Budapest » [Clintasha]

Chapter Twenty-Four: Infidelity

I waded into the room, without inhibitions; praying that I'd find James inside after what felt like months.

And was stopped in my tracks instantly.

As I barged in, and the light gushed from the corridor behind me, the most hideous of sights was revealed: two people were tangled on the bed, a mess of limbs and skin shining with sweat.

James was braced over another woman in the bed, her legs curled around his waist and he was pugilistically rutting into her. I heard the woman's whimper under him, and over his shoulder, knotted with muscle; Yelena gave me a cloudy-eyed grin.

She'd finally resurfaced like a bad penny. And after I stitched her up with a brainwashing, the worst hell she could imagine, she'd tapped into my very own worst hell. And she'd made it a reality. Her grin was smug, and she made fucked-out gasps all the while.

"Baby, yes!" She screamed whorishly and buried her face in the crook of his neck.

In response he gave a guttural moan and snapped his hips harder into her. And she writhed with pleasure.

I simply turned on my heel, snagging the door closed as I twisted away, and sprinted back to my room.

There was nothing I could do to stop the waterfalls gushing from my eyes. The last good thing in my life had turned rotten. I sobbed obtrusively and I could hear my snivelling in the enclosed space. I pounded the path back to my quarters as fast as I could manage, my legs quivering with the shock.

When I got back to my room, I could barely swipe my keycard across the scanner to let myself in my hands were shaking so much. Once in, I slammed the door with enough force to put a hairline fracture the doorframe and I threw myself on the bed.

Cuddling my pillow to my chest, I breathed out the anguish and the bereavement and the grief. My chest was heaving convulsively and my sight was blurred entirely by the stream of tears.

I didn't restrain myself. I curled up like a child, hugging my pillow like it was my only companion - which it seemed to be - and pressed my face into it. The pillowcase quick became damp with the fruits of my despair and my mewls and hiccups seemed to be muffled for the most part by the sack of clumpy foam.

I cried until I was exhausted and my eyes forced themselves shut.

When I awoke the next morning, I tried to wish it all away, pretend it was a nightmare. But unfortunately that wasn't my brutal reality.

But now the sadness had drained away with my tears, what remained in its place like sediment to an empty river, was rage. Frothing rage.

Of all the horrendous things I'd combated: a hundred lashings marring my bare back, being forced to kill in cold blood and being wiped entirely of my identity - I was not going to let a man, of all things, be my downfall. Disloyalty was something I could overcome.

But James was the final proof that men of his sort: with lustful eyes, a smooth talking tongue and a pair of explorative hands, were not to be trusted. I should've expected nothing less. He was of the same ilk as the men I manipulated for my day job; and I would treat him as nothing more.

When I left that day, I made sure I was pristine as ever. Every wrinkle in my catsuit was smoothed, not a single fleck of hair was out of line and I plastered my face with the makeup that had become my warpaint.

It was only a matter of time until we crossed paths, and it happened to be on the way to debriefing. He trudged alongside me without saying a word, ambling at an amicable pace. The moment no one else was looking, and we passed an intersection, I shoved him down it and pinned him to a wall.

There was a flash of shock across his face and then a coshed a hand across his cheek. The sound of skin slapping skin rung out and his head reared off with a flick. He winced, his cheek rouging with the print of my hand.

"You treacherous bastard!" I hissed, tears of rage broiling in my eyes. "I trusted you!" My voice wavered with lividnesss. "I was loyal! I was nothing but good to you! And you were never there!" I felt white hot tears draw lines down my cheeks.. "I did everything for you, risking my rights by sneaking around after curfew, risking my head by fraternising with a comrade!" I ground my jaw, sniffing with vengeful anger "And you do this?!" A laugh of complete derision escaped my lips. "You sleep with her of all people!" My fists furled tighter. "I loved you!" I admitted, my voice losing its razor sharp edge.

There was a flicker of confusion in his eyes before he reacted. "Get away from me you crazy bitch!" He spat, shoving me back by my shoulder until my back hit the concrete wall the other side of the corridor. "I don't know what you're on about or who the fuck you think you are!"

"But you- you..." Tears were rolling down my cheeks at an unstoppable pace and the wounds he had left me with felt so raw. The anger that simmered within me was a brewing so violently that I lost the ability to articulate.

"I, what?" His eyes searched my face, so much confusion drowning his features.

God knew how he denied it all, pretended it didn't happen, lied to my very face. The kind of audacity he must have to pretend he didn't know what I was talking about.

"You took my virginity!" I lowered my voice into a whispered scream. "You were the first man I ever loved!" I admitted it, my throat scratchy. "I would have done anything for you." I gave up on my thick-skinned pretences and cried.

"I don't know what you or of any of the things you're accusing me of. Now let me be on my way-"

With a final surge of piping hot vengeance, I pulled back my hand and went for a full swing.

He caught my swinging palm with one hand and his metal hand seized me by the throat. His steely blue eyes went stormy and his jaw was gritting with hatefulness. He walked me back to the wall and pinned me to it by the throat. The tips of his metal fingers kissed the wall, and I could feel the metal plating eating into my skin. I could feel the bruises forming beneath my skin and he wrung the life out of me.

"If you know what's good for you..." He looked me dead in the eyes, not a single shred of humour in them. "...You won't ever talk to me again..." He curled his fingers tighter and I could have sworn I felt the bones in my neck flex and creak. "You'll learn to respect me, as your senior officer-" I started hacking and coughing around his hand as the last air reserves in my lungs drained from me. "And you won't lay a single finger on me." I gasped and guttered, my hands frantically trying to prize his automaton one off of me. "Do you understand?" He grunted at me, his fingers squeezing tighter.

I nodded liberally, seeing that as my only way out.

And with my assent, he dropped me to the floor like a ruined ragdoll, clutching at my bruised neck, trying to massage the life back into the skin.

Then he stalked away, as casually as ever, as if his every feeling had been wiped out from him.

A/N - *Screeches* Sunday is update day!

So James returned. And he can't remember a damn thing. It's a shame he was never open with Natasha about the brainwashing. Remember, a good healthy relationship isn't built on secrets, sex alone and desperation.

Dedication goes to narglezz! x

If you haven't had a dedication yet and you would like one, please don't be shy and ask; I'm struggling to keep track of who I've done and who I haven't!