Interstate Love Song Chapter 1 - Use Once and Destroy

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Media: Desert Saints

Pairing: Arthur Banks/Juliette Chrysler (oc)

Word Count: ~14k

CW: Graphic description of violence, murder, mentioned/implied sexual assault, graphic description of blood, guns/gun violence, knives, smoking, alcohol, medical talk, dom/sub dynamics, NSFW including: dom/sub, PiV, restraint, biting, exhibitionism/public sex acts, choking, degradation, praise, spanking, description of genitalia, description of body image

…

Tachycardia is a hell of a thing. At its worst, it could kill you. At its best, it's annoying. Juliette isn't sure where her rapid pulse falls on the scale as she stands behind the corner of a filthy, run-down gas station somewhere in Imperial County, back pressed hard against the wall, gun gripped so tight in her hands it would break had it been made of flimsy material. These hands are eerily steady, as Juliette is normally a trembling mess and the high heartbeat worsens it, but not this time.

She peeks around the corner just a bit to confirm once more that these are the guys she's looking for. Oh too familiar are the sounds of their voices and the stench of one's signature cologne, and matching a face to these markers makes Juliette's eyes instinctively dampen. Blinking rapidly to rid them of the blurring tears, Juliette takes one last deep inhale before turning the corner in a swift motion and brandishing her handgun, aiming strictly at one of the men's chest.

"Juliette?" He asks incredulously, looking as if he's seen a ghost, "Juliette Chrysler? Just what the hell are you doing?"

Cocking her head slightly and gritting her teeth, she takes a couple of steps forward, the crunch of gravel beneath her shoes breaking the tense silence after he speaks. The other man reaches into his waistband quickly, pulling out a handgun of his own and training it on Juliette, but his hands are shaky. His eyes show fear, something Juliette has only dreamt about seeing until this moment.

"Put it down," she snaps, switching her aim to him and cocking her gun. "Bend down, drop it on the ground, and kick it over to me. If either of you try anything with me, I will make this so much worse for you."

He complies and bends down slowly, placing his weapon on the gravel-covered earth and kicking it over to her, as he was asked. Juliette nods and smirks with satisfaction, then returns her aim to the other man.

"Are you armed?" She asks, the urge to pull the trigger already just eating away at her.

"N-no," he says nervously, holding his hands out. "Not even a knife. I swear, Jules…"

With that, her eyes widen and she exhales sharply, taking a couple of steps before reaching him and smacking him across the face with the barrel of her gun, the collision sending blood and one tooth flying from his mouth.

"Do not ever fucking call me that," she warns. "Don't ever refer to me. You have no fucking right to even look at me, but you're gonna have to, of course. You're going to watch me watch you suffer."

The man is holding his face, the place Juliette hit, and blood continues to drip out of his mouth. This makes her smile, and she steps back to her position from before, a few feet away.

She sighs before speaking. "I remember you being so tough." Her eyes and aim flick to the other man, who is still shaking in terror. "You, not so much. You had seniority over me, making you a pedophile of course, but I was never scared of you. You've always been such a little pussy."

With this, she fires off two rounds, one in each of his kneecaps. He falls to the ground, screaming and crying, holding the places above his wounds despite knowing they'll never recover. Juliette walks up to him, but her gun is aimed once again at the second man.

As she grabs the one on the ground by the hair, pulling it so hard his scalp burns, he pleads, "Juliette, please stop! What did we even do to you?!"

She scoffs incredulously, and drops his head against the gravel. "You've gotta be fucking joking. Is your memory just piss poor, or are you that fucking stupid that you really think I wouldn't be pissed off about the two of you sexually assaulting me, even all these years later?"

Standing back up, she kicks him in the face. "You," she gestures to the second man with her gun, "do you remember what you did?"

He nods slowly. "I do. But Juliette, that was so long ago, why do you-"

"It may have been years ago but it's made my life a living hell!" She screams, tears threatening to leave her lash line. "Do you know how much PTSD impacts a person's health, physically and mentally? A whole fucking lot. And when I'm not having panic attacks or flashbacks or staring blankly at the wall like some fucked up war veteran with shell shock, I'm thinking about killing you."

Swallowing hard, he speaks quietly, "you really think about us that much?"

Juliette nods slowly. "All the fucking time. And none of it, I mean none of it, is good. It's all just fantasizing about this."

And then she surprises him by taking out his kneecaps, too, sending him falling to the level of her own knees and uttering a string of curses she can't understand. Juliette kicks him down and steps on both his hands, earning even more profanity.

"Don't even think about looking up my skirt," Juliette warns, kneeling over him somewhat suggestively but with no intent to please. She puts the safety on her pistol and sticks it in the waistband of her pleated skirt, exchanging it for a knife hooked into her fishnets.

It's a switchblade, black all over sans a pink mother of pearl plating on the handle. She flicks it open and admires the blade, before poking at the underside of his upper arm.

"Wh-what are you doing?" he asks nervously. "Juliette…"

She smiles and places her other hand on his chin, tilting his face up to look at her. "Your death is going to be slow and agonizing and so, so messy."

The knife in her other hand sinks into his flesh, first past the lesser blood vessels that let out small droplets. He's already screaming again, so Juliette uses her free hand to backhand him. As the knife further pushes into his arm, Juliette twists it a bit and pulls it out at an angle, releasing spurts of bright red blood.

"What the fuck are you doing!?" He screams. "Just shoot me, you bitch!"

Juliette smiles at the blood covered blade and wipes it clean on his shirt. "See, that spot I just cut, that's your brachial artery. I know you've always been a little dumb, do I need to explain what an artery is, and why cutting it is bad?"

"Y-you're going to bleed us out?!" The other man asks, trying to squirm away from Juliette on the ground. "Please, Jesus Christ, just shoot us!"

She shakes her head. "Oh, no. Like I said, slow and agonizing." Juliette climbs off the first man and kneels next to the other, digging her blade into his arm to sever his brachial artery, too. He screams much louder than the other, tears dripping down his face in tandem with the arterial blood spurting from his new wound.

"Aaaand how about next, we do the carotid?" Juliette says in a sing-song voice, tracing her knife over the first man's neck. "See, when I blasted your kneecaps, that probably already took care of the popliteal arteries. I was thinking of trying for all of them, but…I don't think you'll live long enough for that. So why not just the fun ones?"

This artery is much easier to access, just below the tender skin of the neck. Juliette tips his chin up and makes an incision almost surgical in nature, but one intended to harm. The vessel splits easily under the blade and blasts candy red all over Juliette's front. Something so heinous and violent shouldn't make her laugh, but she giggles with sick glee.

"Okay, you next!" She says, still laughing.

Once again, he tries to squirm away, but Juliette catches his hair in her hand and yanks it to tilt his head, making his neck accessible. This cut is less precise than the previous one, but accomplishes the same task. With another splash of blood, Juliette smiles sadistically and climbs back to the first man.

He and his friend are already looking grim, pale and sickly and so hypoxic their lips are turning cyanotic. Juliette puts on an exaggerated pout and places her hands on her hips.

"You're dying a lot faster than I anticipated," she says, slightly disappointed. "Guess we'll cut to the chase, then. Now for the star of the show- the one, the only, aorta!!"

She wastes no time on this one, plunging her knife into his chest, knowing all too well where that vital vessel rests. Juliette's smile is wide when the blood spurts from here, and the man begins coughing and trying to place a weak hand over his chest.

"Oh, don't bother," Juliette says over her shoulder as she goes to the other man, "pressure won't help."

The second man has no fight left in him, and just lay there as Juliette punctures his aorta too, and it seems this kills him instantly, as there's no protest, no screams, no movement. Her smile widens, and she stands up.

"Well, he's gone," Juliette says, nudging the man's body with her toe. "A shame he went so easily, but he was always a little bitch. You, you've still got some life. But not much. I'm gonna leave now, and both of you are going to rot in this parking lot, discovered by either lowlife drug dealers like yourselves, or some poor fuckers stopping to take a piss. Either way, no one's gonna care. You won't get a proper burial, you don't deserve one. You're going to be food for the scavengers of the desert. That's all you were ever meant to be- fucking roadkill."

She turns on her heel and heads for the bathroom to clean up, as after so many arterial punctures, her entire front is sopping wet with blood. Just as she places her hand on the doorknob, however, she feels something wrap around her ankle and pull her to the ground.

"How are you still kicking?!" She screams, noticing that it was the first man who did that, and had climbed on top of her, leaking his last pints of blood on her.

"I'm not going out without one…last…touch," he grunts between labored breaths, one hand pinning hers above her head and the other going up her skirt.

"Fuck you!" She says, spitting a mix of saliva and his blood in his face. She wants to fight back, but the memories flood in, and her body is frozen.

He really is going to hurt her one last time.

Or not, as out of nowhere, she hears a gunshot and suddenly his head has a hole through it and blood, brain matter, and shards of skull coat her face. His body falls on top of hers, lifeless. Juliette screams and pushes his corpse off her, scrambling to get up, only to be met by the barrel of a gun.

"Wh-who are you?" She asks, looking past the gun and up to the person wielding it, feeling both gratitude and fear…and attraction.

Though the lighting next to the bathrooms is dim, Juliette can still see how gorgeous this man is. His face is handsome, too handsome, with a pretty little nose and lips with the most gorgeous cupid's bow. His eyes look angry, blue-green and cutting her like a knife. Blonde, short, somewhat messy hair blows in the breeze, a nice contrast to his slightly tanned skin, likely colored from the desert sun. She looks down, noticing his attire is a burnt orange button up with the sleeves rolled to reveal hairy arms, blue jeans, and a pair of black cowboy boots, eerily shiny and clean considering the environment.

"What were you doing out here, killing these guys?" He asks in a gruff voice that sends shivers through her whole body.

"They…they…I couldn't take it anymore, I had to kill them…"

He tilts his head and smirks. "Looks like you didn't do a very good job on this one." The tip of his boot nudges the corpse that had been on top of Juliette seconds ago.

Juliette looked offended. "I severed like four of his fucking arteries, I have no clue how he was still alive!"

The mystery man scoffs and tucks the handgun in his waistband. "Well, looks like I finished him for you." He notices the shaken look on Juliette's face, how she's tucked her knees against herself.

"He was going to hurt you, wasn't he?" Mystery man asks, slightly gentler than he'd been talking before. His eyes soften on her.

Juliette nods and sniffles as tears begin to drip down her cheeks, cutting through the grime on her face. "Yes."

Bending down to Juliette's level, the mystery man reaches out to her. "Come here. You're safe now, alright?"

Her own hand is shaky, but she places it in his and allows his impressive strength to pull her to her feet. When she stands, she nearly falls against his chest, the same height as her head.

"Thank you," Juliette says quietly, wrapping shaky arms around his torso. He tenses under her touch and places a hand on her shoulder.

"Yeah, you're welcome," he says dismissively. "Get off me. I'm gonna get you out of here, okay? Come with me back to the car."

Juliette lets go of him and trails behind him to his car, an old, dinged up Chevrolet Nova. He holds the passenger door open for her and allows her to sit down before pulling a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket and clipping them around her wrists.

It shocks her, even slightly arouses her. "What's this for?"

"Shut up," he growls, slamming the door shut and going to the trunk. Juliette watches as he fetches a pair of large, brown bags that zip up and tosses them over his shoulder.

He drops one bag at the man who died first, examining his wounds before sliding the corpse into the bag and zipping it up. He does the same to the other man, then drags them one by one to the trunk. Once both are inside, he slams it shut, and heads back to the front seat.

"Why are you cleaning up for me?" Juliette asks as the man gets into the car and shuts the door behind him.

As he starts the car, he says, "I'm not doing it for you. Those two were targets of mine, and you did the dirty work for me. Well, most of it. I'm taking them to where they belong."

Juliette bites her lip and inhales. "Targets? What are you, a hit man?"

He shrugs as he drives. "Something like that. But you, what the hell are you? How'd you happen to track both of them down to kill them?"

"I'm…was…a nurse," Juliette says. "Having access to medical records is a hell of a gift. Found their addresses, vehicles, which led me to their jobs and plans for said jobs. Should've known those two would end up in the world of drugs. Found out they intended to do a deal here, as do many other dealers, and managed to get here before their clients. Kneecapped them, sliced up their arteries. Knowing where those are because I'm a nurse, y'know."

He nods without a word, but something about his expression shows he's impressed. "Interesting. And you were doing this for revenge, not money? No one hired you to do this? A method like that sounds like one a professional would use as a signature. You aren't a professional?"

Juliette shook her head. "No, it was entirely revenge. I've never killed anyone before, but I've thought about it nonstop since the day I realized I wasn't powerless to them."

"Hmm." He pulls a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the middle of the seats and uses his knees to steer while lighting one up. "What'd they do to you?"

"I was in a, um…" She pauses to do dramatic air quotes and roll her eyes, "abusive 'relationship' with each of them, one year apart. Both of them sexually abused me. I don't want to go into details on what they did, but it fucked me up for life. So every day since, I've fantasized about killing them. Plotted how I'd do it. And this is what I chose."

"You've got issues," he said with a small laugh.

Juliette raised her eyebrow and scoffed. "I have issues? You kill people for money. I had a vendetta. My methods were strange, I'll admit that, but my reasoning made sense. Your reasoning is just greed. And you handcuffed me for no reason!"

He whipped his head around and pulled his cigarette from between his lips and pointed it at her, dangerously close to pressing it into her skin.

"Listen, girl, everyone's gotta make a living. Just because you weren't smart enough to spring for a deal that got you money and revenge doesn't mean I'm the one with issues. And I handcuffed you so you wouldn't try anything, but judging by the look on your face and that little moan you let out when I did it, you're into that, aren't you?"

This silences her, leaving her with wide eyes and raised brows. He waits for her to respond, but she doesn't, so he puts his cigarette back in his mouth and continues driving. Juliette just watches him, admiring how gorgeous he is, yet screaming at him mentally for being such an asshole.

"What's your name, anyway?" He finally asks, but he doesn't look at her.

"Juliette Chrysler. You?"

He sets his jaw. "Just call me Joe."

She snorts and rolls her eyes, which doesn't please him. He glares at her, biting down on his cigarette.

"What's so fucking funny?" He asks, flicking his eyes from her to the road.

Juliette inhales a laugh and says, "You are far too attractive to be named Joe. I know you're a hitman or whatever and you don't want to share your real name, but I know for a fact it is not Joe. A guy like you is not gonna be named Joe."

"Joe" scoffs and smirks. "Now I get why you nearly came when I handcuffed you. You think I'm hot and you're into that. You're admittedly pretty gorgeous yourself, but I was gonna hold off on implying anything like that considering your past with men."

Juliette feels her face burn with blush at every word he says. "Y-you think I'm pretty?"

"Even covered in some scumbag's blood, you're a doll. Face of a fuckin' angel. And that rack, goddamn…shit, if that brings back bad memories, I'll dial it back."

Her entire body is warm now. "N-no," Juliette says, "that's…that's really sweet of you to say."

He clicks his tongue. "Well, it's true." He's quiet for a moment, then says, "you're right that my name isn't Joe. You can call me Banks."

She nods, beginning her nervous habit of twirling a strand of her long, dark curls around her finger. "Okay, Banks. Where are we going?"

"First, to get rid of those two. I know a spot."

"I thought you had to deliver them to someone?" Juliette asks.

Banks pulls his cigarette from his lips and taps the ashes into an empty cup. "A picture is good enough for the guy I work for. I'll snap some of these two, then bury them out in the desert. Since you were the one who actually did the deed, you're gonna help me do that."

Juliette scoffs in protest. "Are you kidding? After all I just went through, you want me to dig a fucking grave, and handcuffed at that?"

"You're gonna help, because I'm gonna give you a reward," Banks replies. "Trust me, it'll be worth it."

Her mind begins to wander to what this reward may be. While she assumes it will be a cut of his payment for taking those two out, she hopes deep down that it'll be getting fucked stupid by him, as she now knows the attraction is mutual.

Their drive is silent for the next few minutes, and the sun has begun to rise above the horizon. The sky is painted pink and orange above a sandy landscape, and Juliette wishes in her head that she could take a picture.

Banks suddenly veers the car off the highway onto a smaller dirt road that seems to lead into nothing. It ends abruptly, in the middle of the dunes. He turns off the car and gets out, gesturing for Juliette to join him.

"C'mon, let's get to it," Banks says, opening the trunk. Juliette peers inside and notices not only the two body bags, but some cases that definitely contained guns, and a pair of shovels. He hands one to her, despite her cuffed wrists, and takes one for himself.

Before doing anything else, Banks stakes his shovel into the sand and rips open the buttons of his shirt, sliding out of it and tossing it into the trunk. Juliette's eyes widen as she drinks in the view of his torso, just as tanned by the desert sun as the rest of his skin is, dark blond hair covering his toned chest. He also has two notable tattoos, bands of a different style on each bicep, one barbed wire and one more Celtic in design.

She's still watching in awe as Banks pulls on a pair of black leather gloves and dons aviator sunglasses. He notices Juliette staring and smirks, going to the trunk to retrieve one of the bodies.

"You like what you see, don't you?" He asks playfully, yanking the body bag out of the trunk and letting it thud on the ground. "You're a filthy little brat, aren't you?"

Juliette chews her lip and avoids his gaze. "Shut up. Why do you even need to take off your shirt, anyways?"

Banks knows he's getting under her skin. "To turn you on even more than you already are, obviously. "

Her face turns pink beneath the filth coating it in response, and she's back to twirling her hair. Banks smiles and begins to drag the body bag away from the car, out into the dunes. When he returns for the other and his shovel, he leans close to her, slipping the strap of a Polaroid camera over her neck.

"Just fucking with you. It's hard work burying bodies, and I don't want to get my shirt all dirty and sweaty." As he begins to drag the second body away, he calls, "remember, this one's yours."

Juliette follows him with a shovel in hand, and decides to poke back at him. "Well, if it gets you all dirty and sweaty, should I take mine off, too?"

Banks nearly drops the body and feels a lump in his throat. "As much as I'd like that, Juliette, it's already covered in blood, so I don't think you need to worry about a little more of a mess."

She clicks her tongue and stakes her shovel, leaning on it. "Suit yourself."

After dragging the body to its desired location, Banks leans down and undoes the zipper on each bag, revealing the corpses. Juliette eyes them in the morning light, much different than last night. She feels a bit of pride at the slices in their arteries and their busted kneecaps. Banks takes the camera from around Juliette's neck and snaps a photo of the first one, then shakes it until it develops and pockets it. He takes a photo of the second body, the one he'd finished off, shakes it, and puts it away with the first.

"Alright," he says, slipping the strap of the Polaroid back around her neck and grabbing his shovel, "get to it. You're lucky it's early, it won't be too hot."

"Then why'd you take your shirt off?" She muttered in a playful tone, beginning to dig a hole in the sand.

"What's that?" Banks asks, pausing to look at her. "Are you questioning me?"

Juliette shakes her head. "No sir, I would never." Her tone is playful, but Banks lets it slide.

As the two dig, it is mostly silent, other than the cars that could be heard in the distance, and some birds. Juliette begins to hum, trying to break that silence.

"The fuck are you doing?" Banks asks between heavy breaths as he digs.

Juliette shrugs and tosses some sand with her shovel. "Humming. Why? Do you want me to stop?"

Banks shakes his head. "Y- err, no. You don't have to. It's kinda nice. What song is that?"

"Dead and Bloated by Stone Temple Pilots," she answers, continuing to dig. "I thought it made sense, because we're burying bodies that are gonna be dead and bloated if we leave them in the sun too much longer."

He nods. "I thought it sounded familiar. You a singer?"

Juliette smiles. "Yeah, actually. My throat's too dry to sing right now, but I've been told I'm good."

Banks returns a smile. "We'll go get something to eat and drink at a diner after this, then maybe you'll sing for me?"

Wiping a hand across her forehead to get rid of some sweat, Juliette laughs. "Y-yeah, sure. You're going to take me out to eat?"

He scoffs. "No, I'm going to eat and you're coming with me."

"Is there a difference?" Juliette asks, rolling her eyes. She then looks down at the hole she's dug. "Banks, do you think the hole is deep enough?"

Banks peers over her shoulder. "Yeah, I think so. Go on, toss him in."

Juliette nods and stares down at the corpse of one of the men who made her life so painful. He's dead now, thanks to her, cuts she'd left so obvious against the pale, lifeless skin. Kneecaps obliterated, blood soaked into the fabric of his jeans. She smiles at the fact that he's gone forever, and takes joy in using her feet and the shovel to push his body into the hole.

"Good girl," Banks says, which sends a shock through her entire body. "Now fill in the hole. Or are you too tired? Do I need to fill your hole for you?"

Juliette audibly squeaks at this and draws her legs together. "I-I can do it…"

Banks smirks and wipes sweat from above his lip. "Alright. You fill your hole and I'll watch."

Now, not only does the desert sun make her body burn, but so does every lewd comment Banks makes. She nods and begins to pile the dirt she'd dug up back on top of the corpse. As she does this, Banks does indeed watch her, peeking up her skirt each time she bends over. He internally scolds himself after a minute and returns to his own grave.

After some more time and more of Juliette humming tracks from Stone Temple Pilots' album "Core," the two finally finish. Banks nods in approval at Juliette's grave, and runs his hand through his hair.

"Good, it's done," he says, "now let's go back to the car."

As they walk back, shovels in hand, Juliette peeks down at her shirt and remembers that her entire front, including her face, is covered in blood and brain matter. It doesn't help that she's sweating, too.

"Banks," she says as they continue to the car, "I can't go to a diner like this. I'm disgusting."

He looks her over and sighs. "Guess you're right. Why don't we get a hotel room early- we'll need one tonight- you can take a shower there and then go get food."

Juliette nods in agreement. "Okay. So wait, I'm staying with you tonight? And all day? What for?"

"Do you have anywhere else to be?" Banks asks in reply. "What was your plan after killing those two, huh?"

Her eyes cast down in embarrassment. "I don't know. I wasn't thinking about what I'd do next. Get as far away from here as possible, I guess?"

"Well, I guess that's what will happen. You're gonna come with me and help me find the rest of the assholes those two hang around."

Juliette nervously taps her nails against the wood of the shovel's handle. "Why me?"

"Because you know how they operate, how their crew operates." By the time he says this, they've reached the car again. He opens the trunk and tosses his shovel in, then takes hers and does the same before slamming it shut.

She knows where to go from here and heads to the passenger side and gets in. Banks takes a moment to take back the camera from her and toss it in the back, exchanging it for a fresh shirt, this one a navy blue button up that, once he's pulled it on and done it up a little more than halfway, hugs his form perfectly. Juliette finds her eyes focus on his chest, accentuated by the tight fabric. She also takes note of his forearms, revealed when he pushes up his sleeves.

"Banks, I knew about those two," she says. "I read up on their crew a bit, yeah, but only enough to find them. I don't know much about the rest of the guys. Are you sure I can provide enough information for you? Or will you just dump me in the desert like you did with them when I tell you what you want?"

He takes a cigarette and puts it between his lips, then nods to the lighter on the seat next to him. "Light it for me," he commands.

Although Juliette wants to yell at him that what he said doesn't answer her question, she obeys and flicks the lighter on, holding the flame to the dart in his mouth until it's lit. She flicks it off and drops it when he pulls away and begins to drive off.

"You didn't answer my question," Juliette pipes up. "After I tell you what you need to know, are you gonna kill me?"

Banks groans and bites down on his cigarette. "The way you're acting right now, I kind of want to. But no. I wouldn't have let you live past that abandoned gas station if I wanted you dead. Not only do you have desirable information, but you also have an interesting kill method. If you partner up with me, you can help me pick them off with your methods, and it'll throw any law enforcement off my trail. They know how I kill, but they don't know about you at all."

Juliette takes a shaky breath. "So you want me to be, what, your partner in crime? What makes you think I'm okay with that?"

"You killed once, you'll do it again," he states simply.

"But I had a reason for them!" She protests. "I don't know these other people, Banks! What's my motive? You're going to split your earnings with me?"

He lets out a bark of laughter. "No. Your motive is that as long as you keep killing with me, you'll have just that. Me. A man to protect you from men like them. A man to provide for you, keep you alive. A man to keep you satisfied."

Juliette knits her eyebrows. "Oh, you think you're good enough to be my only compensation for becoming a fucking hitman? What makes me so sure you'll protect me, or provide for me, keep me satisfied? Or, once again, not kill me? I have a feeling I'm not the first girl you've done this to, and that all the ones before got stabbed in the back by you. I'm something you use once and destroy, aren't I?"

Banks swerves his car to the side of the road, angrily. He parks it and yanks off his sunglasses before leaning over Juliette, pressing her against the window and door of the passenger side.

"Look, Juliette, you're right. I have had girls like you before. Girls I helped, so they helped me. But you have it completely backwards- they've all stabbed me in the back. Thought they could cut and run. Hell, the last one was a fucking federal agent who not only screwed me over, but the feds, too. I have no logical reason to believe that you'll be any different, that you won't betray me and I won't need to put one between your eyes, too. But do you want to know why I have the slightest ounce of trust towards you, why I don't feel the need to watch my back with you? Why you still have that gun in your waistband and that knife clipped to your stockings?"

Juliette's heart is pounding. The heat coming off Banks is suffocating, the smoke he exhales in her face aiding in the feeling. His arms beside her have trapped her against the door, and he sounds so, so angry. She should be crying, should be begging him to stop, but she doesn't. She's not ever been one for eye contact, but those big brown eyes meet Banks's icy blue ones.

"Why?" She asks softly.

Banks moves swiftly to loop a finger around the chains of the handcuffs she still wore. "Because you welcomed the handcuffs. You're still wearing them. When we met, you didn't fight me. I saw it in your eyes the second you looked at me, after I blasted the brains out of that abusive piece of shit on top of you. That was loyalty. Trust. That was you indebting yourself to me, and not because you were scared. Not even strictly because I saved you. But because I'm the only future you've got, and I'm the only person you want to be with. And because of those things, you'd never betray me. That sound right?"

Juliette nods rapidly, swallowing hard. "Yes. Banks, I want to stay by your side. I'll do anything you want, anything, just please don't kill me. I don't want to put all my trust in you, only to be shot for my loyalty."

"I promise you, if you don't betray me, I won't betray you. Mutual trust. I won't kill you unless you turn on me." His face is close to hers, so much so that if he didn't have that cigarette in his mouth he could kiss her.

"I won't do that," Juliette says softly, but with conviction.

Banks smiles, and although it may have meant to be warm and loving, it came off as unhinged. "Say it then. Say you'll never betray me."

"I'll never betray you."

Pulling back a bit, Banks takes his cigarette from his lips and taps the ashes into that empty cup next to the driver's seat. His free hand cups Juliette's jaw and his thumb runs over her soft lips, causing her breath to catch in her chest.

"I'd kiss you, but you're right, you're filthy," Banks says with a hint of disgust in his voice, letting go of her face and returning to the wheel. "We'll get to that motel and you can clean up."

Juliette is beaming, blush invisible under the layers of blood on her face. "And after I clean up, will you kiss me?"

"If I still feel like it," Banks says flatly, taking the cigarette back to his lips and turning back onto the road to continue their journey.

…

Juliette falls asleep not long after, as she's had a rough night and Banks isn't much for conversation. He doesn't even play music on the radio. How he can sit in silence, Juliette doesn't understand, so she curls up against the window, warm with morning sun, and falls into a dreamless sleep.

When she wakes up, Arthur has stopped at an intersection. She squirms back to a seated position and narrows her eyes to get a better look at the road signs, and her eyes widen with excitement when she sees the name of the town 30 miles away.

"Banks, Banks!" She chirps excitedly, using her still bound hands to shake his upper arm, rattling the chain of the cuffs.

"What, what?!" He asks aggressively, moving his shoulder so she can't continue to harass him.

"That road sign, the city 30 miles away, El Centro! I live there! We can just stop by my house to wash up, and you can even stay the night! We won't need a motel!"

Banks tenses up at the thought of staying at Juliette's home with her. He hasn't stayed at an actual house in God knows how long, just motels and spots on the side of the road where he could set up a shitty little camp. Banks imagines the domesticity of sharing a house with Juliette, even if for just a night, and feels himself become nauseous. Half of him, the half he presents to others, wants to be disgusted by the idea. The other half, the half that secretly wants to settle down and have a semi-normal life, is pleased by the idea.

After a few seconds of silence and Juliette eyeing him expectantly, Banks finally speaks. "Fine. We'll stay at your place. Are you sure it's safe there?"

Juliette nods and then tilts her head. "Yeah, of course, why wouldn't it be? Nobody's gonna come looking for you around there. I don't even live in the main part of El Centro, I live kind of on the outskirts. You'll be fine, I promise. I'll never betray you, remember?"

Banks looks at her for a second, analyzing her. He knows she isn't lying, no one has that good of a poker face. And he hates that he genuinely trusts her, because Banks never genuinely trusts anyone. He runs his hands through his hair, a nervous habit, and then places his hand back on the wheel.

"I know you won't." And then he actually smiles at her, one that doesn't read as unhinged, a sweet smile on those pretty lips of his.

Juliette smiles back and nods. "Good. I don't know if I have any groceries to make you something to eat, so we may still be going to a diner. Luckily, I know the best spots in El Centro."

Banks makes a sound of acknowledgement and gives a small nod. "Okay. You point me out where to go when we get to town."

"I will."

The thirty miles go by quickly, as Banks doesn't obey the speed limit. As they arrive in El Centro, Juliette begins to direct Banks to her house, pointing in the directions rather than using street names.

Banks begins to get frustrated by this. "Christ, Juliette, you live here, do you not know the name of the street you live on?"

"It's just easier to point it out!" She retorts, leaning across his arms and the steering wheel. "Right here! Turn here!"

He groans in annoyance at her crushing his arms with her double D's and clouding his vision with her waves of black hair. "Okay, okay! Get back in your seat!"

Banks pushes Juliette back to the passenger side and she moans softly when he does. The logical parts of her brain are screaming that he's a dick and she shouldn't give him the time of day, but the emotional parts are attracted to that fact. She likes that he's mean to her. She wonders if he knows this.

He does, in fact, know this. Banks notices her quiet noise of pleasure, the same she'd made when first handcuffed her. She hasn't fought back at anything he says, not being a smartass or defiant. Hell, she's not even a brat like he first thought she'd be. Juliette just looks at him with those big brown eyes and follows him like a little lost puppy. The way she said she'd be loyal to him forever was so honest and true.

Juliette would die, lie, steal, and kill for him, and it fills him with a sick sense of pride and lust.

"Okay, see this house here?" Juliette asks, pointing at a pink stilt house on the desert outskirts of El Centro.

"Yeah, that's your place?"

Juliette nods. "Yep! We're here!"

"Great," Banks mutters, half relieved and half anxious. He'd never let the anxious part show, though.

Both exit the car at the same time after Banks has parked it beneath her car port. She follows him and watches him retrieve a duffel bag from the backseat of the car, then two cases from the trunk. He then stands still at the end of the walkway.

"What?" Juliette asks.

"The door. Open it."

"Oh, shit, right," she says, rushing over to the corner across from the door, where a statue of an angel holding a dolphin like a baby sits.

Banks raises an eyebrow. "The fuck is that?"

Juliette lifts up the ridiculous statue and retrieves a key. "Hidden spare. I lost the other one on my way to kill those guys."

He scoffs. "Wow. Well, good job hiding the spare, I sure as hell wouldn't have looked under that stupid fucking statue."

As Juliette unlocks her door, she giggles. "Yeah, it's pretty stupid, but interesting, isn't it?"

Banks makes an annoyed sound of agreement. Juliette opens the door and leans against it so it will stay open for Banks. He walks through, not even thanking her, and she follows him.

"Lock it behind you," he instructs. Juliette does as she's asked. "Good. You got somewhere I can put this?"

Juliette nods towards a room with a half-open door. "Well, I'm assuming the duffel bag is clothes, you can put those in my room."

"So I'm sleeping in your bed?" He asks, walking in and dropping that bag on the aforementioned piece of furniture. It's a large bed, at least a queen size, and could easily be shared.

"Y-you want to?" Juliette says in shock.

"I'd like to, but will you have somewhere to sleep?" Banks places his two black cases on the floor at the foot, then makes himself at home on her bed.

"I-I thought you meant we'd share…" She says timidly.

Banks scoffs. "Sleeping with a man you just met? Did your parents not teach you stranger danger?"

Had she not been handcuffed, Juliette would have put her hands on her hips. "I think we're way past stranger danger, Banks. We met at the scene of a murder and I helped you bury the bodies, I think I trust you enough to share a bed."

Although he senses that Juliette wants to say this in a sarcastic manner, Banks notices that Juliette just…doesn't. Her docile demeanor remains, and everything she says is in a calm tone. He knows if it had been any of the girls he'd partnered with in the past, they'd have been spitting venom at him, and he'd have already been plotting their murder.

But not Juliette, not sweet, compliant little Juliette. He has no urge to put a bullet through her brain, he doesn't see her body being tossed in a hole in the desert. He sees the here and now, that she's under his spell, and perhaps he is even under hers, because he gets a pang of excitement at the thought of sleeping next to her.

After a few seconds of silence, of the two just staring each other down, Juliette holds out her hands.

"Banks, I don't have a problem with the handcuffs, and I'll even put them on again, but I don't think I can take a shower with them on. Can you…?"

He sighs hard, as if this is a difficult task, and slides off the bed. Retrieving a small key from his jeans pocket, he then takes Juliette's hands in his and undoes the cuffs, then tucks them back into his pocket.

Juliette's reaction to freedom is interesting. Instead of being happy, she looks…lost. It's like she misses the restraints. Sure, she gently rubs her wrists, which are red and raw and even bleeding in some spots, but she stares down at them like she wishes the handcuffs were still there.

"You're free," Banks calls once he's resting on the bed again. "Go on, go shower that nasty shit off."

She nods slowly, not taking her eyes off her wrists. "Y-yeah. Free."

With that, Juliette goes into the bathroom and undresses, kicking off her shoes first and then ripping everything else off. The gun and knife that had been shoved in her waistband and clipped to her fishnets, respectively, are placed carefully on the counter. The bloody, once white and pink tank top and pleated skirt are tossed in a pile on the floor, along with her fishnets, panties, and bra. Juliette wonders if the stains are beyond salvageable, and considers tossing out all the articles of clothing as if they are medical waste. Even the shoes, a pair of pink Converse high tops, are likely unable to be cleaned, so she imagines they'll have to be thrown away.

Before getting into the shower, Juliette looks at herself in the mirror above the sink, and is unusually calm with what she sees. Her face, chest, arms, hands, are all caked in thick layers of arterial blood. There are slightly chunkier spots on her face, from where Banks had shot that man in the head and his brain matter had splattered her skin. Her thick hair is crunchy with dried blood, there is plenty of the stuff caked beneath her acrylic nails, and even on her lips and eyes.

Juliette shrugs this off and steps into the shower, turning the water up as scalding as she can stand, and watches the red flow from her skin into the water, circling around the drain before going down it, gone forever. She decides to start her cleansing with her hair and gets its entire curly thickness wet, then scrubs a fair amount of shampoo into it. Squishing it down to rid it of suds and the filth it takes with it, Juliette feels the mix of white foam and wet-again blood trailing down her body.

She moves on to her skin, filling a loofah with copious amounts of coconut body wash and then scrubs it against her skin, harsh and rough. It takes several borderline scrapes over her arm to even budge the layer of filth that coats it, and she images it will be the same for the rest of her body.

…

Banks grows bored of lying in Juliette's bed after a while. He gets up and looks around her room, which is somewhat messy. Her clothes basket is overfilled with laundry, so the remainder is all over the floor. The vanity is messy, with makeup products of all kinds strewn across it, alongside trinkets of all kinds and a lamp. The TV on the dresser is parallel to the bed, flanked by a pile of VHS tapes. He looks once again at the bed, which is neatly made in comparison to the rest of the room- it has a baby blue knit blanket thrown over a white duvet and matching sheets and pillows. Several stuffed animals join the pillows at the head.

Her nightstand has a lamp with a pink fabric shade, and next to it is a cordless phone, alarm clock, and a few bottles of prescription pills. Banks considers opening the drawer, but decides against it, and leaves the bedroom. He notes that Juliette has a dining room, or at least a table and chairs for such a purpose, which look untouched. In the middle of the table is a large conch shell, which Banks is mildly impressed by- he wonders if Juliette found it herself.

The kitchen is the center of the house, with a bar made of cabinets forming the walls, sans one wall, which the refrigerator and stove are against. Banks goes into the kitchen and opens the fridge, curious if Juliette really doesn't have anything, and sure enough the only contents are a few bottles of beer, water, and a bag of shredded cheese. Banks grabs a beer and uses the counter to open the bottle, and sips it as he continues around the house.

The living room is nice, with one couch and two chairs. The TV is atop a small table with more VHS tapes piled by it, and a shelf next to it contains more tapes and some DVDs. Another shelf has several trinkets, mostly nautical themed. Banks pokes at a ceramic dolphin figurine.

"She's got a lot of stupid shit in her house," he muses, taking a sip of beer.

 He discovers another pair of doors on the same wall as her bedroom, one being a small bathroom with only a toilet and sink, the other being a tiny laundry room. After growing bored of strolling around, he goes back to the bedroom.

Initially, Banks wants to settle back down on the bed, but instead, he follows the sound of Juliette's voice. It's like a siren song, he thinks, and he finds himself leaning his ear against the door to the bathroom. Juliette is singing, not humming but full on singing, as she showers. Banks smiles, a grin of genuine enjoyment for once, and leans against the door to listen.

"Soundgarden," Banks mutters, noting that Juliette is performing her own rendition of "Black Hole Sun." She's good, he thinks, and for a second imagines something he hasn't done in a long time- playing guitar. But in this thought, Juliette is beside him, singing while he plays.

When the shower turns off, Banks moves away from the door, but stands adjacent to it, his arms crossed. Juliette exits a few minutes later, fresh and clean, clad in a pink silk robe and rubbing a towel over her hair.

Banks is somewhat stunned by a clean Juliette- he notices her skin is a beautiful light but warm tone, and without the gunk on her face he realizes her nose has a silver hoop pierced through it. Her lips look much softer and smoother, her eyes brighter. As is typical of a man, Banks finds himself staring at her fairly exposed chest, which is sizeable, and he feels himself become warm.

"Just let me get dressed and put on some makeup, then I'll show you a good place to eat, okay?" She says this casually, as if they have known each other forever and have a sense of domesticity between them.

Banks smirks. "You gonna get dressed in front of me?"

Juliette drops the towel and gasps. "I-I…do you want me to?"

He considers saying yes, as he truly does want to see what that little robe is hiding, but shakes his head. "Nah, I'll give you some privacy. I gotta take a piss anyway."

Brushing past her, Banks heads into the bathroom, taking his beer with him, and closes the door. Juliette sighs and digs in her dresser for something comfortable but cute, and settles on a pair of soft black shorts with a butterfly pattern and a pink ribbed tank top. Along with her undergarments, she pulls this on quickly, then sits down at her vanity to apply a bit of makeup before leaving.

Banks returns from the bathroom moments later, and watches Juliette as she does her makeup. The way she applies it is artistic, meticulous- her hands are steady and she swaps hands depending on what eye she's applying to. As she's standing up, she sprays a bit of vanilla body spray on herself and sets it down, then looks at him.

"I'm clean now," she says simply, staring at him across the room.

"I see that," Banks says, and steps up to her. His hands take her wrists in them, and he rubs gentle thumbs over the angry red marks the cuffs have left. "I shouldn't have left you handcuffed that long."

Juliette gasps under his touch and she avoids his gaze. "It's okay, Banks. I liked it, remember?"

After she says this, she gives him a playful smile. Banks returns it, but drops her wrists and drinks the remains of his beer. When he finishes, he tosses it into the trash, turns around, and gestures for Juliette to follow him.

"C'mon," he commands, "let's go eat. And use street names this time."

…

They sit across from each other in booth seats, and the only sound is the Dolly Parton song playing on the restaurant's sound system and Banks slurping down a cup of Coke through a straw.

"Banks?" Juliette pipes up, tapping her nails on her own cup of Dr Pepper.

He raises his eyebrows, continuing to drink for a second, then takes the straw out of his mouth and says, "What?"

"Thank you." It's all she says before taking a drink from her own cup.

Banks furrows his eyebrows. "For what?"

Juliette stops drinking and tucks a damp strand of hair behind her ear. "For saving me."

He nods subtly, but then says, "I wasn't saving you. I was killing a target. You just happened to be there."

She shrugs. "I guess so. But you still saved me in the process."

Banks scoffs and shakes his head. "Yeah, well, I'm not going to stand by and watch a girl get assaulted when I've got a gun."

"So even if he hadn't been a target, you would've saved me?"

"Obviously. Do you think I'm heartless?"

Juliette shakes her head. "No. I think you're great."

The fact that she says this genuinely makes him want to laugh. Banks is the furthest thing from a "great" person. Maybe eventually Juliette will remove her rose tinted glasses and see him for the man he really is, but for now, he has her wrapped around his finger. Banks wonders how much he can use her loyalty, how much she's willing to do for him. By the looks of it, she'd probably do anything.

"Are you two ready to order?" Asks the waitress, interrupting their mutual staring.

"Chicken fried steak with a side of fries, mashed potatoes, and gravy," Banks says simply, handing the waitress his menu.

"Three piece chicken tenders and fries," Juliette says to the waitress, and does the same.

The waitress takes the menus under her arm and scribbles their orders on her notepad. "Okay, is that everything for you?"

"Yes, thank you," Juliette says with a nod and a sweet smile.

"Yeah," Banks adds.

"Alright, it'll be a few minutes," the waitress says, and then she leaves and they are left in their own company again.

It's quiet on the conversation front once again, and they just look at each other. Juliette's stare is one of wonder, one that brings to mind hearts floating around her head or sparkling in her eyes. Banks has an unreadable expression on his face.

"You have a really good voice," Banks finally says before taking a drink.

Juliette is shocked, and feels her face flush. "Y-you heard me in the shower?"

Banks nods and swallows his drink. "I did. I sat by the door and listened."

"O-oh…" Juliette feels embarrassment wash over her and twirls a piece of hair around her finger.

He notices that this makes her blush, makes her nervous. "Does it bother you that I sat by the door while you showered? While you were in there all wet and naked?"

Juliette avoids his gaze. "No. It doesn't bother me." She neglects to admit that it arouses her.

A mischievous smirk creeps onto his face. "Did you think about me while you were in there?"

She doesn't answer, just speeds up the twirling of her hair around her finger and feels warmth spreading through her whole body. Banks notices, and his smirk widens.

"You can be honest," he says in that gruff voice of his, almost a growl. "Tell me, Juliette. When you were in the shower, did you think about me?"

With a shuddering breath, Juliette nods. Banks enjoys the thought of this and he leans forward a bit more, even though the table separates them. His boots touch Juliette's sneakers beneath it, and she jumps a bit.

"Juliette," Banks growls, "Look at me."

Her dark eyes nervously dart from the floor to Banks, and she bites her lip. That hair is coiled so tight around her finger it could easily cut off her circulation. But she's looking at his face now, noticing that wild grin.

"Good. Now tell me again, did you think about me while you were in the shower?"

Juliette feels like she could combust. Her body is on fire. "Yes, Banks, I did."

Banks leans back now, arms spread across the back of the booth. "Huh. What about me did you think of?"

She tries to look away again. "I dunno, just you."

He isn't satisfied with this, and takes one boot and presses it between her legs, and she squeals. Juliette needs him there, so badly that it hurts, but not his goddamn shoe! But still, she can't control her reaction, and leans into it, squeezing her thighs around it.

"Tell me what you thought about me in the shower," Banks says as he rubs his boot against her, "and when we get back to your place, I will fuck you so good you can't think, walk, or talk."

Juliette is trying to contain her moans from the friction he provides. "I…I thought about you and me, on the hood of your car…"

Banks smiles wider. "What were we doing on the hood of my car, Juliette? That's not very descriptive."

"We…you…" Juliette says between heavy breaths as Banks works his sole between her legs, "you had me bent over the hood and…and you were fucking me."

"Mhm," he growls, watching Juliette come unraveled just from his boot. "And the handcuffs?"

Juliette sighs. "What about them?"

"Were you wearing them?"

She nods furiously, feeling closer and closer to climaxing in public, from the friction of a goddamn boot. "I was."

Banks licks his lip and quickens his pace. "Now say the whole thing."

"Banks," Juliette pants nervously, "we're in a restaurant…"

"Nobody's here but us!" He snaps. "Say the whole thing."

"Y-you were fucking me…over the hood of the car…" She's nearly in tears. "And I had on handcuffs."

"Look at me while you say it," Banks demands, "Look at me while I make you cum."

Her eyes meet his and as she speaks, her body is quivering. "You were fucking me over the hood of the car while I wore handcuffs!"

"Good girl," he growls, and he feels her thighs tighten around his foot as she comes.

It was those two words that sent her, and she's breathing hard and rapidly and electricity is pulsing through her, all originating at that spot he rubs the sole of his boot against her. Her long nails dig into the table and she whimpers as he continues to overstimulate her, feeling so incredibly embarrassed and disgusted at doing this in public. Banks finally removes his boot and places it back where it belongs on the floor.

"I can feel the fucking cum, it's slippery all over my boot," Banks says lowly. "You're gonna clean it for me later."

Juliette nods, still hyperventilating. "Okay, okay. Why…why did you do that, Banks?"

He smiles and takes a sip of his Coke. "Because I can."

Seconds later, the waitress returns with their food and places the plates on the table. Although she doesn't say anything, she eyes Juliette curiously, noticing how flushed she was, how hard she was breathing.

"Thanks," Banks says to the waitress.

Juliette can only weakly stammer her gratitude, to the point the waitress doesn't really understand her, but the woman doesn't hold it against Juliette. She is curious why this girl is acting so different than a moment ago, but it isn't her business.

"You two enjoy," the waitress says before leaving.

It doesn't take much time for Banks to dig into his meal, but Juliette can only poke at hers, not having much of an appetite after the previous ministrations.

"Eat," Banks commands, nodding at Juliette's plate. "I'm paying for your food, so eat it."

Juliette nods solemnly and begins to eat her fries. The way she does it, she grabs a fry by one tip and eats only up to the part she's touching, then drops that tip and discards it. Banks watches her do this with every fry on the plate, and looks confused at her pile of fry-bits on the napkin beside it.

"Why do you do that?" He asks, looking at the pile like it's something disgusting.

She sips her drink and then says, "What do you mean?"

Banks gestures a fork full of steak to the pile. "That. The fries. Why do you eat them like that?"

"I dunno," she responds in a tone that indicates she too is curious, "I've just always done that."

Through a mouthful of food, Banks says, "Well it's fuckin' weird. Never met anyone who does that."

"I have OCD," Juliette says, as if it had just dawned on her. "Maybe it's a compulsion."

Banks smirks and wipes a bit of food from the corner of his mouth with his thumb. "I guess I do always end up with the crazy ones."

This only makes Juliette giggle. She begins to pick at her chicken strips, although she isn't really hungry anymore. All she can think of is what Banks had promised her he'd do when they get home. But, of course, that doesn't make for a mealtime conversation, so she asks about the second most important thing on her mind.

"Banks, what are you planning on doing while you're here?"

He swallows a bite of food before speaking. "Going after the rest of that crew, my targets. You're gonna help me track them down, remember?"

Juliette nods. "Yeah, but like…why exactly are they your targets? Who wants them dead?"

"It's a crew of drug dealers," Banks explains, "so I'd assume my client is a rival of theirs. I don't know anything about him other than he's enlisted me for his dirty work and he wants that whole circle dead. I don't ask questions, I just do what I'm asked and get paid. Kind of like how you don't ask me questions and just do what you're asked."

"Except I don't get paid," Juliette points out. "Compensated, but not paid."

He smirks, but there's a danger behind his expression. "Watch it. I promise you, the way you get paid will be worth much more than money. You just have to do what?"

Juliette smiles and sighs almost dreamily. "Never betray you."

Banks returns the expression and takes another bite. "Good girl. Finish your food and we'll go back home and get things straightened out."

The rest of the meal is mostly quiet on their front. A party of three enters at one point, and they all seem to stare at Juliette like some sort of freak. Banks picks up on this, and his instincts tell him to beat them within an inch of their life.

"You know them?" He asks lowly, as they are seated behind him.

Juliette says, "yes. They work at the same hospital as me. All three are from OBGYN, two are nurses and one is a doctor."

Banks thinks again about how they stared at her. "Why did they look at you like that?"

She sighs and rolls her eyes. "Ugh…God…so, I went to nursing school with two of them, and one was one of our instructors. Funny, right? Anyways, one day the instructor asks the class if anyone would be totally against working in OBGYN, and when I was the only person who said I was against it, she asked why. I told her the truth, that I can't stand babies and pregnancy disgusts me. One of the nurses was pregnant at the time, so of course she was offended, and the other one and the instructor had kids. Instructor worked in OB, too. None of the other people in my class held a grudge over that, but these three still do. Every time one of their patients is involved with my department, emergency surgery, they treat me like trash and glare at me and shit talk me."

Banks snorts. "They're mad you don't like babies and think pregnancy is gross? Sounds like they took it too personally. So I'm guessing that having kids isn't on your to-do list?"

Juliette laughs, actually laughs, at this. "Fuck no it isn't. Even if I wanted kids, I can't have them. I had a hysterectomy because of my severe endometriosis a couple years back."

He eyes her curiously. "What's that?"

"What's what?"

"Endo…endo whatever. What is it?"

She sighs, anticipating him not to know the first thing about anatomy, and racks her brain for a way to explain it to a clueless cis man. "Okay, so, this is gonna get gross. Are you sure you want to hear it during lunch?"

"Go for it," he replies, taking a sip of soda. "I assure you I've heard and seen worse."

Juliette inhales sharply. "Alright, well, you know how every time a person gets a period, it's because they didn't get pregnant. During the cycle, a uterus builds up a special lining that is meant to have a fertilized egg, a future fetus, attach to. But when the period happens, this lining sheds, causing the bleeding.

With endometriosis, this lining grows in places other than inside the uterus. For me, it was on the outer part of my uterus, on my pelvic walls, and even one adhesion sticking my abdominal wall to my intestine. Some people can get it in even crazier spots, like the lungs, but those are my locations.

Anyways, that inappropriate lining, called an adhesion, causes a lot of abdominopelvic pain. It makes periods pretty much unbearable, more painful and bloody than last night, if you can believe it. So horrible I couldn't move, I was bedridden. Birth control helped for a while, but eventually it became unbearable, and I was lucky enough to get a good gynecologist to yank that fucker out. Sadly, there are still adhesions elsewhere that cause a lot of pain, but there really isn't much to do there."

Banks watches her intently while she speaks. Juliette is clearly good at her job in the medical field, and she puts the workings of endometriosis into a way he can understand rather easily.

"I'm sorry about that," Banks says, actually sympathetic. "It must be really painful."

Juliette shrugs. "It is, but I live with it."

He suddenly develops a sort of conscience or sympathetic side. What can he do for Juliette's pain, asks the kinder parts of his brain. What if this makes her unable to perform, asks the usual, irritable parts that he shows to the world. Having to put a bullet in the head of a girl that gorgeous and loyal who can't get pregnant would be the biggest upset in history.

"So, do you think it'll impact your…performance in your work with me?" Banks asks.

Juliette knows he's testing her, wanting her to admit that it will and she may not be up to snuff, and this will seal her fate as another of Banks's failed partners.

"No," she replies with certainty. "Even if I'm in pain, I'll still do what you need me to do. If I can stand through several long and complicated surgeries during my regular job, I'm sure I can power through it for you. Especially because it's you."

Banks smiles enthusiastically, knowing Juliette is telling the truth. "I like to hear that. I once had a partner who has diabetes- err, maybe not, considering she lied to me about everything else, but that's besides the point. She had diabetes and I had to make sure she had her insulin and snacks to level out her blood sugar. Surprisingly, I didn't mind it much. Her nagging about needing a snack was kind of annoying, but understandable. If I could work with that, I can work with your thing."

She beams at him. "Thanks. So…what happened to her?"

"Who?"

"The diabetes chick."

Banks sighs. "Triple agent. Working for the feds but also for herself, fucked me over in the process. But I caught up to her, and now she's dead, because I killed her."

Juliette sips her drink. Why does the thought of Banks killing someone out of revenge make her heart flutter? Perhaps it is knowing what it's like to kill for revenge, or maybe it is because she longs to see Banks kill again. She knows she will eventually, but this gets her mind going.

"Good," she finally says with conviction, "if she betrayed you, she deserved to die. I would never betray you."

"I know," Banks responds, "You've told me. And if you don't betray me, you won't end up like her. You're already so much different than her."

Juliette feels her face heat up again. "In…in a good way?"

Banks nods and smiles. "In every possible good way."

They both decide the meal is finished, so Banks tosses cash for the bill on the table, along with a tip, and begins to leave with Juliette. However, he notices the table of mean girl nurses staring at Juliette again, and it enrages him. Banks wraps his arm around Juliette's back and places his hand on her ass, but not before slapping it hard. Juliette yelps in pleasure and looks up at him in wonder.

"Banks, what was-" she begins, but is cut off.

"C'mere," Banks replies gruffly, using his other hand to tip her face towards his own and then kisses her deeply.

Juliette is shocked, but she can't help but lean into the kiss and moan. Banks does the same, adding tongue to the kiss and growling low in his chest. As he pulls away, he takes her lower lip between his teeth and pulls, then smiles wickedly.

"I fuckin' love you," Banks says, flicking his eyes from Juliette's lovestruck face to the table of mean girls, who all look at the two in awe and jealousy.

"Oh God, I love you too," Juliette replies breathlessly, leaning in for another kiss, but Banks pulls away.

"That's enough for now," he growls, tightening his grip on her ass. "Remember what I said about when we get home?"

Juliette nods rapidly. "Yes, oh God yes."

"Then go get in the car."

He then leads her out the door to the car and they climb in. Juliette is staring at him with sparkling eyes, but he doesn't look at her the same way. In fact, he puts on his aviators and avoids looking at her entirely.

"Banks, why did you do that?" She asks, still feeling like her heart could explode.

Banks has a cigarette in his mouth and a lighter in his hand, the latter of which he hands to Juliette. "Light it."

She obeys, and when it is lit and he pulls away, she asks again, "Banks, seriously, why did you do that?"

"Do what?" He asks as he pulls out of the parking lot.

"Put on that show in the restaurant. Kiss me like that. Tell me you love me."

Banks scoffs. "To make those other nurses jealous of you. I know none of them are getting that kind of attention in their life, so showing them that you are is gonna get under their skin."

Juliette feels a bit discouraged. "...Oh. So you didn't mean any of it?"

"The kissing and the touching, sure. But do you really think I'm gonna mean it when I say "I love you" after only knowing you for a day and you don't even know my full name?"

She shrugs and looks out the window. "Okay."

"What?" Banks laughs, "did you really mean it when you said you love me too?"

Juliette wants to scream that she does, that even if they had only known each other for a day and she doesn't know his full name, she does love him. Or at least, she is infatuated with him.

"No, you're right," Juliette replies, "it would be stupid. Like you said, I don't know your first name."

The rest of the ride home is quiet, with Juliette just staring out the window. She feels upset, even if it isn't logical. Someday, if he stays around for it, maybe Banks will mean it when he says he loves her. If he stays. If he ever says it again.

…

Back at home, Juliette unlocks the door for him without being asked, then locks it behind her when they're both inside. She barely has time to take off her shoes before Banks grabs her hand and pulls her into him, placing his other hand at the back of her head and tilting it back. Their faces are close, noses would be touching if Juliette was a few inches taller.

"Banks, what are you-" she begins, but is interrupted by him pulling her into a frenzied kiss, making the one from the restaurant look like a little peck on the lips.

He was utterly devouring her, assaulting her mouth with his tongue and teeth, tasting every inch of the inside of it. Juliette herself is so stunned and lovestruck she doesn't even fight back with her tongue or any extra action- she just accepts his hungry kisses and melts into him with desperate moans, her hands pawing at his shirt helplessly. She wants to rip it open and run her hands over that gorgeous chest, but she's far too submissive for that.

"What, you can't undo buttons with those long nails of yours?" Banks teases between kisses, taking the liberty of stripping out of the shirt himself.

Juliette's eyes widen as the buttons pop open with the force of his pulls, and her hands immediately take place on his chest, massaging it and feeling the scratch of body hair on her palms. Banks smiles down at her and runs his own hands under her top and fills them with her breasts, so soft and squishy and plump that one hand alone cannot contain one of them. He begins kissing her again as they feel each other, appreciating what Juliette had only seen working in the desert heat and Banks had only partially seen caked in blood.

The two begin walking backwards into the bedroom, and Banks moves both their bodies so that he can push Juliette onto the mattress and climb on top of her. His hands move a bit differently and slide off her tank top and bra over her head, revealing her nude torso completely. Banks has to stop for a moment and admire what he sees- not even touching, just admiring.

"You have perfect tits," he growls, moving his hands back to them to squeeze them roughly.

Juliette yelps under his touch, but it's not a yelp of discomfort. Banks smirks when he notices how she reacts when his fingers brush over her nipples- her desperate moans become squeaky and she draws her legs together tight. He takes this as a positive response and pinches them both simultaneously, earning a cute little cry that makes him even hungrier for her.

Pulling back for just a moment, Banks reaches for his back pocket, and Juliette is well aware of what he's getting. There are those handcuffs again, still shiny despite the small smears of dried blood from her wrists. He clips one cuff onto her wrist before sliding the chain around one of the rails of the headboard, then clips the other cuff onto her other wrist. After this, he looks down at her again, practically salivating at the sight.

Banks crawls on top of her, his hands running over every inch of her soft skin. He changes his location of affection to her neck, and begins to leave messy kisses all over the tender flesh. Juliette writhes beneath him, panting and moaning desperately. Her hands are grabbing at nothing, as they're restrained above her head, but if they weren't, she'd be digging her fingers into his hair and pulling his face closer to her neck.

Sensing her sensitivity in that particular spot, Banks smiles against her skin and then opens his mouth wider to take a bite, sinking his teeth in enough that it hurts, but in a pleasant way. Juliette responds with a shamefully pornographic moan, wishing she could wrap her legs around his waist, though they're pinned beneath him.

"You like being bitten, babygirl?" Banks growls into her ear, nipping at her lobe.

She squeaks and nods in response, feeling a burning in her core that is becoming intolerable. Juliette needs him so, so badly, the incident at the restaurant was not nearly enough to satisfy her lust for this man.

Banks loves watching Juliette squirm, and he is having fun marking her up with bite marks and bruises, but he, too, is becoming so aroused it hurts. If he doesn't unzip his jeans and free his aching cock, Banks feels like he may die. So he moves back and pulls Juliette's legs from beneath him, takes off both her shorts and panties in one swift motion, then places her legs over his shoulder.

"All this for me?" He asks as he drags two fingers over her opening, which is dripping wet and more than ready for him. "Wow."

Watching Banks pop his two wet fingertips into his mouth and lick them clean makes Juliette shudder and let out a tiny, desperate whimper. Banks smiles again as he undoes his belt and pants, then slides them and his boxers down enough to free his dick, which is painfully hard. Juliette gasps when she sees it, as it's the most perfect one she's ever seen. Just the right length, not too big, but not at all small. Average thickness, but enough that Juliette knows it will stretch her out. The shape is one they'd model dildos after, an ideal circumcised cock.

Juliette desperately tries to pull him closer to her using her legs, but he clicks his tongue and smacks her ass, hard enough to leave behind a handprint. With such an impact, Juliette cries out in pleasure, her toes curling and calves squeezing his shoulders.

"You don't get fucked until I decide it's time," Banks scolds, feeling up her squishy, soft thighs. "So impatient. You know that won't fly with me."

Juliette nods helplessly, her black waves falling over her face. "Yes sir. I won't do it again."

Banks shifts her hips closer to him so he can rub himself against her. "Good girl," he coos, sliding his dick against her, lubricating it all too well.

It's teasing her, making it nearly unbearable to just sit there and take it. Juliette wants so badly to use her legs to pull him inside her, but he told her the rules, and she promised to obey, so she just squirms beneath him, panting and whining at his ministrations.

But it is also teasing Banks, and he doesn't like being teased, so without warning, he thrusts into her, gripping her thighs so tight there will be bruises from his fingertips the next day. Juliette practically screams, but the sound is cut short when Banks wraps a hand around her throat. He squeezes just hard enough to leave her dizzy, but not enough to hurt her.

After that first thrust, Banks pulls out slowly, letting out a low growl himself, then pushes back inside quickly, and sets a much faster, more aggressive pace. His hand trails from Juliette's neck to her side, and the other hand matches it so that she's held bilaterally. Banks dives his face down as he fucks her and rubs his face between her breasts, gently scratching her skin with his stubble.

Banks then begins licking and sucking her nipples, switching from breast to breast every few seconds, which has Juliette practically crying. As he sinks his teeth into one nipple, Juliette screams, and the fire that had been burning in her core releases through her body as she comes. Banks smiles to himself that what brought her over the edge was a little bite, but continues with what he's doing.

"That feel good, baby?" He asks, grating his teeth over the opposite nipple. "Do I make you feel good?"

She nods hopelessly, continuing to cry out as he continues to fuck her. "Yes, Banks! Oh fuck yes, Banks, you make me feel so good!"

"That's right," he growls in response, an absolutely devilish grin on his face. "I'm the only one that's ever gonna make you feel this good. You know that don't you?"

"Fuck yes, Banks!! Oh fuck!" Juliette cries in response. Her cuffed hands are grasping at nothing, long nails digging into her own palms, wishing they could hold Banks.

He moves his face up some more as he fucks her and his hands follow, tangling in her long, black hair as he dives into more ravenous kisses. Juliette opens her mouth for him happily and readily, accepting his tongue inside. Between nearly gagging her with his tongue, Banks bites at her lip and pulls, smiling with it between his teeth as he looks down at an awestruck Juliette.

Their mouths connect again, and Banks's growls and Juliette's moans echo into each others' throats. He's still pounding into her, and she's trying hard not to cum, wanting this to last as long as possible, but it's hard when Banks's cock is pushing right against a spot that drives her crazy. When he pulls on her hair, Juliette lets out one of the loudest moans yet as she climaxes once more, the sounds of pleasure repeating each time he hits that spot.

Banks has tucked his face into her neck and resumed sucking and biting on it, the sensation of which only prolongs her already seemingly endless orgasm. Juliette's lash line is decorated by tears threatening to drip down her cheeks, and her throat is even drier than it had been in the desert. Her core now aches from the repetitive contractions, but it still feels so good she can't push Banks away.

He only focuses on her neck for a moment, leaving after running his tongue over each spot he'd bitten, cooling the stinging sensation. Banks then looks down on Juliette as he takes her at a different angle, leaving one leg over his shoulder and letting the other lay on the mattress. This brings a whole new sensation, only heightened when Banks begins to rub a rough thumb over her clit. In seconds, Juliette is seeing stars as the combined pleasure sends her over the edge harder than ever.

"That's a good girl," Banks growls as he continues to overstimulate her. He notices she's practically crying now, and it's bringing him closer. "Cum for me, Juliette."

When he says her name, Juliette responds by screaming his. "Banks! Holy shit! I-I…"

Banks makes a noise of approval and lets out a low groan when the contractions of her walls around him finally force him to finish. He slows his pace as he empties himself into her, not stopping until he's spent. When he pulls out, a filthy mix of both their cum squelches out onto the bed.

Juliette is panting hard, her entire body covered in a sheen of cold sweat. Banks pushes his hair back with his hand and sighs, leaning over her to unlock her cuffs. When Juliette is free, she wraps her arms around him, burying her face in his chest.

"You are something else," Banks says, trailing his fingers between strands of her hair. "Get off me for a second, I need to lie down."

She does as Banks asks and climbs off him, and he lies on his back. She reclines on her side and watches him in wonder, looking like a painting of a goddess as her long hair drapes over both breasts in a natural censor. Never has she felt so much adoration for another person, and never has another person brought her so much pleasure.

Banks gestures to his boots, which he still wears. "Take these off for me, and clean off that mess you made at the diner."

At first, Juliette doesn't know what to do or say, as she's shaken from her lovestruck trance. But then she climbs off the bed and goes to the bathroom to grab a rag, runs it under water, and returns to the foot of the bed. She kneels and removes Banks's boots one by one, then carefully runs the damp cloth over them. He was right- the one that he'd used to pleasure her in the restaurant was covered in a sheer, thin crust of her fluids on the sole and toe.

After both are clean, she holds them up as if to ask if she did okay, and Banks nods. He then jerks his head towards the bed, a tired smile on his lips.

"You did good. C'mon, get up here. You deserve a rest."

Juliette smiles so hard her cheeks hurt and climbs into bed next to Banks, draping herself over his chest. He takes a cigarette and his lighter from his pocket, and considers asking her to light it for him, but decides against it and does it himself. As he finishes the cigarette, he watches Juliette, who falls asleep in only moments.

Banks wonders why Juliette puts him on such a pedestal. Oh, sure, he saved her from abuse and offered her a better life, but he'd done that to all the others before her, and none had looked at him with the same starry eyes she did. He almost felt bad that he'd use this adoration to his advantage, because it was so genuine and Juliette meant every word of it. Despite what a despicable man Banks was, Juliette thought of him as a God, or an angel, or something more than human.

His fingers begin to unconsciously comb through her hair, gently, as if she is being petted. Every detail of her face becomes apparent to him, even if her eyes are shut- the pouty, heart-shaped lips, the two little Dolly Parton beauty marks at their corner. A cute nose that ends in a rounded point, a silver hoop pierced through it, which he did not notice until her face was clean. Round, adorable cheeks giving her face a heart shape, with small blemishes across them nearly indistinguishable from freckles. Her eyes are shut, but he's well aware of their deep brown color, one that glitters when the light hits it right. Her makeup, which had been applied so carefully earlier, is now smeared, but even without mascara her lashes are long and curl upwards as they hit her cheek.

In the car, Banks had told her she had the face of an angel, and that's because that is the thing that comes to mind when he looks at her- an oil painting of an angel, with rose-tinged rounded cheeks and lips, big eyes with wing-like lashes, an aura of light practically beaming off her. Even her body is reminiscent of those paintings, soft and made of curves rather than sharp points. She is not particularly thin, with an average amount of meat on her bones, but her breasts, hips, and thighs accumulate most of the weight, giving her a shapely hourglass figure.

Once Banks's cigarette has finished up, he ousts it with his tongue and tosses it into the trash, as Juliette has no nearby ashtray. He shuffles a bit so that he can pull the covers over himself and Juliette, but it doesn't disturb her at all. When they're both finally covered up, Banks wraps his arms around her sleeping form and falls asleep himself, feeling content for the first time in a long time.