Chapter 9: Complicated
Hank Compton was a volatile man - that much Juliet knew. But she was always surprised by how upset he got over their questioning sessions. It was his job to question her as an informant, and she had no doubt that he’d questioned many people before her.
But watching him stomp out of the room after he’d gotten the details of her depressing life with Solomon was almost enough to yank her from the residual melancholy. Moments after the door slammed behind him, the minute glow of a cigarette lit the evening air and she sighed, glancing up to where Simmons was packing up the recording equipment.
“He’s almost as bad at this as I am.”
The older man’s lips quirked in amusement. “Usually he’s not so righteously pissed after a session, but this is the Aguilers we’re dealing with. It’s personal. That’s something that you two have in common.”
No kidding. It was the only reason they’d been brought together in the first place.
“Simmons…” Juliet bit her lip, hesitating slightly. Though her thoughts had been filled with the idea of having Hank in her bed until the questioning started, now they leaned more towards the man himself - and the prickly aura he always exuded. She’d found, over the past weeks, that she could work her way beneath that aura - as long as she remained persistent. “Can I ask you something, about Hank?”
Something had bothered her, lingering in the back of her mind, ever since she and Hank had been intimate the first time. Juliet couldn’t forget the violent and intimidating story Crowley and Bosh told her about Hank dealing with Solomon’s uncle. They made it sound like Hank’s temper had gotten the better of him and that he had killed the unprepared man in cold blood. Juliet was all for the notion that the Aguilers deserved to kick the bucket, but not when they were unarmed and unexpecting. Those were cowards’ tactics.
She had never questioned Hank’s dedication to his job, but the idea that he might have murdered a man like that bothered her. Solomon murdered men carelessly. He murdered children.
“Ask away, as long as you understand that I might not be able to answer.”
Of course. When a man was as forthright as Simmons, Julia sometimes forgot that he had to be fairly high up the Federal chain to be running his own team.
The young woman twisted her fingers together atop the table where Hank had, until recently, been sitting across from her. “I heard...I heard that once, Hank killed one of the key witnesses for the case. I don’t know if he did it by accident, or if it was intentional,” she went on quickly, afraid to see the expression on Simmons’ face. She could only pray that he didn’t ask her where she’d gotten her information. The last thing she wanted was to get Bosh and Crowley to develop a grudge against her when they were supposed to be watching her back. “But I just...I can’t imagine him killing someone in cold blood like that.”
Sure, Hank was a little rough around the edges, and he could be brusque as hell, but Juliet couldn’t even begin to equate the man with someone as despicable as Solomon Aguiler. No fucking way.
Simmons sighed, pausing to take a swig of the beer he’d grabbed from the fridge when he arrived. By now, it had to be lukewarm, but that didn’t seem to bother him. “That’s something we’re not supposed to talk about.”
Of course it was. They were discussing murder. “Meaning that if you ever repeat this, it’ll be my job. We clear on that, Juliet?” The young woman’s eyes widened as Simmons continued. He perched on the edge of the sofa, finishing his beer in a long swallow before his tired eyes met hers.
“Not that I can go into any huge amount of detail, but suffice it to say that Antonio “Tony” Aguiler thought he could escape. He was a big, mean fucker - so mean that half the guys in the department were scared to interrogate him. Hank was the only one up to the task. During the second session, Tony went in on him.” Simmons’ mouth drew into a tight line. “Got in a few good punches before Hank started fighting back. Size be damned, he got torn the hell up. Hank in a righteous rage is not something I’d want to see, but, on this occasion, you could attribute his actions completely to self-defense. Tony would have killed him and not batted an eyelash over it.”
Juliet didn’t know very much about Solomon’s uncle. She’d only had a few interactions with him, but, over time, she’d come to realize that all the Aguiler men were big and mean. It seemed to run in their blood. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised that Tony had gone for Hank.
Even if the thought chilled her blood.
“Tony ended up in the hospital and, per regulation, I put Hank on probation for a while. When he came back, the first thing he wanted was to interrogate the man again - and he promised he’d do it right. No physicality. Not that he would have been able to in the hospital. When he got there, Aguiler’s men had already found him. Probably figured the big guy would sing like a bird with all the pressure put on him. The official cause of death was cardiac arrest...but you and I know better.”
It was a brutal story - yet another example that the Aguilers were willing to do any and everything to cover their tracks. But hearing it was enough to lighten the weight on Juliet’s chest.
So Hank hadn’t killed Antonio. Getting into a fist fight was an entirely different matter - especially when his life was on the line. Hank had just been protecting himself…
And he’d won a fight against Antonio Aguiler.
That, in and of itself, was impressive.
“So he didn’t kill him.”
Simmons frowned. “He didn’t save him either. That’s part of the job too, Juliet.”
“But you can’t think his death was Hank’s fault. Caesar killed him. His own brother…” She grimaced at the thought. The man had no loyalties whatsoever - unless they involved money and personal gain. “He’s a monster.”
“Yes, he is.” Simmons agreed with her without hesitation. “But Hank’s job description goes beyond vendettas, Juliet. He was supposed to protect Antonio until we got results. We weren’t nearly finished with him.” His expression grew grave. “In this line of work, you can’t pick and choose your loyalties. You either do the whole job or don’t do it at all. There is no in between.”
Juliet wanted to defend him. Hank had just as much of a vendetta against the Aguilers as she did - asking him to take emotion out of the equation was impossible...But he was the one who had decided to do this. Not that it was any of her business, but if she had to see Hank putting his life in danger, she’d feel better if he were doing it with a level head on his shoulders.
Sighing, she rose from the table herself. There was a headache brewing at the back of her neck, and she wanted to make sure Hank wasn’t destroying the back of the house. “I don’t envy you guys, Simmons.”
The older man snorted in sour amusement. “No one in their right mind does.”
Juliet honestly didn’t know which was harder: tiptoeing around Hank when they’d been at one another’s throats or trying to avoid the urge to creep into his bed at every opportunity. Of course, one of them was there to do a job, and Hank executed his duties in the typical fashion. Another interview with her meant more information the government had to process - and that meant that, ultimately, Hank would set out on another mission to get in with the Aguilers.
But, before all that, he cursed and whined over paperwork over their miniscule kitchen table and railed at Crowley and Bosh anytime they dared to interrupt him.
It was clear to Juliet now that, not only did neither of the younger men like Hank, they were intimidated as hell by him. Whether that was because they really thought that he killed Antonio Aguiler or for other reasons entirely, she couldn’t be sure. All she knew was that they snuck around him like inciting the man’s attention would mean their heads...and she supposed they weren’t entirely wrong.
Just because she and Hank had agreed that there was no point to resisting the heat between them didn’t mean that things were suddenly all sunshine and roses. Hank was still Hank - which meant he was prone to outbursts and frustrated tirades - mostly when he was talking to Simmons. But Juliet found that she didn’t quite mind as much as she used to. Now, when Hank snapped at her, it was almost worth it for the stammered apologies he offered her when the day was over.
Or the way he merely thrust a beer in her general direction to make amends.
It wasn’t as if she had many overt examples of romance to compare his intentions to. Even before she’d known that Solomon meant to own her, she had always considered his extravagant overtures more convenient than flattering. At least when Hank went out of his way to do things for her, she knew that even the small gestures meant something. Nothing about Hank Compton was ever ingenuine - for better or worse.
After her most recent bout of questioning, the man was sullen for a good few days - far longer than she herself liked to linger over the details of the past. When Juliet woke up at night in a cold sweat, she did her best to forget her dreams. No good could come of lingering on them. But Hank...Hank was a different matter altogether...which was why it was probably better that he kept his promise to her sooner rather than later.
About a week and a half after Simmons’ last visit, Hank tossed his phone on the couch after another impromptu call. From what Juliet could hear, they’d been arguing about Bosh and Crowley’s attentiveness in the event of Hank’s absence. Juliet thought the two did about as well as could be expected at their job - they were in the middle of nowhere; and the more time passed without a visit from Solomon and his henchman, the more she wondered if they were actually looking for her. According to Simmons, they might have bigger fish to fry in the wake of the family feud between father and son.
Juliet knew it would do her no good to be lulled into a sense of false security, but Hank seemed so righteously involved in the prospect of keeping her from harm that it was easy to relax around him. Bosh and Crowley probably meant well, but they were far more lax than their colleague.
Juliet watched Hank stalk out onto the porch to light yet another cigarette and found herself caught somewhere between amusement and worry. Sometimes, she wished there was more she could do. Really, all she did was lounge around the house all day while Hank carried out Simmons’ orders and made sure everything was copacetic with Bosh and Crowley. Though she knew it wasn’t her job, she found that, more often than not, she felt idle. But what the hell was she supposed to do when she couldn’t even shoot a gun properly?
After a moment’s hesitation, Juliet joined Hank on the back porch. For a moment, she marveled at how good the man looked in his ragged jeans and tank-top, tattooed arms flexing in the midday sunlight. She thought she had always appreciated a man in a suit, but Hank seemed ten times more male than his suited counterparts.
He made the face of the organization that was supposed to be protecting her look that much realer. “Hank.”
When she said his name, his head whipped around, snarl already in place - but at the sight of her, his expression softened. “Fuck, sorry Julie.” He grunted, taking a drag of his cigarette. “I wanna fucking throttle Simmons.”
She laughed softly. “You always want to throttle him. Take a deep breath...preferably one that’s not filled with nicotine.” She stepped up next to him to tug the cigarette from the death grip he had on it. “That’s not good for you.” Hank glowered for a moment before finally shaking his head.
“I’m supposed to be watching your back, and here you are, denying me the simple pleasures in life.” His griping was hardly enough to make Juliet feel guilty - especially when she had another way for him to blow off steam. One that they both desperately needed.
“Hank...I didn’t come out here to deny you pleasure.” Juliet couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so brazen - or, indeed, if she ever had. But, somehow, wrapping one of her arms around Hank’s solid, tattooed ones felt just indulgent enough to make the neediest parts of her warm with anticipation.
The moment the words left her mouth, Hank’s dark eyes shone with heat. Those eyes were enough to make Juliet’s womb clench once, hard. If felt good to want a man...more than good, considering she knew full well what Hank could do to her once he put his mind to it. “Didn’t we promise we’d do a little stress relieving after the session?” She wheedled, hoping her voice sounded half as sensual as she was trying for.
She was a bit out of practice, after all.
To her consternation, Hank’s expression sobered somewhat. Though he didn’t remove her hand from his arm, he didn’t pull her into his embrace to kiss her senseless either. “Yeah...but I’ve been talking to Simmons and they’re going to send me in again soon. Being with you...it distracts me.”
Juliet decided to take his words as a complement, rather than an insult. But that didn’t mean she meant to stop pressing her suit. If Hank was going to leave her again - have her worrying that her crazy ex was out for his blood too, she wasn’t going to let him leave before imparting upon her two things she desperately needed.
“Fine.” She sighed, letting him go with extreme reluctance before deciding to switch tactics. “Then will you at least teach me how to shoot?”
Hank started like she’d slapped him. “What?”
Juliet stood firm, refusing to be cowed. “Teach me to shoot. That helps both of us, right? I’m not so helpless, you worry less. I want to learn.”
Hank immediately scowled. “I’m not teaching you to use a firearm. Simmons would castrate me if he even knew I let you touch them.”
Juliet’s frown matched his. “Because he thinks I’m going to off myself. I’m pretty sure we both know that’s not the end game here.”
It was the first time she’d ever voiced such thoughts aloud, and Hank’s expression immediately darkened. “I never said that. Who ever said that?”
Juliet’s stomach twisted in discomfort as she turned away from him. “You didn’t have too. I assumed you guys would assume I’m a suicide risk. That’s your prerogative, isn’t it?” She sighed, her eyes slipping closed as she did her best to escape the memories that suddenly threatened to consume her.
How many times had she considered taking her life in the last five years? When things had gotten bad - really bad - and no amount of makeup could cover the scars Solomon left on her body and soul, she just wanted it all to end. There had been several weeks of contemplating how she would do it - what she could steal from the kitchen that would cause the least pain. A drug overdose had seemed the most prudent, as those were always in huge supply, but the idea of shooting up had always seemed abhorrent to Juliet and that didn’t change, even when she was desperate to escape.
And so she had never taken extreme measures - a fact for which she was now grateful. Now, with some departure from Solomon’s abuse, Juliet realized just how important her life was - and how much she still had to live. “Juliet, if it wasn’t in my fucking job description, I wouldn’t be worried about you offing yourself.” Hank growled, finally, pulling her flush against him as he forced her chin up gently. When she met his intense gaze, Juliet felt ashamed that she had ever contemplated killing herself. Hank would never do something so selfish - he would rather make things happen than remain idle, and that was one of the things she most admired in him. “I know you’re strong, and I was an asshole for saying anything that might imply otherwise, ok?”
At that, Juliet laughed softly. Who the hell was this? Hank had apologized to her twice in the space of five minutes. He was going to scare her off at this rate. Her amusement, however, wasn’t enough to make her want to change her mind. She wanted to protect herself. Hank didn’t actually have to give her a gun to carry around. She just wanted to know how to use one properly.
“Hank...please.” She murmured softly, searching his stern features. “I really want to learn. If you really don’t think I’m a danger to myself, you’ll teach me.”
“No.” His tone remained firm, if slightly gentler. “You don’t need that stuff. There are other ways-”
“Please, Hank.” To her embarrassed surprise, Juliet realized she was almost in tears. “Help me with this. I’ll never ask for anything else.”
“Christ, Julie, don’t. Don’t do that.” Hank pulled her even closer, smoothing her hair back in a surprisingly tender gesture. Juliet’s fingers curled into his t-shirt as she inhaled the spicy scent of tobacco and cologne. She didn’t want to cry - not over something as idiotic as this. But she needed it. She needed a way to defend herself that was physical - corporeal. She’d had enough of the mental conflict to last herself a lifetime.
When she lifted her mouth to Hank’s, he didn’t refuse her. The kiss seared through her, and for a moment, nothing mattered but the hot press of Hank’s tongue against her own. They were out on the balcony. Rationally, Crowley or Bosh could come to check on them at any time and, if they did, they’d get an eyeful. But Juliet didn’t care. Even though she’d told herself she wouldn’t be vulnerable anymore, if she had to be, Hank was the only one she’d allow to see it.
Her arms slid around his neck almost desperately as she arched against him. It might have been enough to topple a lesser man off the balcony and into the leaves six feet below but Hank merely lifted her from her feet to carry her back into the safety of the cabin. It was the middle of the day - there was literally no secrecy at all to their intentions.
And Juliet could care less.
This time, it wasn’t Juliet’s room they retired to, but Hank’s. The young woman barely had a minute to take in how bare it was - probably just as bare as when they had arrived. If it weren’t for the clothes strewn around the room, she might not have even know he was staying there. She could only wonder what the man’s apartment looked like.
Or the last time Hank had gotten close to someone.
Then, Hank was working the jeans she wore over her hips and down her legs, his mouth in hot pursuit, and she forgot all of that. Her fingers threaded through the stiff, short bristles of his hair as her breath left her on a hot exhalation.
His mouth pressed against her stomach, hungry - eager - and Juliet arched indulgently into his touch. This time, she didn’t worry about what she looked like or old aches and pains. She wanted to feel.
Hank’s stubble rasped over her hip, then the sensitive skin of her bare thigh as he groaned, gathering her flush against him. Juliet couldn’t have escaped his vice-like grip if she tried, and she reveled in its almost bruising intensity as he trailed wet, ravenous kisses over her belly and the curves of her behind.
She shuddered as he parted her legs, tamping down the part of her that insisted that no man could want to do this. Solomon certainly hadn’t wanted to - but Hank seemed to have no such reservations. His mouth sought her out eagerly, and he didn’t even bother removing her panties, merely pulling the cotton fabric aside before his tongue covered her in a long, luxurious lap. Juliet bit her lip against the moan that welled in her throat, but Hank didn’t bother trying to censor himself.
He groaned, loud and long, as if the taste of her was something he’d craved for months, and the sound alone was almost enough to wring Juliet’s orgasm from her. Her head fell back against the coverlet beneath her head as Hank licked and sucked at the drenched folds between her legs. Before him, she might have thought it was impossible to be so aroused she was dizzy - that she forgot which way was up and even her own name.
But Hank made all of that possible.
He was an absolutely ravenous lover - and not in a way that made her afraid. When Juliet’s fingers curled into the nape of his neck in a vain attempt to draw him up against her, Hank merely shoved his tongue into her clenching passage and she cried out, writhing beneath him. It was too much - far too much…
Within seconds, she was trembling, the muscles of her thighs locking as she came. Juliet might have screamed but the intensity of her orgasm stole her breath - that, and Hank gave her no mercy afterwards. As she came down, he kissed the most sensitive parts of her gently - agonizingly - until she was begging him to stop.
But he didn’t. Hank merely held her in place, continuing to worship her with his mouth until she came apart again, this time gasping his name in a desperate plea for mercy. When he finally came up to press his mouth to hers, letting her taste herself on his lips, Juliet’s panties were drenched and her sanity hung on by a thread.
“One day,” Hank growled against her jaw, “I’ll convince you to let me fucking live between your legs.”
Juliet couldn’t imagine. He might very well kill her. She cupped his face, kissing him deeply, tugging on his bottom lip with her teeth until he groaned, his hips pressing down against hers. Though he was still fully clothed, there might as well have been nothing between them. The hard jut of his erection rubbed tantalizingly against the wetness between her legs and Juliet moaned unabashedly.
She tugged at his shirt until the fabric bunched underneath his arms. Hank lifted himself from her for the split second that he needed to remove the damned thing and then he was on top of her again - all that glorious muscle, sinew and strength.
But there was warmth there too. Hank cared how she felt. He cared how he made her feel - and God knew he made her feel good. He kissed down the length of her neck to linger at her pulse point until she squirmed beneath him. He sucked and bit at her shoulder, his hips moving against hers in a leisurely, intoxicating rhythm that made her all but want to rip his jeans off.
Had it really only been a few weeks since the last time she’d had him?
Juliet ran her hands over his tattooed shoulders and down his back. Beneath the ink she could feel the pitting of puckered bullet wounds and the long, shiny flesh of scar tissue. Hank was just as damaged as she was - and somehow, selfishly, the discovery made her feel less alone. Hank’s hands curled into her behind, hauling her higher up the bed, and a breathless laugh tumbled from her lips.
“What’s so funny?” He demanded, working her shirt and bra up over her head to free her breasts to his rabid gaze.
“Nothing.” She managed, a soft cry escaping her as he tugged at her nipple with his teeth. “Just…for someone who thinks he’s shit at communicating, you’re pretty damned good at this.”
Hank merely grunted in approval against the soft underside of her breast before plumping the tip towards his mouth again. Juliet’s leg wound around his waist as she whispered his name. How was it possible that sex could have you both elated and close to tears?
Had staying with Solomon really made her so blind about the world? Or was this what it was always like when you really wanted someone?
“Stop.” Hank’s gruff demand in her ear forced her back to the present just as much as his beard rasping sexily against the bare skin of her shoulder.
“Stop what?” She gazed up at him with wide eyes, her breath short. Hank’s gray eyes dared her to look away - to think of anything but him and the pleasure he brought her.
“Thinking. I told you I’d make you forget. Don’t make me resort to extreme measures.”
“Extreme measures?” The thought both intimidated and excited her. She didn’t think there was anything more extreme than how crazy the man could drive her. She was pretty sure if he put his mouth on her again she might just cease to exist altogether.
The man above her smirked wickedly, and Juliet found her fingers curling into the coverlet beneath her in anticipation. In a flash she found herself flipped onto her stomach, both her hands pinned to the pillow above her by one of his bigger ones. When Juliet wriggled beneath him, Hank cursed against her neck, kissing a sharp red mark into it a moment before she heard him undo the fastening of his jeans.
The next thing she knew, Hank was pulling the hem of her underwear down to her thighs - just low enough so he could work his huge, hot erection into the core of her. Burying her face in a pillow, Juliet moaned as he split her open, inch by glorious inch. “Fuck…” He hissed against her neck. “You’re so ready for me Julie...so fucking ready…”
How couldn’t she be? She’d wanted this for weeks! Craved it so badly she woke up hot, wet and aching, wondering how wanton she would seem if she rushed next door and into his bed.
When he drew out, almost leaving her entirely, she moaned with the need to have him back in her, arching her hips off the bed in an effort to take him back inside her. Hank obliged her quickly, pinning her to the coverlet with a swift thrust that took her breath away.
The pace he set was brutal - it might almost have been punishing. He was pinning her down, his body moving powerfully over hers. But his grip wasn’t harsh. The things he whispered in her ear - how perfect she felt and how good she was to take all of him - that, along with his cock itself, melted her from the inside out.
She was soon gasping his name, moaning uncontrollably as tears of divine pleasure slipped down her cheek.
And she did not think of the man who had almost ruined her. Not once.
In time, Hank released her wrists. His calloused fingers curled into her hip as his opposite hand reached down, between her legs, to find the minute, swollen little bud of her pleasure. The moment he touched her there, Juliet was bowing against him, her mouth slack as her third orgasm crashed over her with the force of a tidal wave.
She came so hard it hurt, her muscles clenching until she was gasping for relief from the pain. Hank seemed to know what she needed without a word and reached down to massage her thighs with broad, firm strokes until the muscles loosened.
Even when Juliet eased back down, she could still feel him inside her, breathing roughly against her neck as he struggled to keep from letting her spasming inner muscles finish him as well. Once Juliet’s body finally sagged to the coverlet, Hank slid from her to turn her onto her back.
When he entered her again, she moaned, her eyes slipping closed as she clutched at his shoulders weakly. The man was a demon, and she didn’t know how much longer she could last under an onslaught like this. Hank, however, didn’t take up the pounding rhythm that had swept her away before. Instead, he lowered his mouth to press it to hers, rocking his hips into her in long, steady strokes that pooled warmth low in her belly.
He kept going until his rhythm stuttered, his muscles pulled tight and Juliet gasped as she felt him spilling inside her in long, hot spurts that seemed to go on for an eternity. Hank let his head drop slowly, pressing his forehead to hers as he kissed her again. The gesture was unexpectedly tender, considering what he’d just done to her, and Juliet relished it. When all this was over, who knew if a man would ever be so giving again?
She swallowed the pang of pain that came with the prospect, clearing her dry throat. “Does this mean...you’ll teach me to shoot?”
Hank merely groaned, his eyes sliding open just enough to allow him to glower down at her.
“You never give up, do you?”
Juliet grinned, running her hands over the wide expanse of Hank’s chest indulgently. “It’s a bad habit.”