Nena smiled as Juliette approached her window, the kind of smile that was reflexive and a little dead.
“Hello Juliette.”
Juliette offered her own smile, but it felt strained. “Hello. I would like to make a deposit, please.”
Nena fixed her with cool gray eyes. “Do you have your bank card?”
Juliette shifted. She dug out her card and passed it along.
“I know I’m overdrawn, but I’m going to cover that.”
To prove it, she pulled out the envelope of cash Arlo had sent back and set it on the counter between them, deliberately keeping Arlo’s message pressed into the glass. It wouldn’t have meant anything to Nena, but Juliette didn’t want to see it. She didn’t want to remember anything from the night before that involved Arlo. She didn’t even care that she’d been sold to pay off Arlo’s debt to Killian. In her mind, to be away from Arlo, to never have to see or hear him again … it was worth it. She was officially free. She could finally cut back on working. She could refurnish the house. She could maybe get a car and new clothes. The possibilities were endless and she wanted to cry she was so happy.
“I see the overdrawn.” Nena cut into her thoughts. “But it was covered by the deposit made this morning.”
Juliette blinked. “What deposit?”
French manicured nails clicked on keys as Nena pulled up the information. She had on her blank bank teller face, making it impossible to tell what she was thinking. Plus she took so long, Juliette was ready to grab the screen and look for herself.
“It looks like it came from a company…” She rapped some more on the keyboard. Thinly penciled eyebrows tangled together. “It looks like it was deposited by the McClary Corporation.”
“Who?” Juliette demanded, leaning forward in attempt to see into the screen. “How much?”
Rather than answer, Nena printed off a copy of the balance and slid it gingerly across the divide.
Juliette snatched it up and peered at the long parade of numbers that she initially mistook for a computer malfunction, but realized it wasn’t an accident.
“Jesus Christ! What is this?” she exclaimed loud enough to draw attention from the other customers and employees.
Nena’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. She shrugged and shook her head.
“Is there a note?” Juliette snapped, anger slicing with white hot speed through her shock.
Nena shook her head a second time.
Grabbing her card, the envelope of cash and the scrap of paper containing more dollars than Juliette had ever seen in her life, she stormed from the bank. All the way downtown, she boiled in a rage that refused to be hampered. If she had hoped the hour long bus ride into the city followed by the twenty minute cab ride to the front gates of Killian’s enormous estate would at least bank some of the fire snapping through her with a vengeance, she had been sorely mistaken. It only seemed to bunch around her throat in vice that strangled the air from her lungs.
“Don’t leave,” she told the cabbie when he rolled up the cobblestone driveway and braked. “I won’t be long.”
Kicking open her door, Juliette rolled out and charged for the grand doors. Two men stood outside, cigarettes in hand. Both stepped forward when she approached.
“I need to see Killian. Now!” she snarled at them.
“Not without an appointment you ain’t,” one retorted evenly.
“I am not leaving until I see him,” Juliette said, planting her feet and crossing her arms.
Each taking a long drag of their smokes, they eyed her through the tendrils that coiled from their nostrils and the corners of their mouths. Both seemed to be the same height but one clearly spent much more time in the gym. Each of his biceps were the size of watermelons and he had the chest of some rogue pirate off a romance novel. The other was more slender and lean. But neither was one of the men from the previous night, at least that she recognized.
“Look, I was here last night. Killian knows me.”
Leers that she did not appreciate twisted their mouths. They slanted each other knowing glances that prickled Juliette’s temper several degrees hotter.
“Let it go, sweetheart,” Steroid said, chuckling. “This makes you look desperate.”
Juliette bristled. “What is that supposed to mean?” she snapped.
“It means you’ve had your night so move along. The boss doesn’t fuck the same whore twice.”
Humiliation burned behind her eyes, drawing tears that made her hands tremble with the effort not to let them spill. Blood roared in her ears, muting everything else.
“I’m not leaving until I talk to him,” she ground out.
The two snorted and shook their heads. One flicked his cigarette at her feet, missing the top her big toe by mere inches. The top blazed a molten red that billowed smoke.
Steriods nudged him hard in the side. “You crazy? Boss’ll kill you if he sees that. Pick it up.”
Flushing, the smaller one stalked over and picked up the smoking butt. That close, Juliette had to stave off the urge to knee him in the face. Instead, she watched as he straightened and ambled around the side of the house, leaving Juliette alone with Steroids, who got a call through the mic clipped to his belt.
“Yeah?”
“Problem?” The voice asked.
Steroids stole a peek at Juliette. “Nope.”
He turned away to mumble into the device. While she couldn’t hear him, Juliette knew exactly what he was telling them and the red hot anger returned. She considered smashing his head in with one of the potted plants lining the pathway, but opted it wasn’t worth going to jail over. Instead, she made a split second decision to run. She ran like her life depended on it. She didn’t stop until she had slammed into the front doors. The knob was ice cold in her grasp as she wrenched it sharply to the right. Behind her, Steroids shouted for her to stop. But Juliette threw herself into the foyer and slammed the door shut behind her. For good measure, she snapped the lock into place. Then she whirled on her heels and ran forward, past the curved stairway towards the back of the house only to skid to a halt at the sound if raised voices coming at her from the kitchen.
Cursing, she whipped around and bolted up the stairs, taking two at a time to the top. Below, the voices rose, as did the sound of running footsteps. Panting, she tore down the corridor, trying to remember if that was the way from the night before. She didn’t expect Killian to still be in the bedroom but it was a place to start.
“Hey!”
With a startled scream, Juliette tore past the second set of stairs and sprinted down the hall in the opposite direction of the small army chasing after her. The thunder of footsteps echoed like bombs going off. It mirrored the pounding of her heart. The bottoms of her feet stung with every slap of her sandal. She ignored it as she ran blindly down the endless hallway. In the end, out of sheer desperation, she ducked into the first open door and slammed the doors shut behind her. The lock cracked into place, sounding oddly muffled to her ringing ears.
Panting, she staggered away from the barricade just as the whole thing shuddered with the weight that slammed into it from the other side. A sound escaped her that was something between a moan and a whimper; the door wouldn’t hold. Odds were they had a key. She was trapped.
“Shit!” she panted, lifting a shaky and swiping away the stands of plastered hair off her sweaty brow.
“Juliette?” The break in the silence ripped a frantic scream from her before she even spun around. Killian sat behind an enormous desk, surrounded by papers and wearing an expression that insisted he had not been expecting her.
“Killian…”
The door gave another violent shudder that made her flinch and back away from it.
Killian looked from her to the door before reaching for the phone on his desk. He hit a button and put the receiver to his ear.
“Stand down,” he told the person on the other end, never once taking his eyes off Juliette. “No. I’ll handle it.” He set the phone down and rose. “What are you doing breaking into my house?”