harassment to Simmons.”
Hank snorted, sizing the man up across the two feet of space that remained between them. “You’re going to tell Simmons I’m harassing you. You’d think that would get old, eventually.” He was used to men trying to get out of working with him. He’d never been a team player. They didn’t like that he was prone to rule-bending.
Or breaking, when the situation called for it.
“Not me, you ass. Juliet.” Hank’s eyes narrowed at the threat. “You’re supposed to be protecting her, not fucking her.”
Hank’s hand itched to throttle his colleague, but he forced himself to cool his temper. “I’m doing my job,” he returned coolly. “Better you do yours than get caught up playing tattle-tale.”
“I don’t know why the hell you think you’re so much better than us,” Crowley seethed, his hands curling into irate fists. “We’ve got twice the education. Half the temper. More experience and a hell of a lot better heads on our shoulders. Given half the chance, Juliet would probably make a more level-headed choice.”
So that was what this was about?
Crowley was fucking jealous. The man got to leave the premises twice a day and he was fixated on Juliet? There was a city of pussy not two hours away and he wanted what he couldn’t have. All this “harassment” bull was a front - and a shitty one at that.
That said, Hank had no idea what Simmons would do if blatantly confronted with news that one of his agents and a charge were involved. It couldn’t be good for either of them, and Juliet didn’t need any complications in her life right now.
Not when he was so close to putting Solomon away for good.
Normally, Hank was an advocate of a good punch in the mouth when someone said something he didn’t like. But this time, he felt himself backing down - if only so Crowley wouldn’t ruin some of the most peaceful days Juliet had experienced in the past decade.
“Look, Crowley,” Hank growled - a not-so genuine attempt at subtlety. “She’s had a rough time of things, ok? The last thing she needs is us fucking things up for her.”
Crowley barked a harsh laugh. “And you’re what? Her knight in shining armor? You personally ensuring her safety by screwing her every chance you get? From one criminal to another, you figure it’ll be a pretty fucking easy transition, huh?”
Hank forced himself to take a deep, steadying breath as his temper threatened to explode. He was fine with anyone in the office thinking whatever the fuck they wanted about him. He’d never placed much stock in their opinion. It was Simmons who’d hired him, and as long as Simmons had faith, that’s all that mattered.
But this wasn’t just about him. Now Crowley was insulting Juliet, and that, in Hank’s opinion, was a far less forgivable crime. “Don’t,” he managed, his expression thunderous. “Don’t talk about her like that.”
“Like what? What she is? She was Solomon Aguiler’s fucking pet for eight years, man. Don’t make her out to be an angel. She’s damaged goods and you’re just taking advantage of that.”
Hank acted without thinking. The moment the word damaged left Crowley’s mouth, his fist flew. It didn’t occur to him that he’d referred to both Juliet and himself the same way on many occasions, or that he’d reacted almost identically the first time he met her. All that mattered was that Crowley was further disrespecting a woman who’d gone through hell, and Hank would be damned if he stood for it.
He barely felt the impact. Hank hit Crowley hard enough to send him sprawling, bloodying both his lip and his nose, but he felt nothing except the rage searing through him.
“Hank!” Only Juliet’s shocked cry was enough to keep him from lashing out again. Hank took a step backwards, dropping his fist as he swallowed thickly. From the ground, Crowley stared up at the man above him triumphantly.
“You’re fucking in for it now, Compton. Assaulting a fellow agent - even Simmons can’t overlook this.”
“What the hell is going on?” Juliet hurried down the cabin’s front stairs, her expression alarmed.
“Compton’s always been a violent bastard.” Crowley rose to his hands and knees, spitting a mouthful of blood to the side. “Now he’s just showing his true colors.”
“I stopped at a single punch, so consider yourself lucky,” Hank seethed, glaring at the man before him. “You can tell Simmons whatever the hell you want, but don’t let her name ever pass your lips again.”
Before Crowley could come up with a scathing response, Hank turned on his heel to stalk back into the house before he did any more damage. As it was, Simmons was probably going to royally bust his balls. Before he could make it to his room to find his hidden stash of cigarettes, however, Juliet took firm hold of his arm.
“Hank, wait a minute. What was all that about?”
“I need to talk to Simmons,” He seethed lowly, trying and failing to quiet his rage. “That fucker needs to be reassigned.”
“Hank, talk to me.” This time, the desperate note in Juliet’s voice was enough to catch his attention. When he looked down at her, he was surprised to see her eyes wide and her complexion pale.
He’d worried her. No, beyond that. He’d scared her.
As angry as he was, Hank found he suddenly felt like an ass. This woman had been surrounded by violence for most of her adulthood and here he was, perpetuating more.
That wasn’t to say that Crowley didn’t fucking deserve it.
Hank forced himself to take a deep breath. He wasn’t good at explaining things, but this was Juliet. Unless he wanted to drive her away before his time with her was up, he would damn sure have to learn. “He called you ‘damaged’,” He finally managed, his tone gruff with ire. “He doesn’t have the fucking right. He doesn’t know shit about you.”
To his relief, Juliet’s expression, as well as her death grip on his arm, softened somewhat. Frowning, she released him with obvious reluctance before holding the front door open for him. “Hank, I am damaged. It’s not like we haven’t had this discussion a million times before.”
Somehow, her acceptance of the insult only made his blood run hotter. “It’s one thing to think that shit about yourself,” he growled, “But you change. You grow and you change. Crowley doesn’t get to say that bull because he has no idea. He read a fucking file.”
“And you?” Juliet interjected lowly. Rather than accusatory, her words were only questioning. She didn’t look at him, continuing to hold the door open obtrusively. “How well do you know me then, Hank? Well enough to know the truth, obviously.”
Hank’s eyes narrowed as he felt his chest tighten. “What truth is that?”
Juliet began to slowly shake her head. “Come on, Hank. We both know I’m no angel. The things I’ve seen...the people I’ve let die right in front of me...I’ll pay for it someday.”
Where the hell was this coming from? Juliet was stronger than this shit. He had never imagined her the type to play the victim - he had never seen her be this vulnerable. If anything, she wore a cloak of ‘don’t fuck with me’ at least a foot thick most of the time. He was used to her telling him that she wasn’t a product of Solomon’s mindfucking - that the bastard would one day get what he deserved.
This...this was a different story entirely. “What the hell should you have to pay for?” He demanded, his tone low but firm. Reaching down, he took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look him in the eye. “You made a mistake, Juliet. But you didn’t kill anyone. You didn’t force anyone to suffer. You did what you had to. Hell, I should know that better than anyone. As far as I’m concerned, no one has the right to tell you what you are. Not even fucking me.”
In the end, it didn’t matter what he thought. Sure, they had a lot in common, but only Juliet could decide who she was - who she wanted to be. The last thing she needed was to let a peon like Crowley classify her.
“And what do you think I am?” Juliet’s question came so soft that Hank had to strain to hear it. As her eyes searched his, his stomach twisted. He’d never had a woman look at him like that - both trusting and terrified all at once.
It scared the hell out of him.
“I think you’re one tough motherfucker.” He finally replied, in complete earnestness. “And once we bag Solomon, your life is going to be a gigantic pool of opportunity.”
Hank realized, in that moment, that it was the first time he’d uttered those words out loud. He’d been thinking them for a while. Quite possibly ever since he and Juliet had somehow bridged the gap that separated them.
And he wasn’t referring to fucking her.
Hank had met a lot of women in his life. He wasn’t proud of how he treated them - or the fact that his own mother had nearly gotten him killed on several occasions. He was far from an authority on the fucking female species. That said, he knew a tough-as-nails woman when he saw one, and Juliet was the textbook definition of a fighter.
She was different.
Watching her struggle - her ups and downs, the way she picked herself up after a particularly hard interrogation session and still managed to smile over some new damned clothes...that was a fucking marvel.
One he had to make sure she appreciated. “Don’t you dare fucking hold that door for me,” he ordered lowly, “Or any man. At the very least, you deserve that.” That said, he wrapped an arm around her waist to take hold of the door and boost her through before him, wondering why his stomach felt like it was in free fall.
For someone who wasn’t so good with women and pep talks, he was pretty sure that he had done alright. He could only hope Juliet agreed.
Though Hank had been expecting the call that came from Simmons the next day, that didn’t make it any more welcome. The elder man told him he’d be leaving the following day and to get ready - he’d be making overtures to Solomon Aguiler himself. They were under pressure from above to get the matter sorted out quickly, which usually meant either violence or a quick takedown.
Somehow, Hank seriously hoped for the former. It might not be in his job description, but he was only human. Of course he wanted revenge - for both Juliet and his sister.
But if he was going straight for Solomon, that meant that the operation was almost over. That his time with Juliet was almost over.
Hank felt oddly conflicted.
He’d been waiting for this his entire life. It was a shot at the man who had almost been the end of him - a specter who’d haunted his fucking dreams since he was a kid. But now, he almost wished he could stall for a few more weeks.
Because of his damned ex-lover.
Hank couldn’t decide what was more ironic: That another woman had dropped into his life that once stood at the side of the man he hated the most, or, somehow, that he understood said woman more deeply than he had any other.
Wanted her life to be everything she dreamed and more.
He really was a fucking basket case.
“Hank?” Juliet caught him unawares with his beer in front of a TV show he hadn’t really been watching. His muscles burned from a bodyweight workout earlier that day, and when he started, he cursed lowly.
It was almost worth it to see that mischievous little smile. “What’s up?” He finally grunted, doing his best not to take in her delights in the form-fitting jeans and t-shirt she wore. She’d been in her room all day, and, somehow, he’d resisted the urge to barge his way in and confine her even further to her bed.
The woman had cast some ungodly spell over him.
“How’d things go with Simmons? Did you talk about Crowley?” She came to plop down next to him on the couch and he reflexively pulled her against him to run his fingers through her fluffy curls. They were still damp from the shower and she smelled like heaven. It was enough to prevent him from getting pissed at the very mention of Crowley’s name.
“Yeah. He tried to get me fired, which I expected. But I got off easy. I’ll have a week of suspension after I finish this case, which is fine by me. Been meaning to take a fucking vacation.” When Simmons had raised the issue with him, he seemed more amused than anything else. If anything, he had to realize as much as Hank how moody Crowley was. He needed a few more years under his belt and the stick pulled out of his ass.
“So...where will you go once you leave here?” He loved that she leaned against him without hesitation. That she traced the lines of his bare, tattooed arms lackadaisical, completely unafraid of the tough exterior he showed to the world.
And blissfully unaware of how goddamned easily she’d worked her way beneath it.
“No fucking clue.” He mused, concentrating less on the team losing on TV and more on the woman nestled against him. Truth be told, he’d rather not think about what happened after this was all over. At least, not now. Not when she was so warm, soft and real against him.
Who the hell needed depressing shit at a time like this? “Probably somewhere sunny and tropical.”
“Mmm.”Juliet hummed her approval. “Sounds nice.” She was silent a beat before speaking again, in a much softer tone. “Maybe I’ll come with you.”
Hank’s heart stuttered in his chest. Though he knew she had to be talking out of her ass, he couldn’t deny (at least to himself), that the prospect was more than a little appealing to him. He’d never been one who liked to lay out on beaches and drink fruity shit out of coconuts, but watching Juliet do it? Watching the smile on her pretty face as she lived, free and clear, for the first time in her young life?
That was fucking tempting. As tempting as it was impossible.
“I’m leaving tomorrow,” he changed the subject, unwilling to indulge the warmth in his belly. “Probably for the last time.”
Juliet immediately stiffened. “So...you’re going after Solomon, then?”
“Thanks to the info you’ve given us, we’ve been able to move up the schedule. That and I’ve probably got enough street cred at this point to get in with him personally and take the bastard down.” He swallowed thickly. “Meaning you’ll be able to live your life without looking over your shoulder.”
“And we leave here. Both of us.” She replied, her tone carefully neutral. Straightening, Juliet looked up at him, her expression unreadable. “It’s kind of hard to believe.” Hank had to assume she was talking about her own situation, even though she was looking at him.
“Believe it, Julie. We’re almost there.” Why the hell didn’t he feel better saying that? “What are you gonna do. You’ll be free and clear - you can go anywhere. Do anything.”
“I think...I want to sing again.” Hank arched a brow in surprise. He hadn’t expected her to answer so quickly.
“Really? You’re going to go for it.”
“I never really found out what it was like to get by on my own steam, and singing’s what I’m good at. Might as well stick to my strengths, right?”
“Fuck yeah.” He didn’t even hesitate. “Your voice is amazing...not that you’ve let me hear as much of it as I’d like.” He was half-joking. If Hank ever wanted to hear Juliet’s amazing pipes, all he had to do was sneak by her room and eavesdrop on her practicing. When she wasn’t with him or playing Bond outside, she was almost always in her room, turning simple guitar riffs into poetry.
But, for some reason, she never wanted to sing in front of him - and he’d all but driven her up the wall asking. “I wrote a song.”
Her admission caught him so off guard that, for a moment, Hank thought he must have misheard her. “You...wrote a song?” Juliet was usually very private about her music. It only took her catching him flipping through her notebooks once before said notebooks disappeared from her desktop.
The dark-skinned woman nodded slowly, her gaze never leaving his. “Do you want to hear it?”
Fuck, now he knew he couldn’t be hearing her right. “You wanna sing...for me?” He wasn’t sure if he should throw her over his shoulder and hurry to her room before she could change her mind or if she was just messing with him. The last time he checked, however, Juliet didn’t joke about her craft.
“Do you wanna hear it?”
Ok, option one then. Without another word, Hank pitched Juliet over his shoulder, smirking at her squawk of surprise before he hurried towards her room. In the space of a minute, he plunked her down on the edge of the bed and situated himself in her desk-chair before grabbing her guitar. When he held it out to her with an anticipatory grin, Juliet couldn’t help but return the gesture, rolling her eyes at his obvious enthusiasm.
“Don’t act like you don’t sneak around listening to me practice. I can hear you, you know.”
Hank chose not to address that particular accusation at the moment. He had bigger fish to fry. “Let’s hear it then.”
Juliet’s smile slowly faded as she took the guitar from him. She settled on the bed with the instrument in her arms before strumming a hesitant chord. She looked so reticent that, for a few seconds, Hank wondered if he should give her a pass. Maybe she wasn’t ready. Maybe she needed more time.
But he stood firm. The Juliet he knew could handle this, and he wasn’t going to let her take the easy way out. So he waited.
It took a few minutes of Juliet toying with the guitar and building herself up. He could see the effort it took for her to sing those first few notes, and he felt an odd sense of pride in her, though he had done absolutely shit all.
But when she started, he forgot everything else.
“Fire
Fire in you.
Fire
I feel fire in you.
I can’t escape fate that’s bound us
Flames are growing all around us
And you lit them
That Fire in You.”
The sound was deep, bluesy and soulful. From the very first note, Hank was utterly transfixed. It wasn’t until the second stanza that he noticed, with no small of surprise, that she was singing about him. Him.
“Fire
Fire for you
Fire
I feel fire for you
You show me how to feel alive
You got me tangled up inside
With this fire
Fire for you.”
Hank didn’t realize that he was holding his breath until his chest started to burn. When he finally exhaled, it was long and unsteady. He’d never felt like this - not once in his entire fucking life. Heart full, eyes open...like that moment was ripe for any and everything that could have been.
“Fire
Fire in us.
Fire
Fire burns in us.
Though our time is soon done
You still showed me the sun
And this fire
Fire in us.”
Hank wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t an emotional person - knew the importance of shutting away said emotions before they could come and bite him in the ass. But, somehow, he couldn’t shut this away. This was too enormous, too overwhelming to bury and ignore.
Juliet had given him what was most precious to her - something she had almost lost when she was caged away. He’d have to be a fucking idiot to simply throw that back in her face - and while Hank was many things (most of them bad), he wasn’t an idiot.
For almost a full minute, he simply stared at her. Eventually, Juliet’s cheeks colored and she dropped her gaze, setting her guitar aside. “Don’t just look at me like that. Say something. Do you like it?”
Somehow, Hank thought “like” might be a bit weak for how he felt about what she’d just shown him. For once in his life, he put in the thought it took and did the best he could to express his feelings, complicated as they were.
“Julie...that was...that was fucking amazing.” Rising from his seat, he went to join her on the bed, tipping her chin up gently to meet his earnest gaze. “You have a ridiculous talent, woman, and you’d better know it. You’re going to do amazing.”
When her eyes unexpectedly filled with tears, he pulled her into his arms. He was stretching the boundaries of his emotional wherewithal today, that was for sure. But, just for today, Hank didn’t think he minded so much.
When had he stopped being so preoccupied with fucking her and learned to care about her well-being? Christ, it was almost like...fuck it was like Morgan. He’d let his sister die, but he’d be damned if he saw Juliet in such danger. He would put an end to this once and for all.
And no one else would suffer like they had.
“Hank.” Juliet murmured his name softly and when the heat of her breath warmed his shirt, his cock stirred - emotional or not. Ultimately, he couldn’t avoid the effect she had on him. He had to wonder if another woman would ever manage to get to him like Juliet did.
It was something he simultaneously wanted and feared. “Hm?”
“Promise me you’ll be fine.” Juliet raised her head to look up at him, her gaze entreating. “That you’ll come back perfectly fine.”
At her request, Hank snorted. “It’d take more than a fucktard like Solomon to take me down. We’ll have guns in every corner, Julie. It’s going to be fine...and then you’ll be free. You hear me? Free.”
She kissed him. Though he’d been expecting it, a low groan of sensation worked its way up from Hank’s chest. He crushed her against him, lying back against the coverlet beneath them as Juliet’s arms wound around his neck.
If he were selfish, he’d want moments like this to last forever. To keep Juliet with him until he knew that she could always be happy. But Hank knew shit like that didn’t happen to guys like him. Juliet deserved more than a man who’d made a vendetta his entire life. She deserved a fresh start.
And that was what she’d get.