addicted | BUCKY BARNES 18+

3. forwards

"No, it's back and forth, did I say something wrong?

It's back and forth, goin' over everything I said..."

——
C H A P T E R T H R E E
forwards
——

The roads were mostly clear as she drove home. By the time Goldie left the diner it was around 1am. After her short conversation with Steve's (extremely good looking) friend, Bucky, she decided it was time to head home and hope for the best that her father was still away.

The past week had been her best week of her entire year.

When her mom left things got bad, this was no surprise to her friends. She started drinking too much, entered a toxic relationship, but her friends helped her. She got out of it.

But her dad didn't.

Her father constantly got worse, so bad that Goldie feared to ever be around him. She tried to avoid the house as much as she could, but what she arrived home late and he was aware of her being there, things could get bad.

When she arrived home and pulled into the driveway, she hadn't noticed the lights turned on in the house. But when she went to unlock the door and the door was already opened like it had been a week ago, her stomach dropped.

She stepped in, anxious to get up to her bedroom and away from him, so eager to get away that she forgot about the creaky floorboards she already tried to avoid.

"Who's there?" A gruff voice came from another room, the study.

Goldies eyes screwed shut, her heart beating faster and faster in her chest.

"Just... Just me, Dad." She replied shakily, gripping her guitar case strap so tight that her knuckles turned white.

She quickly laid her guitar case on the bottom step of the stairs, hopefully out of view from her father who's footsteps could be heard drawing closer and closer.

"What are you doing?" He snapped, close enough that Goldie could smell the alcohol dripping off his breath.

"I was just out-" She replied quickly.

Her father gripped her wrist tightly and shoved her to the side, causing hard impact to the wall next to her, as he looked out the window, searching for someone, or a car to see if she was with anyone.

She always found many things about her father intimidating, but when he gripped her arm, his sleeve rolled up slightly, making the octopus tattoo on his wrist visible which she always found slightly more frightening than anything else about him growing up.

"Who were you with?" He commanded, a tight grip still on her arm.

She tried to pull free from his grasp, but his large, rough hand just gripped her even tighter.

She found herself being backed up against the wall, her father still oblivious to the guitar on the stairs.

To say he was disapproving of her music career was an understatement.

"Wanda, I was with Wanda." She replied, her arm still yet to be released from his hand.

She felt herself being yanked away from the wall again, pushed in the opposite direction to the other side of the hallway.