Soldier Boy

33

AN- this chapter is a longgg one. It has both of their perspectives, so you'll read from Inessa first, then James. Enjoy? Maybe?

*Inessa*

He was so close. So close. If you asked me when I first met him if I would ever feel the urge to plant my lips in his, or have them anywhere close to his, I would have shot you, then told you no. But here I am. Damn you Lola. As I slip my jacket over my arms, I hear a shatter sound, making me freeze.

Just as I open the bathroom door, I hear loud and quick footsteps, along with a few grunts from downstairs.

"Abuelita?" I pause for a moment, waiting for her reply.

"Inessa. Estoy en la cocina." Someone's here. She never calls me by my name. I slip back into the bathroom, hoping that I left my gun in here, but unfortunately I didn't. Okay think. I look around the bathroom and really, the only thing I could use was the alcohol. The scissors were too small, and I didn't have my knife on me. Fuck. I grab the bottle, slipping back out into the hallway.

"What's for dinner?" I yell, reaching my way to the top of the stairs.

"Tu favorito. Pollo y arroz." Definitely not my favorite.

"James?" I try speaking into his mind, but I don't get an answer. "Abuelita?"

"Sí?" Her voice sounds forced, frightened.

"Where's Miguel?" If she answered this one wrong again, it confirmed one of my worst fears. I'm not safe. I didn't want anyone to get hurt, but it seems wherever I go, getting people hurt seems to be my specialty. I slowly and quietly creak my way down the stairs, hearing a shriek from her.

"Esta en el jardin." Fuck. They didn't have a garden. I get down the stairs, and to my incredible luck, my duffel bag is hanging on the coat rack. Fortunately it was still unzipped, and I reach my hand in, grabbing my gun and an emergency grenade. Sue me.

"You might as well come out, Stark." A man speaks up. "Don't want to hurt granny." I let out a long breath, gripping tight on my gun. I slide against the wall until the doorframe, letting my gun be the first to see the room before I do, and that's when I see who it was.

"Rumlow." I grit my teeth.

"Don't be polite. I know your not." Rumlow holds a gun to Lola's head, her eyes wide in fear. "Now, I don't want to mess up granny's lovely kitchen," He steps closer, pressing the gun right into her temple. "But I will if you don't give me what I want."

"And what's that?" I move my finger onto the trigger, itching to blow this guys brains out.

"You know what." He smirks.

"I don't know what your talking about." My eyes flick to the cabinet behind him, seeing a blood smear.

"Where is he?" Rumlow's face turns annoyed, making me slightly amused. Rumlow was always shoot first ask later kinda guy, but he knew I was that type too.

"Who?" I ask sarcastically, tilting my head.

"Don't fucking play with me!" He steps behind Lola, grabbing her chin with his free hand, pushing the gun into her skin. "Where the hell is he!"

"Duck." I hear James's voice, and a silent wave of relief washes through me. Thank god. "Inessa. Duck." Not hesitating I drop to my knees, tucking my head into my chest. I hear Rumlow take a sharp breath in, dropping his gun to the floor. Lola runs out of her seat, running as fast as she could outside.

Seeing my chance, I jump to my feet, taking a few long strides, sliding over the kitchen table, sticking my feet out. I nail him in the gut, making him drop to his knees, and I land gracefully on my feet which land on either side of his head. I aim my gun down at his face, placing my finger back on the trigger, but a pair of shoes pull my attention. I look up from the shoes to the back of Miguel's head, his eyes still open, blood pooling under his face.