Glass [James Bucky Barnes]

Chapter XIII

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Soft music was playing in the background, the clinking of the glasses ringed in James' ears.
Steve was staring at his empty glass when the phone in his pocket went off.
James gazed at him, a brow lifted in a question.
"It's your security alarm." Steve said, unlocking his phone.
He frowned, leaning closer to peak over Steve's shoulder. "Something wrong?"
"I don't know, it sent me a notification that someone tried to open a locked door but from the inside." Steve hummed, trying to figure out what it meant.
"When?" James asked, gesturing to the screen.
Steve checked the time. "A few minutes ago."
"Which door?"
"The front door."
James thought about it for a few seconds, starting to feel suspicious. "What about the cameras?"
Steve opened his mouth to say something, but words died in his throat. "Uh... Ah, that's weird."
"What?" James's tone grew more impatient. "What's weird?"
"I didn't get a notification for this..." Steve trailed off, staring at the phone.
Tension was thickening between the two men. "What's going on, Steve?"
Steve cleared his throat. "The power went out. The cameras are out too. The alarm is still partially working thanks to its battery."
James jumped to his feet, took his phone, and walked to the exit. "Call Teresa. I'll check in with Smith. He would have told me if something was wrong."

The call went through, but after a few rings, the line went dead. Smith wasn't picking up.
Steve came out of the pub, his phone still in his hand. "It went straight to the voicemail."
It could have been a coincidence, but James couldn't afford to take any chances.
"I'm going to check." He headed to the car parked a few feet away, fumbling with the keys.
Steve quickly followed. "Wait, what about Lehman?" He asked, getting in the passenger's seat.
He didn't answer, his eyes locked on the road. James started the car, merging into the traffic.
If there was even the slightest chance that something had happened to Teresa or Ivy he was never going to forgive himself.
James stayed away from the only family he had left to avoid involving her in his life.
He didn't force himself away just to reck this shit onto her.
"Should we try Ivy?" Steve probed.
He sighed, cursing himself. He should have known better. "She doesn't have a phone." He was supposed to keep her safe, and the thought of having failed made his stomach turn. It was his fault.
He put her in danger in the first place, failing to keep his mission casualties-free.
"Can you bring the system back online?" James asked.
Steve shook his head, gazing at him. "No, not with the power off."
James' jaw tightened, his knuckles turning white on the steering wheel.

****

The stale air in the room was suffocating, heavy with a musty smell.
Ivy started to slowly recover her senses, her head throbbing.
A sharp pain spread in her head as she opened her eyes, like nails were being pushed through her skull.
She tried to move her arms, but a clanging revealed chains around her wrists.
A wave of panic made her eyes snap open, finding herself in an empty room.
Yellowish mold-stained walls, no windows.
It looked like a concrete cube.
There was a faint light hanging from the ceiling, buzzing with electricity. It wasn't enough to light up the whole room.
A single chair was pushed against the wall on her left.
The door in front of her opened. Ivy squinted, struggling to see the man coming in.
Her heart seemed to stop. "What... what's going on?"
The same man that was supposed to keep her safe was standing in front of her, his face firm as a stone, not showing any emotion.
He didn't acknowledge her, instead, he headed to her left.
She could hear the chair feet scratching on the dirty tiles, making her head hurt even more.
The man positioned the chair in front of her, sitting on it. "Where's the crown?"
Ivy stared at him blankly, taken aback by his question. "What?"
Smith's nostrils flared, clasping his hands together.
He leaned forward. "I don't have time to waste. Tell me where the jewels are, and we can be done with this." He seethed.
Ivy frowned, shaking her head. "I don't know what you're talking about." She croaked.

In an instant Smith stood up abruptly, his hand closing around Ivy's throat, dragging her up to her feet and pushing her against the wall.
Blood rushed to her chest, her nails digging into the skin of Smith's hand.
Suddenly something became clear as the air started lacking from her lungs. She was going to die.
The man kept his face close to hers, his warm breath tickling her skin.
Ivy kept struggling, fear veiling her eyes with tears. I don't want to die.
She kept repeating to herself, in a desperate attempt to keep her mind from slipping away.
The grip around her throat got loose, air flowing again, allowing her lungs to expand.
She gasped for air, her hand wandering on the tender skin of her neck.
"You'll talk. One way or another." He said, an eerie calmness in his voice.
Smith left the room, locking the door behind him.

****

James parked right in front of the house, rushing to the front door.
He found it closed, but not locked. "Teresa? Ivy?" He called out, entering the house.
Steve followed him, his gun drawn. "Where's the security?"
"The cars are gone." James pulled out his gun, and stepped to the staircase, peeking at the hallway.
He pointed at the kitchen, motioning at Steve to go check there.
The house was completely silent.
James checked Ivy's room, finding it empty. Only a book left on her bed.
He moved to the room at the end of the hallway, Teresa's.
"Ma? Are you in there?" No one answered back, he went in.
He checked the room, making sure to not leave out the bathroom, but no one was in there.
"James!" Steve's voice echoed from downstairs.
James' feet moved quickly, following Steve's voice.
When he arrived in the kitchen he found Teresa seated in a chair, frantically trying to talk to Steve.
"I don't speak Spanish. I don't understand what she's saying." He said, struggling to keep her calm.
James rushed to them. "Hey, hey," He knelt in front of the woman, grabbing her hand. "It's ok. Are you hurt?"
"Ellos la cogieron! Los vi!" She creid out, her face ashen.
James frowned. "What are you talking about? Who took her?"
"Fu el!" She insisted.
"Quien es el? Who is he, Teresa?" At this point, he was sure she was talking about Ivy, but he needed more details.
"El hombre que contrataste. He pushed me into the pantry and locked the door."
His eyes darted to Steve. "Smith." He breathed, clenching his fist.
"Where's George?" He asked, looking around.
Teresa damped her forehead with a tissue, quietly talking to herself. "He went to his sister yesterday, he didn't feel good."
"Alright, I'm going to need you to stay with your daughter for a while." He said, nodding at her.
Steve's brows drew together with concern. "What is going on, James? Who were those men? What did they do to Ivy? I heard her screaming." Teresa asked, her voice breaking.
He helped her stand up, walking her to the front door. "I'll take care of this."

Teresa planted her feet, turning around. "Men came into my house, James. They took that girl! We should call the police."
He rolled his eyes, inhaling deeply through his nose. Getting mad at her was the last thing he wanted. "If we call the police, she dies."
"Dios mio..." She whispered, a hand pressed against her chest.
"Steve will drive you to Miranda." He said, guiding her into the driveway.
"Vale. But James-" She turned to look at him. "You'll be careful." Her index poked his chest.
A smile formed on his lips. "Sure."
James watched as the car drove away, waiting for them to be gone before grabbing his phone.
After a few rings, a voice answered his call. "I think I may be compromised." He said, his gaze fixed on the cloudy sky.
"What do you need, Barnes?" The man on the other side of the phone sighed.
"Same as last time, Tony." James replied, going back into the house.
"You're running out of favors, you know that?" Tony scoffed, voices buzzing in the background as he spoke.
"I'll make it up to you."

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A/N hello everyone! I Hope your week started well.
Here's the new chapter, see you next week!
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