kill for you - b.b

20.

"Is it possible to book a cake order now?" The customer inquired. "Or does it have to be on the phone?" Nellie was running the front today, Nova working with deliveries and Elsie had her day off. Ruth, on quiet days, left the girls to run it. They were more than capable.

"Usually it's over the phone," Nellie responded sweetly, hearing the doorbell ring as another customer had walked in. "But since it's a quiet day,
I can write it down." Nellie hadn't noticed the other customer until she caught a glimpse of a flashy watch. Her eyes trailed up the toned arm, to Bucky's face. Her breath hitched in her throat; what the fuck was he doing here? Most likely coming to ruin her life again, and her relationship too.

"And what day will you be picking it up?" She asked, visibly uncomfortable. The man answered her question, leaving the store as Nellie placed the notebook to the side. Upon looking into his eyes, she'd forgotten everything she'd learnt with Chris to get over him.

"What can I get for you?" She asked politely, like she did with every customer. He stood cockily before her, a smirk forming on his face. He knew what he was doing, he knew how he made her feel. He'd been watching her for a few weeks now, knowing all about her little boyfriend and her constant trips to the club.

"Hm. I'd like one lovely lady for dinner, tonight." He spoke, his words serious but his tone the opposite. Nellie rolled her eyes; turning away from him to continue her job. She was still frightened, the last she saw of him was the day she'd been put in danger. For numerous nights after, she couldn't sleep. She had nightmares about the gunshots, and it was worse because she couldn't tell anyone about it. She couldn't approach her father, boyfriend, or friends and say, 'hey, I was involved in a car chase and almost got shot in the back of my head, and now I have nightmares about it.'

"Go away, James."

It secretly burned a hole in his heart to hear her being so bitter towards him. Three months apart, and he's still missing her dearly. He just wants someone to hold some nights, someone to spend time with, someone he could have as a getaway from his life as a criminal. He knew it was his fault, his reckless decisions that had led to the downfall of the one thing he needed most. Her.

"Come on, doll. One night." He pleaded, not wanting to sound too desperate, so he added a light chuckle. She wasn't budging. It would be very unlike him to plead, cry on her shoulder, tell her how good he had it before he fucked it up.

Nellie sighed, knowing he wouldn't leave, but she had no intentions of giving into him. What kind of a woman would she be? Every time she had even the slightest thought of Bucky, she tried putting Chris ahead of it. "No, James. I have a boyfriend, and I don't have time for you anymore."

But you'll have time to go to the club? He thought. He could never say that aloud, she'd skin him alive for being so rude, especially after everything he put her through. So instead of pushing, he left. Without another word.

Nellie knew it was horrible, she knew it was fucked up. But she'd hoped he stayed. She'd hoped he'd fight for her.

Nellie thought she wouldn't see him for a while after the incident at work, but she ended up seeing him the next night. She was on a run, jogging lightly up to the field. She passed her and Bucky's usual spot, most times she'd see the empty car space where his flashy Bugatti would be. But this time, it caught her eye.

A black McLaren P1 with red detailing. And a large, red bow plastered to the hood. Sighing heavily, she continued her jog. The one day she decided to not bring earbuds, the one fucking day she wanted to hear utter silence.

"Doll." He called out. Her knees felt like jelly whenever she heard it. Chris' pet names were along the lines of sweetheart, honey, bubs. Cute, but nothing compared to doll.

"You like your gift?" He wondered, slowly approaching her. He was wearing a button up and suit pants. No blazer. Only James Barnes would be the one to buy a $1m car in an effort to win his ex back. But she was more than his ex — she was his everything, his reason to wake up in the morning, his reason to not get involved in a high risk crime, his light in his underworld of darkness.

"Why the fuck did you buy a McLaren?" She asked, staring at the man before her. She knew he was crazy, but this crazy? He folded his arms, leaning against the beauteous car. It looked stunning, she had to admit. She always had a thing for sports cars.

"For you. I know you said you liked them." He answered casually. She wanted to laugh, but also cry, run away, bawl into her therapist's arms at her life that grew harder everyday.

"I saw ONE commercial. ONE. And you see that as me professing my love for a sports car? How the hell do I explain this to my dad when I park in in our driveway? My dad isn't stupid enough to realise that a baker's salary doesn't buy a million dollar car." She shouted, no longer caring about being quiet for the surrounding homes.

"How would this look for me? He's already suspicious of me, might I add. His team found Diego's body, and I'm the only one he knows with a motive." She argued, quieter than before. She didn't want to incriminate herself, Bucky fearing to interrupt her. "So not only have you made me a possible suspect in a murder investigation, you want to cement the suspicion by watching me drive home an expensive sports car?"

Her blood was boiling, every calming technique she learnt in therapy was out of the window now. She couldn't bare to look at Bucky's smug face any longer, but approached him nonetheless. She struck him across his face, his face swinging to the left harshly. He knew he deserved it, in fact, it was the least he deserved.