Falling for the Enemy || Captain America || Book 1

Chapter 32: What's My Worst Fear?

"Lillian, just as ignorant I see."

"Samuel, just as stupid I see."

He cocks an amused eyebrow. "Stupid? Is that the best comeback the great Nightingale has for me?"

I nonchalantly shrug as if I was ordering a coffee and they asked if I wanted sugar or not, continuing to talk into the microphone "There's a difference between offering a common and overused insult and taking part of my precious and important time to actually come up with one of my legendary insults for a guy who clearly doesn't even deserve the gum off my shoe." This comically earned me an 'oooooooo' from the audience. Wondering why I'm acting so snide towards him when we're actually on pretty decent terms? Simple. I don't think that's Samuel Hemmings. Why? He would never have called me stupid; he doesn't act so tough or stiff, and is frankly quite awkward when it comes to fighting me. So..... not him.

His face proceeds to turn a darker shade of red. "Watch your tone around me Nightshade." Really not him.

I blink. "Was that supposed to be your scary tone? I think a toddler would have giggled at that."

I observe as his black leather gloved hand clenches and begins to shake, his other hand moving to pull the glove off. So, I quickly ask him something to determine my suspicions. "What's my worst fear?"

He blinks in surprise at my random and odd question. "What?"

I place the microphone closer to my mouth. "What. Is. My. Worst. Fear?"

His eyes dart back and forth in confusion. "Small knives?"

An almost sardonic grin conquers my face. "You're not Samuel Hemmings."

Something flickers behind his eyes, yet whatever is controlling him, grasps a firm hold of his mind immediately afterwards, prohibiting his short lived revolution.

"I am quite the man you once met, yet have been... liberated, until I was completely and utterly loyal to the cause."

A hand reaches and grasps my shoulder lightly, almost inducing my reflexes to flip the person over my head swiftly and onto the floor ungracefully. Luckily, I realize who said person is.

Steve's lips brush almost teasingly against my ear, as he whispers "Brain...washed..." before unexpectedly slumping against my body and passing out cold. Struggling to hold his how many kilogram limp body up, I huff exasperatedly as I ease him into one of the chairs facing the stage, turning to Natasha and Clint and ordering "Keep an eye on him. Don't need any HYDRA soldiers going on a kidnapping spree."

Picking up the microphone that collapsed to the floor during Steve's plunge, I compose myself for a split second before quirking my lips into a sly smirk, flipping my hair over my shoulder self-assuredly. Oh yeah, I have a plan.

"Loyal? Loyal? I've seen more loyal dogs than you. Even better, I've seen more loyal cats. You're in it for you own selfish needs, your own desires. You don't fool me Samuel Hemmings. Got a nice little clique behind you though. Did you buy them at the $2 store along with your brain?"

His lip curls. "My brain is very much my own."

Mischief glistens in my eyes. "But is it?"

I did it. My plan worked. I pushed him, until he made his stupid ass move. He can send enough volts through the human body to kill it 100 times over, but get this; I control the four elements. Fire. Water and Ice. Air. Earth. Did you know electricity has no effect on the earth? Pfft, weird right?

As soon as the electricity sparks between his now gloveless fingers, accompanied by the sinister and vindictive glint in his sparking eyes, I lift my entire right foot up and loudly stomp it to the floor with as much force as I can muster. Immediately, the earth hidden beneath all the piping, carpet, timber and concrete, erupts and bursts through the floor, forming an incredibly dense and breathtaking wall in front of all the innocent civilians, dividing the room into two halves, HYDRA on one side, the civilians and us on the other. The wall rises until it meets the ceiling – which is a very high ceiling – and hopefully gives us enough time to evacuate all the civilians. Since when was I a softy?