#37: After the Credits

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A/N: Here it is!! It's been a wild ride, but we're just getting started my friends! Let me know some of your favorite parts or what you're looking forward to in the future! 

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"The truth always comes out.

Sometimes it's right away and other times it's down the road,

but listen to me very closely...

the truth always comes out." –unknown

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Brock Rumlow missed his face. That was his only thought as he stared in the flower shop window at his reflection. The Nano Mask he wore gave off the illusion that he was handsome again, but he knew it was a lie. A trick. If he took the mask off his scars would show. He missed his features, that was his main thought, but it was a lie saying it was his only one. Rumlow also thought about how eager he was to slowly choke the life out of Steve Rogers and his friends. It's all he dreamed about these days.

He readjusted his jacket, feeling the gun shift in the holster he wore, and moved away from the window. Strucker wasn't a patient man so the faster he grabbed the girl the faster he'd get to be done with this and get back to his own personal vendetta.

The target sat at a table alone drinking coffee and flipping through a book. It was in the middle of the afternoon and the area surrounding them was heavily crowded. That made it a little tougher. Rumlow had never been the agent who went undercover. He was the kind you called after the undercover mission was blown to shit and you needed muscle and firepower.

Rumlow blew out a sigh of annoyance and pushed through the crowd. As he got close, he pulled out his phone and when he stepped into place he dropped it with a loud curse. The phone clattered across the stone bricks and landed under the woman's chair.

"Shit, I'm so sorry ma'am." Rumlow said quickly.

The woman reached under her chair and picked the phone up with a broad, glowing smile. Her dark blonde hair fell around her shoulders in gorgeous waves and a wide brim hat rested on the top of it. Her gray blue eyes stared up at him in amusement. She was the kind of woman any man would want attention from. The main feature of a hundred men's wet dreams. When she spoke, her voice was melodic and hypnotizing, "No worries. Accidents happen."

Rumlow took his phone from her hand, tapped it against his hand, then motioned to the target, "You're American as well?"

"Busted." Aubrey Joan Bradshaw held her hands up with a small, musical laugh, "I'm on vacation here with my husband. Greece was our dream location."

"There's no place better." Rumlow chuckled in agreement. He pointed to the empty seat, "May I sit for a moment?" Aubrey cheerfully agreed and he sat down across from her. Rumlow set his hand on the table, drumming his fingers as he spoke, "How long are you in the area for?"

She shrugged and her white sundress slipped off her shoulder revealing her sun-tanned skin. Rumlow's licked his lips and he couldn't resist letting his eyes trace the curve of her shoulder. Fuck, she was hot. There would be time on the jet while getting to Strucker where he'd have a minute to himself. Maybe he could feel for himself how soft that skin really was. He realized he hadn't been listening to her talk and zoned back in, "...maybe another week? We might prolong our vacation again."

"You already have once?" Rumlow asked, feigning interest, "Can't get enough?"

"We really can't. It's just so pretty here." Aubrey took a sip of her coffee then nodded, "Where are you from?"

"New York City."

Aubrey's smile faltered for a second, "Oh. I have a sister who lives up there. We're from Alabama, but she went up there for college... I guess she fell in love with the city."

"It's very easy to." Rumlow replied distractedly. His eyes had followed the curve of her shoulder, up her slender neck, and to her lips. He cleared his throat, "Do you get to visit her often?"

"I haven't seen her in a very long time unfortunately. I'd like to though."

"What a shame." Rumlow hummed.

"It is I—" Aubrey shifted and the purse that had been in her lap fell to the ground. Rumlow felt a tube of lipstick roll into his foot. She laughed, "Now it looks like I'm the klutz. I'm so sorry."

Rumlow smirked, "Allow me to repay your favor."

He knelt over to quickly scoop up the few items that had fallen out. Rumlow let his gaze wander to her bare legs, but when he got to her lap he stiffened in annoyance. Her hand rested in her lap, gripping tightly to a handgun that was aimed directly at his abdomen. Rumlow's jaw clenched in aggravation and he slowly sat back up with a leveled glare. He had let himself get distracted by a pretty face. Rumlow scoffed and set his hands on the table so the bitch wouldn't get spooked and prematurely pull the trigger.

Aubrey's smile had faded to a frown, but he saw no fire in her eyes. Just fear. She leaned forward a degree and though she tried to be intimidating her voice still wavered, "I hear you're looking to see my sister too. Now, why the hell is that?"

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Aj Bradshaw and others shall return to Wattpad in the sequel titled: 'Not That Special'.

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