Content warnings: Death, killing, beating, mentions of sex and drugs.
Sound of breaking bone echoed through the empty warehouse as James fist made contact with the guys face for the hundredth time. He had his sleeves rolled up exposing his veiny forearms covered in tattoos.''You think you can steal from me and I won't find out?!'' He shouted in the guys face. His eyes manic with rage.
No one undermines James Barnes.
The skinny man tied to a chair by zip ties was almost limp against his restraints. Thick blood dripping from his mouth into his lap. His eyes were swollen and blue. He tries to mumble something but it's completely incoherent as his jaw is most likely broken. James punches him again so hard that the skin rips open splattering blood everywhere, all over James face and his clothes. Bucky steps back and groans in disgust.
''This was my favourite shirt you fucking asshole'' He says through gritted teeth. He booted the limp man straight in the face with his heel. The limp body tumbling backwards with the chair, making a hollow echo through the warehouse. ''Not gonna steal from me again are you?!'' James grunts again, walking round to kick repeatedly into the guy's stomach. The man was no longer making any noises and his limp body was flailing on the floor with each kick.
''Buck... I think he's pretty dead'' Steve says from the corner of the warehouse looking at his nails in a ridiculously expensive light grey suit, no tie, first three buttons of his shirt unbuttoned. His voice is flat, used to whatever this is.
James' manic eyes shoot towards his best friend and he frowns. ''Shame, I was just getting into it'' He spits on the dead body on the floor and straightens out. His heartbeat was thrashing against his chest, he sighs as he feels the adrenaline pump through his veins. He reaches over to a crate where his suit jacket is and a towel, grabbing it to wipe his blood covered face. The white shirt he's wearing, clinging to the ripples of his sweaty muscles.
It might have been a waste to wear a suit this morning. It's not like he didn't know how it was going to end. Couple days ago he found out that someone had been sneaking cocaine out of his shipments and selling it off.
Let's say that has pissed him off.
Steve almost laughs at Bucks comment and walks over with a packet of cigarettes, handing him one. James reaches into his pocket of the navy suit trousers and pulls out a lighter, lighting both of their cigarettes. They made their way outside the warehouse. It was around 5am in the morning and the sun had barely touched the edges of the horizon. The sky was covered with dark clouds threatening to let heavens open any moment. Autumn in New York was always like that. James finds the cool air comforting against his heated skin, especially after his extraneous exercise of using a human punch bag. He leans against his fully blacked out Lamborghini as he smokes. Two men carrying buckets and cellophane rolled up over their shoulder rush into the warehouse ready to clean up whatever mess he has caused in there.
''Gonna hunt all those scums down..'' He scoffs.
''They gotta be pretty stupid to steal from you in the first place'' Steve says as he pulls his phone out after it pinged.
''As if they never learn'' He turns his attention to the phone in Steves hand.
''Stark said he is getting his last delivery from the current supplier tomorrow. '' Steve reads the email from his phone.
''Im intrigued to know who has been supplying him with all that. In my city under my nose'' James frowns as he stumps out the cigarette in his Gucci shoes.
''I can attempt to do more digging, but Tony is awfully quiet about who is supplying him with guns'' Steve raises an eyebrow.
''But yet he wants me to supply it from now on. Why?'' Bucky runs his fingers through his dark hair. Perfectly shaved at the sides, with longer bits at the top. His beard trimmed to a mere five o'clock shadow, accentuating his sharp jawline and cheeks. He's known about secondary supplier for a while, his mind working overtime wondering who could be running such a big operation under his nose all this time. New York is his city and he will not let a rookie undermine him like that. You don't do dirty work without Bucky knowing. ''Maybe we should pay him a visit and find out?'' Wicked grin spreads on his face.
''We've had a working relationship with Tony for a long time, I'm sure he will tell you without you needing to beat him to a pulp. Plus he's useful'' Steve says as he does the same to his cigarette as James. ''Im gonna head back to the office'' He motions.
''I'll meet you there in a couple of hours. Probably shouldn't walk around the city covered in blood'' James laughs.
''Gotcha'' Steve said as he got into his Mercedes G63. He preferred his beefed up SUVs over the low and noisy supercars.
Steve grew up with Bucky, their parents were friends before the two were even born. Friends since childhood, and Steve always follows James around like a lost puppy. He never enjoyed the flash lifestyle they were forced to live.
James was not this subtle, the flashy lifestyle suited him. He was known as the womaniser, always seen with a different girl on his arm, never the same one twice. Usually some socialite that lives off their daddies money. James inherited his money from his fathers company. When he overtook the company at the mere age of twenty-two it was just a logistics company. One of the largest in the United States, but that didn't stop James from expanding it over the past fourteen years of him running it. Barnes Inc runs globally now, on the side now he is heavily involved in development of new structures in New York . One of his huge passions. His work is his life, therefore his passion needs to be part of work. When he overtook his fathers company it was on a brink of bankruptcy. No one knew, not even James. He was balls deep in debt. He clawed his way out of it without anyone ever knowing that. To achieve that he got heavily involved in the mafia, he beat people, he killed, sold and bought what he needed to make it to the top. Now New York was under his thumb and that's where he was planning on keeping it.
At the end of the day you don't make that much money by delivering trucks.
Bucky weaved his way through the busy streets in his black Lambo, finally making it to his house. It was huge, very modern with big glass panes making up most of the walls instead of bricks. His own design, and that's why he set his permanent residence here. The underground garage was the whole floor-plan of the house and had endless rows of cars. He parked up, went upstairs to take a quick shower and got changed to another suit. This time it was black, he loved wearing black suits. He fixed his tie, put some gel in his hair and hopped back into the Lambo to speed towards Stark Towers.
Tony sat on his swivel chair working on some sort of contraption that James wasn't sure he even wanted him to explain. His office, if you could even call that an office, was multiple levels underground, heavily secluded and guarded. He was building illegal guns for the government and US army. It was obviously a secret - well to most anyway.
''So Tony...'' Bucky started, leaning one of his legs on Tonys desk and picking up a Rubik's cube and starting twiddling with it.
''Its never good news when you start with that James'' Tony says looking up from his contraption. ''What is it you want to know?'' He says as he takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes. They seemed red and overworked. The man was a workaholic just like James Barnes himself.
''Stevie mentioned that you will be using my gun services from next week'' He curses as the colours don't line up on the cube.
''Yes, I fancied a change in my supplier'' Tony said leaning back in his chair.
''Who has been supplying you up till now?'' Straight to the point. James doesn't beat around the bush.
''Oh all knowing James Barnes has let someone slip under his radar? '' Tony laughs as he pulls on his goatee. Salt and pepper hair showing his age a lot more than maybe he would have liked.
James slams the cube down on the metal desk, partially out of how frustrating the cube was with all the colours not lining up, and partially because he doesn't enjoy being mocked. ''Don't take the piss Tony. I want to know who you've been working with behind my back'' He says through gritted teeth, the mania in his eyes evident. Anger management skills might not be high on the skill set.
'' No need for ample threats'' Tony mutters as he reaches into the first drawer of his desk and pulls out a light brown folder. It's not very thick and Tony holds it out handing it to James. ''I have plans to get rid of her completely, but the time is not right''
James takes the folder from Tony and quickly flicks through it. ''Her?'' He asks with an amusement in his voice. His eyes filtered through sparse information. Doesn't seem to hold anything concrete, apart from some information about the current companies she owns. Doesn't mention the origins of her sources either. ''I'm not sure this is worth my time'' He frowns at the lack of information.
''There isn't much on her, but that also means she's nothing to worry about. Yet...'' Tony leans on his elbows looking up at James. ''Plus you better not run late on my shipments. I have strict deadlines, I don't want to piss off the military''
''Im always on time Tony'' James closes the folder, losing interest in it already.
James said his goodbyes to Tony. Somehow feeling flat from their conversation. He wanted an exciting new rival, he wanted to rough up some feathers, but it didn't peak his interest, not even the slightest. He wondered if the adrenaline from this morning is still lingering in his bloodstream, somehow it never feels enough. His highs are just not high enough. Is he becoming numb to all this? He decided not to question his whole existence just because he didn't find something interesting. He made his way back to Barnes Towers where his office was based, the brown folder discarded in his car. Walking through the main door he was let in straight away and greeted by the many guards that scattered the place. He headed straight for the lift, pressing the button for the top floor. The lift takes him to the top in no time at all. He discarded his suit jacket on the sofa he had in his office, undoing his tie he poured himself a whiskey. Time already said 3pm and James already felt exhausted with the amount of work he had to do.
He took a moment to look out the window of his office, it was totally pouring making all the lights in New York all hazy. He felt on top of the world, but empty. The city lights, guns, murder or even sex no longer exited him. He was thirty-six years old, living the high life all his existence. Somehow it all seems for nothing, and yet he's unable to let go of the control. He thrives on it. He fucks on it.
One day it'll be the death of him.
And he might just be okay with it.