It Happened That Summer ~ Bucky Barnes

Chapter 45

TW: Murder

"Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves." 

Present time...

Farah's POV

I jumped in the Taxi car as soon as it pulled up. I got in and said the address so fast, I'm sure he asked me to repeat myself.

I couldn't focus. I couldn't focus on anything. All I wanted- needed to do was to figure this all out. My leg bounced up and down as my hands started to shake. I closed my fist and squeezed, trying to somehow stop the shaking in my hands.

I was nervous, sweat trickled down my head and I wiped it away with the back of my hand. I let out a breath, trying to steady my unsteady breathing. The taxi pulled up on the side of my destination. I reached in my purse and grabbed 2 $20 and placed them in his hand as I opened the door.

I closed the door behind me and stared at the house in front of me. I made no effort to move. I was too nervous about what was going to happen. Maybe I should've called first but... fuck it.

I stride up to the door and knock. Nothing, so I knock again, harder this time. The door swings open and before they can say anything I push my way through the door and walk to their room.

My breath is even more unsteady and I have to take a breather as I finish walking up the steps. I feel their presence behind me and I slowly turn around.

My eyes latch onto his blue eyes and I almost fall apart. I placed my bag down on his bed before clearing my throat.

"Hey, are you okay?" Bucky asked me, his voice laced with concern.

Was he concerned when he was committing murder?

"I have something to say... I just don't know how..." I trailed off.

Bucky looked to the side as if he was looking for someone. I looked to the bathroom and saw the door was closed so I decided to ignore it.

"You can tell me anything... you know that, right?"

I nodded, "I know. I just don't want things to change between us."

"I promise nothing will change between us."

I sighed, "Isn't it weird?"

Bucky raised a brow, "What?"

"How they never found their killers."

"Steve and Wanda?" He asked me.

I nodded, "Yeah. It's crazy because weren't the killers right under their noses?"

Bucky shrugged, not catching onto what I was saying, "I guess?"

Maybe he doesn't remember. That's the thing with trauma; sometimes memory loss is the main thing. Sometimes when something is too traumatic for you, your brain shuts it out, like it doesn't want to be bothered with it because it's too much. Like the brain decides what gets to take up space in your mind and what doesn't.