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shy-violet-soul · 10 months

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His Inheritance ~ Chapter 30

Part 30: Illusions

Series Masterlist

Words: 4.4k

Pairing: Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader

Warnings: References to mob crime families, reference to being a shooting victim, references to sexual violence. Strong language, betrayal, more than one character being in physical peril. This is a dark fic. Please read responsibly.

Disclaimer: The author of this work claims no ownership of characters aside from the reader, and original secondary characters mentioned. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and darker themes. By reading this work or any works on my blog (jtargaryen18), you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work hosted on any third party app or site. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but archiveofourown and tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission.

Summary: For @alexakeyloveloki. Your father is the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Boston but he’s protected you from that life. In your quiet home outside the city, you’ve been cared for and protected. When the desires of a more powerful man with the will to dominate bursts into your life, all your illusions are shattered as he comes to claim what is his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“There she is,” you heard her whisper.

Your eyes felt heavy when you slit them open. Your vision was blurry, and your mouth was dry. You tried to sit up and that’s when sharp pain reminded you of what happened.

“Stop,” Yelena said gently. “You’ll reopen your wound if you’re not careful.”

The concern in her hazel eyes reminded you of what happened. Blurry memories flashed in your mind of being in Hansen’s house. Neal. Dyson’s friends. Jensen. Dyson. Steve…

“Steve,” you asked, panicked. Your husband took a bullet for you. Well, he took the brunt of it.

Yelena lifted a glass of water from the bedside table. You were in the bedroom you shared with Steve. But you didn’t see anyone but Yelena there.

“He’s going to be okay,” she told you with a smile, holding the glass so you could take a sip.

“He was shot.” Your voice sounded groggy.

“So were you,” she pointed out.

It hurt like hell. You lifted a hand to your shoulder, feeling the dressing under the nightgown you wore.

“Fucking hurts,” you mumbled. “Hansen must be so happy... Bastard.”

That had Yelena smiling. “That’s your exit wound. It could have been a lot worse. It was a .45 caliber bullet. If it had just hit you, it would have done a lot of damage.”

That just meant it did a lot of damage to Steve.

“Did Hansen survive?” You were really hoping he didn’t.

Yelena sighed. “I’m not sure. When he shot you and Steve, it sent everyone into a panic. Hansen’s men faced off against Clay and Jensen so he could slip out, but he was hit. Word on the street is that Hansen’s dead, but I don’t believe it.”

“Where’s Dyson?” you asked.

“Waiting for the doctor to finish with Steve,” she told you. “He’s fretting over both of you like a mother hen.”

You blew out an exhale. “Is Steve really going to be okay?”

Her smile faded. “I think so. We’ll know soon enough. You were very lucky. The bullet barely missed your lung. You’ll have a scar, but you will recover.”

“Will Steve recover?” Guilt clouded your mind, blocking out everything else. “It was my fault he got shot.”

What if Steve died? What if it impacted the rest of his life? Would he forgive you?

“Try not to worry,” she told you. “The doctor is very good. He took very good care of you.”

“Me?” Again, you tried to sit up, but Yelena urged you to be still. The stabbing pain in your shoulder was breathtaking. “Why did he take care of me first? He should have taken care of Steve. He should have—”

“Steve wouldn’t have it,” Yelena explained. “He was only worried about you.”

And it was your fault you both got shot. Tears came on then.

“Were your friends okay?” You had to ask. “Jensen?”

“They’re okay,” she assured you.

“What about Clint?” you asked, panicking as you remembered more. “Have we heard from him?”

“Clint’s okay,” a familiar voice said from the doorway of your bedroom. Clint looked beat up, but he made it. “Nat! She’s awake.”

Nat scrambled into the bedroom, dashing to your bed. She might have hugged you if Yelena hadn’t caught her.

“She has to be careful with the stitches,” Yelena said gently.

Nat’s green eyes were glassy with tears. “I can’t believe you got shot.”

She hugged you so carefully.

“I can’t either,” you told her. “Where’s Scott?”

“Scott went to pick up Yelena’s things,” Clint said from where he stood at the foot of your bed. “He’s good.”

That meant Yelena was moving back into your home. Good.

“He’s not alone, is he?” You had to know.

Clint shook his head. "He’s got a few of our guys watching his back.”

With Nat’s help, Yelena used pillows to prop you up in the bed. The movements hurt but you could handle it. Your gaze took in all their worried faces. All you could think about was Steve.

“Clint!” Someone, you thought it was Dyson, called from down the hall.

Clint hurried off and intuition had your stomach dropping.

“When will we know about Steve?” you asked, hoping maybe Nat knew something.

You saw your own worry reflected in her green eyes. She smiled but it didn’t reach those eyes.

“Don’t worry about that right now,” Nat said. “You need to rest.”

No, you needed to know how your husband was.

They stayed with you, talking quietly. Clint had been lucky in that a couple of Dyson’s friends showed up to help him when he was surrounded by Barnes’ men. There had been a massive shootout before the cops showed up, giving Clint the chance he needed to get out of there.

Nat chatted on excitedly, retelling Clint’s tale. Groggy as your mind was from being put under, it took you a minute to realize Nat hadn’t said a thing about Bruce Banner. You had been about to ask about Banner, but you caught yourself, thinking better of it. Nat was still in a fragile place. Maybe nothing happened. Maybe something did. It wasn’t in her best interest to even think about Banner right now.

Clint returned a few minutes later, his expression changed. You thought you could read Clint somewhat but right now? It looked like one hell of a poker face.

Dyson followed him in, his gaze on you. So much emotion swirled in his eyes as he approached your bedside and Nat let him have her seat at your side. Dyson leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead, his eyes were glassy, red.

Something was wrong. It sent a spike of panic through your heart.

“I’m so glad you’re alright,” Dyson said with such emotion in his voice. “You shaved a few years off this old man’s life.”

You tried to smile.

Dyson took your hand carefully in his. “I love you too, but don’t you ever do something like that again. I’m supposed to take a bullet for you, not the other way around.”

You’d expected him to say something like that. If you’d been the only one shot, you’d have been fine. It would have been worth it. Aside from the bruises on his face from his none-too-gentle handling from Hansen and Neal, Dyson looked beaten up but mostly unharmed. Not shot.

The problem was your efforts had prompted Steve to protect you.

“Hey, Nat,” Clint said carefully. “Why don’t you get in bed? It’s late and you’ve had a rough day. Come on.”

Oh no. Your heart began to ache as you nodded at Nat, told her you’d be alright. Clint led her out of your bedroom. In the doorway, he paused. The poignant look he cut you before walking away had fear rioting in your chest.

Fear had even crept into Yelena’s expression.

“Dyson,” you whispered. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Dyson blew out an exhale, seemed to be working up the courage to say what he came to say.

“Tell me.” Desperation bled on your tone. “How is Steve?”

Dyson sighed. “The surgery went well,” he said slowly. “Doc was able to deal with most of the damage. But Steve… bled a lot. He lost a lot of blood.”

Oh my God. Panic had you trying to get out of bed. You needed to see him. Now.

“Is he alive?” you asked tearfully, your breath coming fast.

Dyson nodded, his gaze fixed on you. “He’s alive… But he’s in a coma right now.”

It took both Dyson and Yelena to keep you in bed, the pain be damned. The pain felt distant, not nearly as bad as the ache in your heart. The guilt…

“He’s strong,” Dyson leaned closer as he held you there. “He’s young. Doc says he might snap out of it any time.”

Might wasn’t good enough. Might wasn’t nearly good enough.

Again, you scrambled on the bed and again, they got a grip on you. That’s when the tears came on.

“Please,” you begged. “I have to see him. I have to talk to him. If I—”

“You will,” Yelena assured you. “But not right now.”

“Yes, right now!” you yelled.

Your gaze moved to Dyson just in time to see the syringe in his other hand. Regret stained his expression as he slid the needle into your upper arm, administering its contents into your bloodstream. The sedative had the world slipping away from you by the second as you fought…

***

It was so quiet in Luca’s kitchen. Yelena sat at that small wooden table next to Dyson, so tired it was hard to keep her eyes open. Dyson hadn’t really touched the cup of black coffee Luca put in front of him. Well, Scott hadn’t touched his either. Clint, like her, had waved it away. He’d been the last to join them in the quiet of the kitchen.

It wasn’t lost on her that usually, they were all in good spirits here. Usually, they told tall tales about life in the Rogers’ family, or they had a poker game going. And now?

Now it felt like their entire world had been upended.

Only Luca was still standing, leaning against the counter with his beefy arms folded across his chest and his gaze on the floor.

“How is Nat?” Yelena had to ask, catching Clint’s gaze.

Clint shook his head. “No damn good. She’s still having nightmares about Banner and then all this shit happened.”

“Does she know Banner is dead?” Yelena asked.

“No,” Clint said. “Not a good time. She’s already terrified from what happened tonight.”

Yelena respected his decision.

“She asleep?” Dyson asked.

Clint nodded. “I got her to take a Valium. At least she’ll sleep for a little while.”

Yelena blew out an exhale. You were a different story. And she wasn’t looking forward to when the sedative wore off. She knew you were scared and blaming yourself for what happened.

“I’m just going to go ahead and say it,” Luca said. “Barnes has been handing us our asses since the boss got married and we’re damned lucky that today didn’t go a hell of a lot worse. Hansen got his hands on Dyson. Mrs. Rogers got shot and the boss…”

Dyson nodded silently where he sat.

“Barnes has been one step ahead of us the entire fucking time and Steve?” Luca scrubbed a hand over his face. “Steve was a force to be reckoned with before he got married.”

Wait. What?

“Please tell me you’re not blaming Mrs. Rogers for all this,” Yelena pleaded, more than ready to defend you.

“Not her fault… directly,” Luca explained. “She got in his head. But he has to have better control than that when it comes to the business. He can’t allow anything to get him so turned around that he starts making bad decisions. And he’s made nothing but bad decisions since he got married.”

“It was more than that,” Dyson finally spoke up. “He didn’t marry her until after her father died. And while her father was alive, he was Steve’s mentor. He guided him, helped him think things through when it came to leading the families.”

Dyson rose from his chair and walked around the table to get to the fridge, pulling out a beer.

“Barnes saw through it,” Dyson went on. “Barnes is a sharp one, always was. He didn’t let the old boss get cold in his grave before he started pushing buttons.”

“Where does that leave us?” Luca asked. “There’s blood in the water. Barnes ain’t backing off now.”

“No, he’s not,” Dyson replied.

“And Steve’s father-in-law is gone,” Luca went on. “If having a mentor is the only way he was going to pull this off, we’re fucked.”

Dyson paused, putting his beer on the table, unopened. Yelena knew that look on his face. He’d thought of something.

“Maybe we’re not,” he said as thoughts ran through his head. She could almost see them.

“What?” Luca threw his hands up. “The old man is dead.”

“But he’s not entirely gone,” Dyson said, meeting Yelena’s gaze. And it was at that moment that she knew where this was going.

Luca looked lost. “What are you saying?”

“We have his kid,” Dyson said it out loud. “We have his daughter. She’s as sharp as her father ever was.”

Scott’s eyes lit up, catching on. He nodded.

“Hey,” Luca drew their attention to him. “Maybe you’re right. She might even be sharper than her old man. But she can’t take over. No family is going to accept her lead. You know that.”

“I do know that,” Dyson said.

“Steve would never accept that either,” Luca went on.

“Right now Steve can’t give us his opinion,” Dyson pointed out. “He’s in a comma. God willing, he’ll come out of it. But no one outside the family can know about his condition. Barnes will finish us if he finds out.”

That had everyone pausing.

“What are you saying?” Clint asked, looking very invested in the discussion now.

“Everyone outside this room, and Nat, have to believe that Steve is still holding the reins,” Dyson told them gravely. “And until he’s awake, someone has to call the shots.”

“No.” Luca shook his head. “She’s got a good head on her shoulders but leading a mob family? Leading five mob families?”

“She was right about Neal, wasn’t she?” Dyson stressed. “She’s got her old man’s instincts. You’ve said it yourself. We can give her the circumstances. She doesn’t have to know the business. We do. We lay it all out for her and she makes the calls.”

“If we’re doing all that,” Luca said, “why don’t me and you make the calls?”

“If you or me were qualified to lead a family, we wouldn’t be here,” Dyson said. “But you’re a cook and I’m an enforcer. But her?” Dyson pointed upstairs. “She’s our best shot at this. She’s how we pull this off.”

“How do we know she’ll want to do it?” Clint threw in. “That’s a huge responsibility.”

“She hasn’t backed down from anything yet, has she?” Scott asked.

Yelena smiled at him. Scott was right.

“She’ll do it.” Yelena knew she would. “She feels responsible for Steve’s injury. She’ll do anything she can to help for that reason.”

“She will,” Dyson told them. ”If Steve doesn’t wake up, the Rogers family is done for. If and when he does wake up, we’ll reassess then.”

“Word will get out that Steve was shot,” Luca pointed out. “That she was shot. Hansen and his men might have survived.”

Dyson shook his head. “If Hansen’s alive, and I doubt it, him and his men are long gone. They’ve got bigger problems. Barnes will be hunting them for betraying his family.”

Yelena knew that was true.

“You said it yourself,” Luca said. “Barnes is sharp. He’s going to figure it out.”

“We’ll see,” Dyson said.

“You really think she can do this?” Luca asked. “If she really does have her father’s instincts, it could be bad news for Barnes. Her father was a ruthless bastard.”

Dyson chuckled. “She has them instincts. And no offense,” he waved to Yelena, “but she’s a woman. Those instincts and a woman’s intuition? Barnes might be the one fucked.”

Clint shook his head with a laugh. “Holy shit.”

Dyson’s gaze met Yelena’s. “Exactly right.”

***

The low din of voice was the first thing you noticed when you woke up the next morning. Turning on the TV, you didn’t immediately know where your phone was, you saw it was just after 11 AM.

Fuck. I’ve been out that long?

As quietly as you could manage, you sat up, wincing at the pain. It hurt ten times worse today and pulling back your nightgown to see the dressing, you saw that you’d bled through it.

You’d live.

You had to get to Steve.

It was slow going in making yourself at least presentable. You took a sink bath because you knew you probably should get the dressing over your wound wet. You pulled on jeans and one of Steve’s big sweaters because a bra was out of the question at the moment. Sliding on flats, you decided you were as good as you were going to get today.

The voices continued and you slid out of your room and made your way in that direction. Was it Nat?

Was it Steve?

Dyson had told you Steve was in a coma. Was he awake now? Could you see him?

Was he dead?

Nat’s bedroom was quiet, so you passed it. The talking was coming from a few doors down, one of the guest rooms. The door was slightly open, and you peeked in. You saw Yelena, Clint, and Jensen off to one side of the room. You moved to see the bed, your heart leaping in hope that it was Steve, and he was awake.

It wasn’t Steve. No, in the center of that bed was a young woman, asleep and curled up on her side. She looked so small with the covers pulled up over her shoulder. She looked so familiar.

Then you remembered that small purple purse in Hansen’s house, randomly lying on his sofa. It occurred to you why she looked familiar.

“She’s going to have to understand,” Clint said in a low voice. “We can’t go to the police.”

“I understand that,” Yelena said. “But we also can’t just throw her back out into the world. Not with what he did to her. She needs help and protection.”

Jensen stood listening, his hands on his slim waist. Clint’s hair was spiked over his head and the shadows behind his eyes led her to believe that he’d probably been up all night.

Yelena stood next to the bed, a protective stance. It confirmed your suspicions about what you were seeing. It was the girl from the donut shop. She’d been Hansen’s prisoner and you had some idea of what had happened to her. You also couldn’t help but feel that if anything had happened to Steve, they wouldn’t be dealing with this.

You chose that moment to walk in, to make your presence known. Yelena looked alarmed when she spotted you.

“What are you doing up?” she asked, dashing to your side. “You should be resting right now.”

You shook your head, shrugged off her careful hands. She was probably right but you couldn’t truly rest if you tried. There was way too much going on.

“It’s the girl from the donut shop.” It wasn’t a question. “When did you find her?”

“Dyson sent me back to Hansen’s this morning to do a sweep of the house,” Jensen explained. “To make sure there’s nothing there to implicate your family.”

“Thank you,” you told him. “Our doctor needs to see her.”

Yelena nodded. “He’ll be back in a little while. He—”

“He didn’t stay with my husband?” you asked, trying to keep calm.

“He went back to get his things,” Clint said with his hands held up in front of him. “He’ll be staying with us for a while. Until Steve wakes up.”

You took a deep breath, trying not to let panic take over. Steve was still in a comma then.

You nodded. “Once he’s seen Steve, I want him to take care of her. Yelena’s right. Unless something changed we don’t know if Hansen’s dead or alive. We need to keep her safe.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Clint nodded.

“She probably shouldn’t stay here,” Clint said carefully. “For her own well-being.”

“Once we know she’s physically okay, we’ll come up with a solution,” you told them. “I also want a psychologist brought in to see her.”

“We'll make it happen,” Yelena told you, exchanging a glass with Clint.

Yelena knew more than you what that poor woman had been through. The woman would need that type of support and understanding.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Dyson muttered from behind you as he marched in. “Why are you out of bed?”

He came to a stop right in front of you, his gaze assessing.

“Because it beats just laying there worried about my husband and thinking ‘oh, shit, my shoulder hurts,’” you told him. “Can I see my husband now?”

After a moment, Dyson nodded. “Come on.”

Dyson led you to another guestroom in another hallway. It was quiet in the room and your husband lay in the middle of the bed. He was too still, too pale. He almost never slept on his back, so it was odd to see him like that. Clusters of medical monitors were positioned all around the bed, pushing your anxiety up higher than it already was.

You moved to his bedside, sitting carefully at his side. You barely noticed the pain in your shoulder in that moment as you took his hand in yours. It was warm, but it was too still. Your heart ached in your chest to look at him lying there.

Your fault. This was all your fault.

You knew Dyson was quietly waiting behind you. You didn’t care. You let the tears come, sobbing over your husband as a hundred nightmare scenarios flashed in your mind. What if you lost him? What if he awoke but he was broken, not the same. He’d hate you and that hate would flash in his blue eyes every time he looked at you.

You didn’t realize Dyson had walked over to the bed at first. He stood on the other side, looking as brokenhearted as you felt. Steve was like a son to him.

“I need you to know that if anything happens to Steve,” Dyson said slowly, “I won’t let anyone hurt you. I won’t let Barnes or Hansen get to you. I swear.”

You shook your head. Dyson was a blur on the other side of your tears. “If anything happens to Steve, I won’t care what happens to me, Dyson. It won’t matter.”

A single tear slid down one cheek as he thought about what you said. “Somewhere in all of this, you really fell in love with him, didn’t you?”

Swiping at your eyes with your fingers you nodded. It was a raw truth, and you couldn’t deny it.

“You can talk to him,” Dyson said gently. “Doc said that often when patients are in… a state like this… they can hear you. Might not be able to answer but…”

Your tears dotted the back of Steve’s hand, held in your own. They just kept coming and the crack in your heart got longer and longer until it felt like the world would come apart.

“What do you want him to know?” Dyson’s tone was encouraging.

“I love you,” you said to your husband through your tears. “I’d give anything to take this back. Anything. It’s my fault you got hurt. I’m so… sorry…”

This time as you sobbed, Dyson sat behind you, wrapping his arms around you like he could hold you together.

“Shhhh,” he whispered as he held you. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“It was,” you told him miserably. “I should have done something different. I should have…”

“You were so brave,” Dyson said quietly. “I’ve worked with soldiers who didn't have half of your bravery. Do you know that?”

You shook your head, holding on to Steve’s hand.

“Dyson,” you said as you were trying to get the tears to stop, “he’s in danger. Not just the injuries… What will Barnes do when he finds out? What if Hansen is still alive and he finds out? We have to put a guard around the house. It’s bad enough that he’s like this. But someone… could try to come and finish him off.”

“We were talking about last night,” Dyson said slowly. “And you’re right. We have to safeguard Steve and this family.”

“What are we going to do?” you asked.

“We’re going to convince the outside world that Steve is fine,” Dyson explained. “That’s he’s still holding the reins in this family. That he’s still the head of all the families.”

It sounded like a good idea on the surface, but you hit a dead end in your thoughts pretty quickly. “Even if we could convince everyone that Steve’s fine and still leading the families, he’s in a comma. He’s not even conscious. He can’t make decisions like this. What’s your plan for that?”

“That’s where I need your help,” he said.

You couldn’t have heard that correctly. Shifting on the bed so you could meet his gaze over your shoulder, you stared Dyson down.

“How can I help?”

“I need your instincts,” Dyson said, looking you in the eye. “You were right about Neal. You were right about everything. Hansen pulled the stunt he did, and you just ran right out to challenge him over my sorry ass.”

He thought you could help run the Rogers family? All the families?

“You have strong instincts, your father's instincts, and you're brave,” he went on.

“Maybe I’m just fucking crazy,” you muttered.

“All I’m asking you to do is try,” he said patiently. “After all this, Steve is going to be expected to strike back. He’s going to be expected to hit Barnes hard, to end this rebellion once and for fucking all.”

Dyson was right.

“Everyone expects Steve to be looking for some payback,” Dyson went on. “Don’t you want a little payback for all this?”

That little offer caught your attention. Did you want to make Barnes and Hansen pay? Yes, you did. With the help of Neal and Banner, Barnes had hit Steve’s family hard in so many ways. Consequences you'd faced. Yelena had faced. And Nat? She’d suffered the most.

And what Hansen likely did to that poor girl?

Payback? Oh yes. You wanted a lot of fucking payback.

You glanced at your husband, your heart echoing his words to you from yesterday. Come back to me.

Steve would come back to you. You wouldn’t accept anything less. You wouldn’t let his family fall.

Returning your gaze to Dyson, you lifted your chin. “Let’s do this. I want Barnes to fucking suffer. I want to hit him so fucking hard no one else will ever dare challenge my husband, my family, again.”

Dyson smiled.

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#his inheritance #steve rogers #clint barton #yelena belova #steve rogers x reader

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shy-violet-soul · 11 months

Text

YAY FOR AN UPDATE!!!!!!

His Inheritance: Chapter 29

Part 29: There for the Taking

Series Masterlist

Words: 7.8k

Pairing: Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader

Warnings: References to mob crime families, strong language, physical violence, character death. (No this isn't a carryover from Chapter 28) This is a dark fic. Please read responsibly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steve had just wrapped up his meeting with Murdock when someone knocked at his study door.

“Thank you, Matt,” Steve told him. “My driver will take you wherever you want to go.”

Murdock finished stowing his items away in his briefcase, rising from the chair with the help of his walking stick. His new consigliere paused.

“Thank you,” Matt said. “Good luck on everything.”

His lawyer opened the door to let himself out, Luca allowed him to pass before peering in. And Steve could tell from the look on the cook’s face that something was off.

“Boss, we have a situation,” Luca said. “I’ll see Murdock out first.”

“Thank you,” Steve muttered.

Steve stayed in his chair, tired. He had only spent one night away from his wife, and he hadn’t slept. When he closed his eyes, all he could see was the hurt on her face when he told her they’d continue their marriage when her birth control shot was no longer in effect.

It had been a shitty way to handle the situation and he knew that. He let anger conquer his head. He tried to justify it to himself with the idea that isolating her in their bedroom would keep her safe. At least until their plans with the families were complete. Once that was done, it would be him trying to earn her forgiveness. Trying to earn his way back into his own bed.

The sooner they could deal with Barnes and the other families, the sooner he could mend things with her.

For fuck’s sake, they had to. Steve shook his head.

Women had been an addiction of his to this point in his life. A love-hate relationship. Steve loved the beauty of women, their softness, their smiles. He loved them dressed up so he could show them off, one conquest after another. Sex was his fix, the best way to get high and out from under all the things that plagued him in day-to-day life. Steve was always up for it. Any time of the day, anywhere.

Like any addiction, like alcohol or drugs, there was a dark side. The women were a problem with their needs for validation and ownership. If they tried to hold onto him, he walked. If they tried to manipulate him, he ran. And considering who he was, there wasn’t a damn thing any of them could do about it.

When he decided to marry, his wife had everything he could have hoped for in his position. Young and naïve, sheltered. She had an innocent beauty, ballerina delicate. And for his dark world, she had a bonafide motherfucking pedigree. Steve would be the envy of every man, not just for his position but for his beautiful young bride, the daughter of the man who led before him. And behind closed doors, he’d teach her to please him…

How had it come to this?

A man could learn to live without alcohol, without a drug. It wasn’t easy but it could be done. His wife was neither of those things. Living without her now was like trying to live without air or water. It scared him and that fear pricked at his anger, made him lash out at her.

The fact that he couldn’t control her, couldn’t even contain her, made him want her even more.

Luca’s heavy tread let Steve know he’d returned, closing the door behind him. The edge of desperation on his man’s face brought his focus back to the present.

“What’s up?” Steve asked, watching Luca drop heavily into the chair his lawyer just occupied.

“Look, Nat got a call from Clint,” Luca said slowly. “Said we’ve been ratted out.”

Steve knew he wouldn’t like what Luca had to say but he didn’t think it would be that bad. “What?”

“Clint called Nat and told her we been ratted out,” Luca said again. “Told her to get your wife and go to the sewing room. They’re both up there.”

Steve’s mind spun. He checked his phone and saw he had nothing from Clint.

“He hasn’t tried to call me,” Steve said.

“Nat said things didn’t sound so good on his end. We don’t have a location on him.”

It wasn’t going well at all for Clint to go so far as to ask Nat to go to the hiding place his father set up years ago and take his wife with her.

Steve had always hated being hidden in there with his mother and sister. He felt small, helpless. The last time he’d been fourteen years old. Once they got past the feds, Steve had complained to his father about being put there. He’d loudly told his father he could have helped. His father had given him a solid beating for that outburst. His father had taken his pride down a peg or two that day.

Now that he was older, he understood why his father had placed them there when the situation called for it. His father had come from a place where he wanted to protect what was most valuable to him.

They didn’t know where Clint was. They supposedly had a rat. And his sister and his wife were in the sewing room. Nat would stay there just like Clint wanted her to.

His wife? Steve just knew she would hate it. He knew she’d be bristling before long just like he used to. Probably for the same reasons.

“Think Barnes got to Clint?” Steve asked.

“Nah,” Luca replied. “he’d let them kill him before he’d bring Nat into things in any way.”

That rang true.

“But he said Barnes knows everything now. That we’re all in danger,” Luca went on. “He didn’t say who.”

“He wouldn’t tell Nat,” Steve said, trying to wrap his mind around this turn of events. “It protects her… Where’s everyone else?”

“We’ve been trying to reach Dyson but he ain’t answering any of us,” Luca explained.

“Even my wife?” Steve had to ask.

“You have her phone,” Luca pointed out. “He ain’t answering Nat’s phone.”

That wasn’t a good sign.

“Scott’s fine. He’s on his way here.”

His cook left someone out. “Neal?”

“I don’t know,” Luca told him, his expression grim.

“You think Neal is our rat?” Steve asked.

“Your wife does,” Luca told him.

The tap at the door stopped their conversation. Luca rose and went to the door, opening it to find Scott. Steve motioned him in, Luca closing the door.

“Scott, I have a question for you,” Steve said as his men took seats across from him. “What happened that day when I brought my sister home? Specifically, what happened between Banner and my wife?”

Scott blew out an exhale, nodding. He explained that he caught Mrs. Rogers before she went down to confront the angry lawyer and tried to send her back to her room, to let him handle it. When Scott explained that she wouldn’t agree to that, Steve nodded. It was what he expected.

“I told her to stay behind me,” Scott told them. “But she really didn’t do that either. Banner came in yelling about you taking his wife. He blamed you. He blamed Mrs. Rogers. He turned a scary shade of red. Right before you came in, he reared back like…”

“Like?” Steve asked.

“Like he was going to hit her,” Scott finished. “Like he was going to hit Mrs. Rogers. I pulled her back, but it wouldn’t have been enough. Belova came out of nowhere and blocked him, got him under control.”

Scott’s story matched his wife’s so far. Steve felt his anger rise.

“And Neal? What was he doing?” Steve wanted to know.

So did Luca, he was staring Scott down hard.

Scott shook his head. “He didn’t try to protect her, boss.”

Scrubbing a hand over his beard, Steve looked at Luca. ‘What are your thoughts?”

“Dyson beat the bejesus out of him right here in this office,” Luca said.

“Because he threatened Belova,” Steve reminded him.

“You ever known Dyson to beat the shit out of someone as a warning?” Luca said. “I’ve known Dyson a long time. I’ve seen him warn people lots of times. But not like that. He has a problem with Neal just like your wife and Belova has a problem with him. If they think he’s the rat, yeah, so do I.”

“Scott?” Steve asked.

Scott nodded. “Neal doesn’t talk to me. I just know I didn’t like how he acted that day with Mrs. Rogers. I don’t like how he treats Yelena either. I could never tell if it was because he didn’t like her or he didn’t like her because of her loyalty to your wife.”

Neal had been a loyal soldier to Steve, someone he trusted. Neal had even saved his life. How could it be that everyone else in his house didn’t trust him? How?

Jesus.

“If Clint is right and we’ve been ratted out,” Steve told them, “We have to call everything off. If Neal is our rat, Barnes and whoever is working with him knows exactly what we’re planning. Fuck.”

Rising from his chair, Steve began pacing. “Dyson is supposed to be going with Neal to deal with Hansen. I thought by sending them together, they could mend fences. Bond over taking care of shit. And it would prove Neal isn’t a liability. Now… hell, Neal might kill Dyson himself for that beating. If he hasn’t already. We have to find Dyson, now.”

“Unless we have reason to believe otherwise, we have to assume Dyson will meet Neal as planned,” Luca said. “And that’s not long from now. We need to be there before Neal is.”

“Luca, I need you to dial back orders. If Barnes knows any of this, our people are walking into a trap. I need you to talk to everyone. Personally. Call it off.”

“You got it, boss,” Luca said.

“Luca, I want a small goddamn army around this house,” Steve instructed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Luca said.

“See if anyone knows anything about Clint,” Steve went on. “I want a status on him ASAP. Scott help Luca.”

Both men nodded.

“Otherwise, my sister will lose her fucking mind.” Steve thought of her in the sewing room with his wife.

Luca and Scott left his study to do his bidding. Steve went to the bar behind his desk, poured himself a scotch. He needed it for what was coming next. Pulling open his desk drawer, he fished out his wife’s phone.

Once he finished his drink, Steve headed up the stairs, passing his bedroom. When he reached the linen closet, the façade that hid the sewing room, he took a deep breath. Quietly as he could, he opened the door, pushed the button that opened the door to the hidden room within.

Nat was huddled on the bench looking miserable, physically and emotionally. Her green eyes filled with tears when she rushed to him. Steve caught his sister in his arms, hugging her tightly. She was cold, shaking.

His wife? She sat on the floor under the window, eyeing him warily.

One thing his wife wasn’t? Afraid. No, she wasn’t showing any fear.

Easing his sister back onto the bench, Steve smoothed a hand over her red hair. “Nat, I’m going to have Luca bring some blankets and a space heater up here with your dinner, okay? You’re freezing.”

Nat wasn’t letting him go. “Is Clint on his way home?”

Steve met her gaze squarely. “We’ll find him. I promise.”

Nat didn’t look convinced, but she sat back down on the bench, her hands wringing. Steve walked over to his wife, held out his hand. She took it, allowing him to help her off the floor.

“I’m going to talk to my wife for just a moment out here, okay?” Steve asked carefully.

Nat nodded. His wife followed him through the linen closet and out into the hall.

“We need to talk,” Steve said slowly, trying to keep his tone even.

“I’d like to help you, Steve,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “But we don’t resume our marriage until 29 days from now, so…”

“I know, I know,” he said. “Everything’s so fucked right now between me and you. And we will deal with that.”

“Yes, we will,” she said, way too calm standing before him.

“But right now, we have to deal with the threat to this family,” Steve told her as he would one of his men. “Were you with Nat when Clint called?”

She frowned. “No, I was locked in my room.”

“Nat came and got you,” he said. “What exactly did she tell you about that phone call?”

Surprise flashed across her beautiful face for just a second. “She said that Clint told her we had been ratted out. That Barnes knew everything and that placed us all in danger. He told her to come get me and to bring me to this room as soon as she got off the phone. And she did just that.”

“He didn’t tell her anything else?” Steve asked.

She shook her head. “I wanted to see if she had left anything out or could tell me if she heard anything in the background. She’s too upset about the fact that he’s in danger. She’s barely holding herself together right now… Have you heard from Clint? Or Dyson?”

“No,” he said simply. “Luca’s doing his damnedest to find anything on either of them.” Speaking of Luca… “You have Nat’s phone. That’s how you got Luca.”

“Yes,” she told him. “It was obvious you hadn’t heard from Clint if you were still meeting with your lawyer.”

“You didn’t call me,” he had to say it.

Her chin tipped up in challenge. “If I had known what to expect from you, I would have.”

Steve earned that. “Is there anything else you know, Sweetheart? Anything at all?”

Oh, she did. He knew that look.

“What?” he asked.

“It involves Yelena,” she said, holding his gaze.

“This is not the time to bargain with me—”

“Oh, I’m not bargaining for anything,” she informed him, anger hardening her expression. “Yelena will be back where she belongs when this is over. She’s loyal to me and it was out of that loyalty that she told Clint where he could find Banner.”

“Excuse me?” Banner was supposed to be gone. Long gone, off to the west coast.

“He was still here,” she told him. “On Stark’s turf. He needed to be dealt with and Clint deserved a go at him.”

The way his wife spoke, the fire in her eyes. It mirrored the anger he was struggling to keep down right now.

“Think about it,” she said. “Yelena gave him that information. Then he calls Nat, tells her we’ve been ratted out and Barnes knows everything. We’re all in danger.”

Steve stared her down. “You think Banner is the rat?”

She shook her head. “Banner’s involved, but he’s not the rat. He didn’t know what you had planned for tonight. And he had no access to that information unless it was from the rat who did. But he was still here. Banner was hoping for something, and it wasn’t Nat.”

She had a point. Banner had sworn to Steve he’d be gone.

“You think Stark is involved?” Steve pressed.

“No,” she said. “I don’t really know him. But from the impression I got, he wouldn’t be that stupid.”

It was his thought exactly about Tony Stark. Jesus. Who was this woman he married?

“Barnes?” She shrugged. “Well, that remains to be seen.”

“You’ve talked to Belova,” he said.

“And she is on her way to the location she gave Clint,” she explained.

“Alone?”

“No, she’s with friends,” his wife explained.

“What friends?”

“All I know is that they are friends of Dyson,” she said. “And if he trusts them, and she trusts them, then so do I.”

Not a hint of doubt or hesitation. His wife stood toe to toe with him, talking about the dangers of his world with authority.

“But we have no idea where Dyson is.” Now her expression softened. The smallest trace of fear in her eyes. “I tried to call him from Nat’s phone, Luca called. There’s no answer. He’s supposed to be going with Neal to deal with Hansen. Steve, we have to find him.”

Scrubbing a hand through his hair, Steve nodded. “We do. We really do… Dyson didn’t take it well that I pushed Belova out.”

“I’ll bet he didn’t,” she said bitterly.

“You got in his head about Neal,” Steve told her. “Neal said something about Belova Dyson really didn’t like. He beat the shit out of him last night, right there in my office.”

Steve saw the flash of excitement in her eyes at that. Just as quickly, it diminished.

“Jesus, Steve. Dyson’s walking into a trap between Hansen and Neal.” His wife shook her head, her teeth tugging at her lower lip nervously. “He’s dead if we don’t do something.”

Steve knew she could be right. If Neal was who she thought he was.

“You really think Neal is the rat here?” he asked.

“I know he is, Steve.”

It was then he realized something. The conviction, the certainty in her voice? It was all too familiar.

It all very much reminded him of her father. Every bit of it. And her father had been a hell of a leader in his time. He would never have found himself in the shit situation Steve let himself fall into.

Could he put aside who he thought Neal was? Did he have a choice?

Pulling her phone out of the pocket of his slacks, he handed it to her. “Try to call Dyson. One last try before I start making hard decisions.”

She took the phone without hesitation, hitting Dyson’s number with haste and putting the speaker on so he could hear. It only rang once before someone answered.

“Hi there, Princess,” Hansen drawled.

Fucking Hansen?

Steve tried to grab the phone, but his wife pulled it away, putting a finger to her lips. A signal for him to be quiet.

How was he supposed to be quiet when the slimy bastard had his mentor?

Why was the fucker calling his wife ‘Princess?’

“Are you there?” Hansen taunted.

“I’m here,” his wife said finally, taking a deep breath.

“Nothing to say?”

“Why are you answering Dyson’s phone?” she demanded.

“Dyson’s a little occupied at the moment,” Hansen went on in.

“He’s alive?” she asked.

“For now.”

“Is Neal with you?”

Hansen laughed at that. It was the moment Steve realized his wife was right.

“They’re working through a few things,” Hansen said casually. “It’s going well.”

“I want to speak Dyson,” she told him. “Now.”

“Think I’m lying to you, Princess?”

“Now, Hansen,” she said with more force.

Hansen’s sigh was loud and there was the sound of movement. Another voice mumbled in the background, Steve thought it was Neal. Then they heard Hansen say, “she wants to talk to you.”

“Hey,” Dyson said, sounding out of breath.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” Dyson said slowly. “Don’t you worry yourself about me.”

“You know better than that,” she said. “But I need you to come home.”

There was a loud crash and the sound of Dyson’s yell. His wife gazed up at him wide-eyed. Now she was afraid. Steve wanted to grab the phone, but it was better for Hansen to think she was alone.

“You want Dyson back home?” Hansen’s tone was a little impatient. “Let’s talk.”

Her eyes were still on her husband. Steve nodded.

“Okay.”

“I’ll give him back to you, but I want something in return,” Hansen said.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“You know what I want,” Hansen told her. “You.”

The thought that the ruthless bastard wanted his wife so badly had Steve choking on his fury.

She snorted. “And what do you think is going to happen? You’re going to show up with Dyson and Steve will make a trade?”

“Steve’s running out of time,” Hansen told her. “If he was the man you deserve, I wouldn’t have his top lieutenant, would I? I wouldn’t be so easily able to reach his wife. Steve can’t hold his own family together, much less lead the other families. When he falls, have you thought about what that means for you?”

It was all Steve could do not to start ranting at the arrogant fucker. Especially as he watched worry creep into his wife’s expression.

“How would it happen?” she asked.

“No!” Dyson yelled in the background. “Don’t you even think about—”

A sharp crack cut off the rest of what Dyson was about to say.

“Please don’t hurt him,” his wife whispered.

“You can stop it,” Hansen told her.

She looked to Steve, big eyes filled with so much emotion.

In his head, Steve narrowed down his choices. The fact that Hansen had Dyson, cut down his options. Neal was with them, confirming his wife’s suspicions. Neal would have told them all their plans. Fuck. Neal knew lots of things about Steve, how he ran the family.

If something happened to Dyson, and he had to admit at the moment that it was a very real possibility, the family would survive it. They already appeared to be struggling and that was Barnes’ intention, he knew. Losing Dyson would make them look even weaker. Blood in the water to put doubt in the minds of Odinson, Stark, and Wilson.

If something happened to Dyson, his wife might not survive. Especially with Hansen making her believe she could personally save the only father she really had. Hansen’s cruelty forced his hand. If Steve denied her now, he’d lose her.

With a fear shooting through his heart he’d never known, he nodded. His wife’s eyes widened in surprise.

“How will it happen?” she asked Hansen again, not missing a beat.

Hansen muttered his instructions in his wife’s ear. Steve didn’t catch most of it, gripped by the seriousness of the situation. Hating that he had no other choice. Hating the risk that he could lose both his wife and Dyson.

“I’ll see you soon, Princess” was all Hansen said when he ended the call.

And just like that, leading the families wasn’t the most important thing to Steve. Leading his family, having everyone’s respect didn’t matter. Not nearly as much as the man they held hostage or the woman he loved, watching him with the phone clutched in her trembling hands.

“Steve, what are we going to do?” she asked, sounding as scared as she looked.

Wrapping his arms around his wife, Steve pulled her close. She trembled in his hold, and he knew she was afraid, but she was brave. Steve was proud of her for that.

“He said I needed to be there, at his house, within the hour,” she told him. “Or they’ll kill Dyson.”

“I know,” he said low by her ear. “So we need to move fast.”

Moving past her, Steve went to the sewing room, leaning down to kiss his sister’s forehead. “I’m taking my wife with me,” he said. “Stay here and stay hidden even though I’m going to do my best to keep the fighting away from here.”

Nodding, she said, “Be careful.”

“We will,” he told her. “Luca will still be here if you need him.”

His wife hugged her quickly. “We’ll be home soon. With Clint.”

Steve just hoped his wife was right.

***

Your heart raced as Luca and Scott arrived at Steve’s office, closing the door behind them. Both of them looked startled to see you.

“What’s up boss?” Luca was still staring at you. “I’ve got the men setting up around the house.”

“We’ve had a complication,” Steve told them. “It’s Dyson. Hansen has him.”

Scott’s mouth dropped open. Luca scowled at Steve. “How the fuck did that happen?”

“With Neal’s help,” Steve said calmly. Glancing back at you, he blew out an exhale. “My wife was right.”

You couldn’t even enjoy being right. Not with someone you loved in danger.

Leaning against his desk with his heavy arms across his chest, Steve looked deep in thought.

“Barnes found out just in time that we were going to hit him and hit him hard,” Steve said. “We were going to strike his turf, his holdings. Hansen. By now, he knows we figured out we were betrayed. He’s going to do one of two things. He’s going to try to hit us here, which we’re ready for and he would know that… Or he’s going sit tight and see what our next move is.”

Luca shook his head. “Barnes ain’t going to do shit right now. If he’s smart.”

Steve nodded. Scott looked as lost as you felt.

“Why not?” Scott asked.

“We can’t prove the hits on us were Barnes,” Luca explained. “We know they were, but we can’t prove it. Then there’s the other three families. They swore allegiance to Steve. If they find out Barnes is knifing Steve in the back, they’ll rally to our side. But if Barnes can get in their heads, make it look like Steve is paranoid and weak…”

From the beginning, Barnes’ plan was to prove Steve was unfit to lead the families. You remembered the first time you met him in the kitchen, the bitterness of his tone when he spoke to Steve. The belief that he should have been leader of the families – Barnes not Steve.

“Barnes can’t just fight Steve for leadership?” you had to ask, wanting to learn.

“No,” Luca told you. “He doesn’t have the muscle.”

“Why did Barnes have Hansen grab Dyson?” Scott shook his head. “If what you say is true, that move doesn’t make a lot of sense. No one is closer to Steve than him.”

“I don’t think that was Barnes’ idea,” Steve said. “We’d planned for Neal and Dyson to go deal with Hansen. And Hansen has it coming for attacking this house and trying to get his hands on my wife.”

“But Neal and Hansen grabbed Dyson instead,” Scott said. “How is that going to play out?”

“Dyson beat the shit out of Neal right here in this office,” Luca explained. “It’s perfect really. Neal claims he’s having problems with this family and Dyson beat him like a dog. So he defected, telling Barnes things to earn a place over there. Offing Dyson would be seen as just a little bit of payback between two soldiers. That’s how that plays out.”

You swallowed hard. It was all plausible. Complete bullshit and terrifying, but plausible.

“How do we get Dyson back?” Scott asked them.

“He wants to trade for him,” you told Scott. “He’ll let Dyson go if I agree to take his place.”

Scott’s mouth dropped open again. “What?”

“Hansen called my wife. He doesn’t know I was listening. He thinks he’s scaring her into doing what he wants.” Both Luca and Scott looked to Steve. Steve cut you a glance. “I really don’t like this either but that was his condition. And we have just under an hour to decide what we’re going to do.”

“Fuck,” Luca said. “That would start a war. Barnes can’t go around snatching someone else’s wife. The families would never accept that.”

“I don’t think that’s Barnes’ idea either,” Steve replied. “Not his style. But very much Hansen’s.”

“Hansen wants your wife?” Scott shook his head. “Then what? That would start a war between the families for sure.”

“I don’t think Hansen intends on sticking around for the outcome,” Steve said. “He likely thinks he can grab her and go.”

Your heart raced in your chest. You knew Steve wasn’t seriously considering the trade. That meant coming up with a plan where Steve kept you and got Dyson back too. No matter the plan, it was dangerous.

“You up for this?” Luca asked you in a calm voice.

For Dyson? “Yes, I am,” you told them with no hesitation.

Luca grinned. “Okay then. We need an airtight plan because whether or not he can get his hands on Mrs. Rogers, he’s not planning on leaving Dyson alive.”

What?

“Agreed,” Steve said.

“And we have some friends here to help,” Luca went on. “Friends with skills that are perfect for this.”

“The ones Yelena is with?” you asked.

“I know how you feel about Belova,” Steve said, “but she’s not that experienced.”

“The ones with her are,” Luca told them. “There are five of them and all but Aisha were fucking special forces.”

“Maybe so, but I’m not trusting just anyone with her,” Steve told them.

“Well, you can’t go,” Luca pointed out.

“What?” Steve asked.

“You can’t go,” Luca reiterated. “Hansen thinks she’s sneaking out to come make the trade. They see you and they’ll know it’s a trap.”

Color rose from Steve’s collar, darkened his face.

“You have to be here, and you know this,” Luca told him.

“I’m supposed to just send my wife to Hansen’s knowing I might never see her again?” Steve was getting more upset by the second. “Entrust her to people I don’t know?”

Luca put his hands on his hips. “Or we could keep her here. Sacrifice Dyson.”

“No!” you shouted. It wasn’t an option.

“That’s where we are,” Luca told him. “But we can make this work. I’ll call Clay right now, okay?”

After a moment, Steve nodded. “Give us a minute, okay?”

Luca and Scott left you alone with Steve. And Steve looked like he himself was facing the gallows.

Yeah, you were scared. But you had to try and save Dyson. From Hansen. From Neal.

“This is all on me,” Steve said, more serious than you’d ever seen him. “I want you to realize this. Yeah, I lost my temper about that incident, but it doesn’t seem so important now. And now I know Neal was the rat. He instigated all of it.”

Sliding a hand over your cheek, he gazed into your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“We’ll talk about it when Dyson and I get home,” you told him.

You were shaking but you were holding up. You could do this.

“If Dyson trusts the ones Luca is talking about,” Steve said, “then I will too.”

“I trust Yelena too,” you told him. “And she will be reinstated when we get back.”

Steve nodded. “But I fucking hate this. This is exactly the sort of thing I wanted to avoid. I’m going to lose my mind until this is over. Until you’re back here.”

Now he’d have an idea what you went through. The play of anger and fear in his expression kept you from enjoying it.

“I need you to promise me something. I know how you feel about Dyson and Yelena. I know you love them. But if things look to be going wrong or you don’t see a way to get everyone out, you get out of there. Even if it means you’re the only one who gets out. Even if it means you have to leave them behind.”

You just stared at him.

“Hansen wants you,” Steve reminded you. “He’s not going to harm you. Remember that.”

Leaning in, he kissed your lips. A seeking kiss, gentle and slow, almost as if he were asking permission. You answered it, a kiss to remind yourself that Steve wasn’t all bad. You still cared about him.

The desperation in his kiss grew. You could taste it. Steve was kissing you like it was goodbye. You didn’t miss the slight tremor in his hand on your face.

“Come back to me,” Steve whispered against your lips. “Please.”

Easing back, you gaze up at him. “I will. And we have a lot to talk about when I do.”

Both of you smiled at that. Your usual marital fighting seemed like a happy memory next to this.

“I love you,” Steve whispered.

“I love you,” you whispered back, just in case you didn’t see him again.

And just maybe you meant it. The way your heart squeezed in your chest made you wonder…

***

You scrambled down the road like a scared little runaway, trying to play the part as Luca had explained it to you. The sun was going down and according to your phone, you had just under 20 minutes to reach Hansen’s house.

A small SUV pulled up next to you as you walked. Your Uber. When the driver asked if you were Mrs. Rogers, you nodded, climbed in the back.

The driver’s blue-eyed gaze met yours in the rearview mirror. He was a bigger guy with spiky blond hair and round glasses. He smiled before turning his attention to the road ahead.

“How are you holding up?” he asked.

It was a strange question.

“I’m… fine,” you told him.

He nodded, driving along.

“I’m Jensen,” he explained. “Dyson’s a good friend.”

That got your attention. “Are you one of the friends Yelena’s been staying with?”

“Yeah,” he explained. “She’s going to be there with us. We’ve got a plan. We’ll do everything we can to get you and Dyson back home shortly.”

“Thank you,” you told him. “Thank you for helping us.”

“Hey,” Jensen said. “Dyson’s helped us out a couple of times. We owe him.”

It was good to know that they cared about getting Dyson out safely as much as you did.

“We’ll be there in about ten minutes,” he explained. “I’ll pull up and you just hop out, okay? I’ll stash the car and take up my position.”

“Okay,” you told him.

“You’ll need to leave your piece in here with me,” he went on.

“What?”

“Your gun,” Jensen said. “Put it in the duffel bag back there. It’s my stuff. I’ll make sure you get it back.”

You’d almost forgotten about it honestly, pulling it free of your jeans. “Why can’t I take it?”

He smiled. “Yelena said you shot him once.”

“I did.” You were proud of that. Having the gun made you feel a little safer.

“There are too many things that could go wrong here,” he said. “I promise I’ll get it back to you.”

You nodded, knowing you had no choice but to trust these people. Dyson trusted them…

Unzipping the bag, you made sure the safety was on and carefully put your gun in. There was another handgun in there among some other ordinary looking belongings. A keyring caught your eye. On it was a small picture of Jensen with a pretty woman and the cutest little girl. On the other side the words “Best Buy” were engraved into the pewter.

“Is this picture your family?” you asked, zipping the bag again.

“Yeah,” he said with a wide smile. “My fiancée and our daughter Charlie.”

“They are beautiful,” you told him.

“Thank you. We have a baby on the way,” he told you. “I’m trying to get her to the altar before he or she gets here though.”

“Let’s make sure that happens,” you told him with conviction.

Jensen nodded.

“Is there anything else I need to know going in?” you asked him.

“Just be yourself,” Jensen told you. “You have friends. Remember that. You’ll know me and Yelena anyway. Dyson. Follow our lead. We’ll get you home.”

Five minutes later, Jensen dropped you off in front of an older house. It was an isolated location with no neighbors in sight anyway. You did just what Jensen told you and hopped out, not looking back at him. You weren’t taking your eyes off the impressive house before you.

You walked along the stone path leading to the front door. Just off to the side of the house you saw Dyson’s Cadillac, Neal’s SUV. It was surreal and you struggled to keep your knees from knocking.

Neal was the asshole you believed him to be. He sold all of you out. He sold you out.

But the worst thing he did was try to take Dyson from you. You focused on him.

Dyson was yours. Your caretaker. Your friend. Your father.

It would be a cold day in hell when you let Neal or Hansen take him away from you.

Before your foot hit the first step, the front door of that house opened. Hansen.

Well, you didn’t want your audience to be disappointed. You took your time climbing the steps, your back straight, your chin up. When you stepped on the porch, only then did you meet his gaze. You gazed at the huge beast of a man as if he bored you. As if he were beneath you.

Hansen didn’t appear to be moving from the doorway to let you in. He grinned at you.

Then you stopped.

“Planning to pat me down and check for weapons?” you asked him.

“Do you want me to?” he asked, his grin widening.

You rolled your eyes. “Take me to Dyson. Now.”

Hansen stepped back, motioning you in with his hand. You walked by him, into a living room with a high ceiling and elegant furnishings. Nothing out of place in the opulent room.

Well, just one thing that didn’t belong there. A tiny purse, its purple leather standing out on the sand-colored upholstery. Why did Hansen have that?

You kept walking until you reached the kitchen. You met Dyson’s gaze first. He was bound to the chair, his face bloody and bruised. He was gagged. The steel in his gaze gave you courage. Told you without words that he trusted you.

Neal stood up from another chair at the kitchen table and he didn’t look much better. The only difference was Neal’s wounds had little time to scab over, to set in. You grinned at Neal.

“You look beaten down. How does it feel?” you asked him.

“Fuck you,” Neal spat, taking a menacing step closer to you.

You didn’t move.

“That’s some big talk for someone whose husband locked her in her room for disobeying him,” Neal said, cutting a glance at Hansen who stood behind you.

Hansen chuckled. “You couldn’t handle her any better than Rogers could.”

You flinched when you felt his hand at your lower back. Not a barely there, tentative touch. No, it was possessive. When it moved lower, you moved before he could touch your ass. You glared up at the bastard, hoping he couldn’t tell you were fucking terrified on the inside.

“The only one allowed to handle me at all is my husband,” you told him, raising your chin. “Now, Dyson goes back home. With me.”

Hansen’s grin didn’t subside. “That wasn’t the deal, princess. It’s a trade. Him for you. The only terms I’ll accept.”

“If you know me so well, you know I have no intention of ever making a trade,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

Hansen cocked a brow at you. “Then what are your intentions? Your husband doesn’t know you’re here not that he ever knows what you’re doing.”

You tried your best to look bored. It was true. But having the enemy reference the fact that you didn’t appear to respect your own husband made you pause. You didn’t like it.

“Belova isn’t here to protect you,” Hansen went on. “You don’t appear to be armed. You don’t have a lot of options.”

Yelena was somewhere close. You hoped.

“We’re wasting time here,” Neal told him, his usually annoying self. You froze when he pulled out his gun, a Glock like yours, and pointed it at the back of Dyson’s head. “She goes to Barnes, we get rid of Dad here, and head over there to finish this. Rogers’ camp is in chaos right now. Let’s hit them while they’re weak.”

“You son-of-a-bitch.” You glared at him. “Steve thought so much of you. I couldn’t convince him otherwise. And this is what you’re doing?”

“It is.” Neal’s finger twitched around the trigger. Your heart raced in fear as Dyson’s gaze met yours, his gaze calm, like he was willing you to hang on. “Once we get rid of your husband, Barnes gets you and for that, he’s going to help me start my own family. I won’t be a soldier anymore. I’ll get everything I ever wanted.”

“Barnes?” You laughed humorlessly at that. “And you believed him?”

The man’s gaze moved from Dyson to you.

“That worked out so well for Banner,” you taunted him.

The gun in Neal’s hand lowered, wavered. Good. You were drawing his attention away from Dyson…

Before you could blink, Hansen pulled a gun and shot Neal in the face. Bone, brains, and gore splattered Dyson in his chair as your ears rang from the shot. Neal just dropped to the floor.

Now you were afraid. From the apprehension you read in Dyson’s gaze now, he was too.

Hansen tucked his gun away as casually as he might a phone or his wallet. He turned what he must have thought was a charming smile on you.

“Does this mean I’m not going to Barnes?” you had to ask. “Was anything he said true?”

“It was true,” he told you. “Barnes has everything carefully planned out. And he can have your husband, But he’s not getting you. That was never part of my plan.”

“How does that work with him being your boss?” you wanted to know. “Or are you betraying him the same way Neal was betraying Steve?”

That grin widened behind his mustache. “That’s just the way this little world of ours works. You’re either born into a family like you and Rogers or you make your own way like Neal here. But you’ve got to be smarter than that.”

“So where does that leave us?” You moved closer to Dyson, not turning your back on Hansen. He could have shot Dyson just as easily.

“You already know the answer to that,” Hansen told you, his gaze shifting from Dyson back to you. “A trade. You can send him home right now. But you’re mine.”

You rolled your eyes. But inside, your fear was escalating. You remember the horrible things Yelena told you. What Hansen did to her. She was brave and fierce, more so than you. You didn’t want to consider what the asshole had planned for you.

You knew Dyson’s friends were with her. But Yelena herself? She was terrified of him, and she was right to feel that way.

Could Jensen get you out then?

Here’s hoping.

“Fine,” you told him. “Let him go. The trade isn’t complete until I have absolute proof that he’s back home.”

“Fine,” Hansen repeated slowly. The look he cut you told you he didn’t quite buy your performance. Pulling a knife from his pocket, he used it to cut through Dyson’s bonds, allowing him to pull the gag away himself.

Dyson eyed you warily. “Don’t do this,” he said calmly. “Whatever it is you think you’re doing, please don’t.”

Before you could say anything, Hansen blew out an exhale, looking more annoyed than anything. When he turned to look behind him, you saw the man standing there. He was tall as Steve with broad shoulders. The man was a little older with threads of white in his dark hair, in his beard. His grin gave him a very roguish charm.

“Oh, I think it’s a pretty good plan,” the man said, his voice deep whiskey. “We’re going to have to change it up though. We’re here to take Dyson and Mrs. Rogers back home.”

“That doesn’t work for me, Clay,” Hansen told him. “Now, I’m going to kill you. Then I kill Dyson. Then I’m taking Mrs. Rogers with me. And then we call it a day.”

From behind the man he called Clay, you saw Jensen step out. Your heart swelled to see Yelena, her concerned gaze on you. Both held handguns, assessing the situation. Yelena looked so small next to the two dangerous men.

Without looking, Hansen reached for his gun. A bullet hit the floor at his feet, had him jumping slightly in alarm before moving to put his hands back up and in view.

Yelena’s expression was pure rage.

“Hey, Lena,” Hansen crooned. “Miss me?”

You shook your head at her. Don’t answer him. Don’t give him the satisfaction.

You inched closer to Dyson until you put yourself between him and Hansen. Yelena’s eyes widened on you. But you knew what you were doing. You weren’t about to let Hansen kill Dyson.

Hansen’s laugh didn’t appear to phase the trio in front of you, but it chilled your blood. “I’m not exactly alone here,” he told all of you.

A tap at the kitchen window behind you got your attention. An armed soldier in body armor was holding an assault rifle outside, his eyes cold as he gazed at you. Two more soldiers crept up the hallway from the opposite direction to the kitchen, also armed with rifles.

Clay eyed them warily as your fear escalated. What happened now?

“They aren’t alone either,” a familiar voice said from behind Jensen and Yelena.

Tears pricked the backs of your eyes to see your husband making his way into the room, his gaze on you. He didn’t stop until he reached you. The expression he wore scared you because you’d never seen that before. It was terrifying. Only the emotion in his blue eyes revealed the relief he appeared to be feeling at reaching you.

You couldn’t help it. You ran to Steve’s side, wrapping your arms around his waist, clinging to him.

“Ballsy,” Hansen told him. “Let me guess. You’ve got this place surrounded.”

Steve’s nod was curt. “We’re done here.”

The smile faded from Hansen’s face. His gaze moved over you as you clung to your husband. It was covetous, angry.

“I say when we’re done here,” Hansen said coldly.

All you saw was the large hand that pulled the handgun out, pointing at Dyson who still sat in the chair where he’d been sitting the entire time. You saw the bastard’s finger at the trigger. Fast as you could move, you jumped in front of Dyson’s chair just as the shot rang out.

The room spun around you violently, as hands grabbed you. Dyson’s. Your husband’s. You saw your blood splatter the front of Dyson’s shirt and tie, more gore on top of Neal’s, as he watched in horror. It felt like someone punched you in the shoulder really, really hard.

There was a blur of activity in that moment all around you, but you weren’t aware of anything but the pain that was starting to come on and the sound of your husband dropping to his knees behind you. Crimson bloomed at the front of his white dress shirt and his hand flew to his chest as he went down.

Yes, you’d been shot.

But fear and guilt choked you to realize your husband took the brunt of it.

“Steve!” you screamed.

PS: Just on my fic posts, I’m adding a tip function. In honor of the kitty we just lost in February, I’m donating everything to our local animal shelter. Tips are not, will never be, and have never been expected. But if you feel so inclined, thank you. 🙏

@valsworldofcreativity @21stcenturywitchcraft @coconutqueen21 @buckybarnesplumwhore @bval-1 @caffiend-queen @candy-and-writing @capsicle-shield @chaoticfiretaconerd @chrisevansgirl @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @coldmuffinbanditshoe @daughterofthenight117 @hv-chw3 @iheartsebastianstanstuff @imanuglywombat @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @justrae9903 @lok1sgrl @lokislastlove @mariaenchanted @marvelouspottering @maxwelllee2020 @nannies-dont-date @nekoannie-chan @nerdwholikesword @notyourtypicalrose @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho @peaceinourtime82 @rainbowkisses31 @rayofdawnworld @richonne4life @rissysthoughts-blog @saiyanprincessswanie @scarletsoldier21-blog @shygirl-000 @supernaturaldean677 @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @team-iron-wannabe-man @titty-teetee @tonib666 @villanellevi @vitamingummies @weebid @what-is-your-plan-today @what-is-your-wish @xoxabs88xox @rosalynshields @naturalthrone22 @marvelovernfan @gotnofucks @nekoannie-chan @capicheleo20 @eralen @helenasmirkedno @samwinter09 @kawairinrin @tinystudentfirepurse @bluemusickid @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @geminievans1 @daughterofthenight117 @sunmoonandbucky @dwights-new-plague @akkinda10 @aubageddon91 @sunflowerstony @jennisahoe @kalesrebellion @candy3002 @tardis-23 @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @cynic-spirit @angstsfordays @tamashigirl @akkinda10 @laurenreadsfics @buckysteveloki-me @justlifethingsx @dancer3205 @shtposting101 @iloveshawnieboi @denisemarieangelina @moonlacebeam @btitannaaaaa @pastathighs @pinkzsugar @lunamyangel @siriusjohnpotter @bababasti @priii @retrxbarnes @norababora @savinasavers @holl2712 @4charmed @janelongxox @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sarcasmoverlordxo @iridescentwafflesauce @ajbunky @dontbescaredtosingalong @candy3002 @joossieisdabomb icrytomuch @buckybuckobucky @nonsensicalobsessions @Bebop282 @onceuponahuntersrealm @crashbarbie @valsworldofcreativity @sunflower-writings @siriusjohnpotter @naelovescandy @rootcrop @traceyaudette @dre6ming @ajdjshei @saraaras17 @broadwaybabe18 @pbeckn26 @ughdontbeboring @terry2227 @beyoutiful9413 @winesex @eclipsxntice @missaprilt23 @Tardisin221bst @Sunflowersoldat @sanfransolomitatm @angrykitsune01 @jesgisborne @lilac-monster @samxira @steverogersismycrush @prettywhenicry4 @lalaooopsie @kboogie98 @captainkimmy87 @lowkeysebby @liecastillo @saranghaey @traceyaudette@ ktrivia @@wintasssoldier @andydrysdalerogers @patzammit

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shy-violet-soul · 11 months

Text

Cassian - A Court of Thorns and Roses

Artist: @rosalynnarts

#cassian #acotar

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shy-violet-soul · 1 year

Text

Too cute

And I can still see it all (In my mind)

All of you, all of me (Intertwined)

I once believed love would be (Black and white)

But it's golden (Golden)

Elriel by @/veig_ on twitter

Commissioned by me and @/steelprincess @/acoracaodefogo @/lunepapillons_ @/oriongansey @/quinlan_fane @/elliearchr @/thisismily @/madeyplace on twitter

#elain archeron #azriel #elriel #elain x azriel #pro elriel

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shy-violet-soul · 1 year

Text

Elain Archeron every day she hangs out with the inner circle:

Elain Archeron the day she says fuck it and runs away with Azriel:

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shy-violet-soul · 1 year

Photo

Too cute!

This way to pie!

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shy-violet-soul · 1 year

Text

Why fic no climb out of my head and lie down in paper? Why must I write fic? ☹

#but dammit

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shy-violet-soul · 1 year

Text

His Inheritance ~ Chapter 28

Part 28: Fatal Trespasses

Series Masterlist

Words: 6.7k

Pairing: Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader

Warnings: References to mob crime families, strong language, physical violence, character death. This is a dark fic. Please read responsibly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clint paused to see Belova’s number on his phone, especially since Steve tossed her out. He understood why his boss did it, he just didn’t entirely agree with it. Belova was young, but she had a lot of potential. She was strong and loyal. Clint had no reason not to trust her.

That, more than anything, had him answering the call.

“Belova?”

“I’ve got a location on Banner,” she said.

That got his interest. “Where?”

Belova gave him the address, an apartment over a dive bar on Stark’s turf. He knew the place.

Neal’s words about Belova falling into enemy hands crossed his mind.

“How do I know you’re not walking me into a trap?” he had to ask.

“I may not be working for the Rogers family at the moment,” she said. “But I still serve Mrs. Rogers. She would want me to relay this information.”

“Yeah, she would,” Clint said. Mrs. Rogers trusted her and considering how she’d supported him and Nat, well, that meant something to him.

“There’s more on Banner,” she went on quickly. “It will be sent to you from an unknown number when this call ends. I hope you’ll find it helpful.”

Clint did too. “Take care of yourself.”

“You too,” she said, ending the call.

Sure enough, the text came through a few seconds later. The attachment didn’t have much to offer about Bruce Banner. But his Senator brother? Clint had to read over it again to make sure he read it correctly. If what he was reading got out, the scandal would ruin the entire Banner family.

How the hell did Belova pull it off?

He and Scott were supposed to carry out their part of the boss’s plan tonight, around midnight. Clint had almost six hours to kill before getting ready for that. Did he trust Belova? Would he find Banner if he went to that address?

Anger for every bruise, every cut on Nat’s body rushed to the surface as he considered the intel he’d just been given. His Nat would need weeks to physically heal from the beating she’d taken at the hands of her husband. The fear she’d experienced in the trap of her marriage would take a lot longer to recover from if she ever did.

Guilt clawed at him from the inside, like an old, wounded beast. He could have put a stop to it. He could have taken her and run. He would have betrayed his loyalty to her brother, his boss. But maybe they’d be somewhere safe right now. Maybe she wouldn’t have terrible nightmares and shadows behind her eyes.

Maybe Steve would have killed them.

No, Clint told her over and over that he loved her. That one day, maybe Steve would change his mind and they could be together as they were always meant to be. And that day finally came. Neither of them dared to ask for more. Steve allowing them to be together was more than they could have hoped for.

But Nat had taken a severe beating to get them to that point. And Steve still wouldn’t have gone to check on her if hadn’t been for his wife’s insistence. Not with everything going on all around them.

He would have given anything to take that beating for Nat. He’d felt so helpless that day when they found her like that in her husband’s house, broken and small. Yet again, Clint had been forced to contain the rage he hadn’t been allowed to express or act on. It had been one of the hardest things he’d done in his whole damn life. And he’d been recovering from getting shot on top of it.

But now, just maybe Belova had given him something he desperately wanted – a chance at some payback.

Steve? Well, Steve warned Banner that he needed to disappear. That the man only made it as far as Stark territory was surely not what the boss had in mind.

Banner never paid any attention to the soldiers outside his house. He took them for granted. Setting up a diversion for the armed guards staying with Banner was just too easy. Within an hour, Clint had Banner delivered to the old warehouse on the outskirts of the city. They often used it for such special occasions.

Slumped in the wooden chair with his hands bound in front of him and a sack over his head, Banner just sat, waiting. Clint would have had him tied to that chair but his arms, shown off by the dirty white t-shirt he wore, showed layers of bruises. They looked as bad as those on the woman he loved.

Clint smiled. It was the least of what the fucker deserved.

When the sack was pulled from his head, Banner’s gaze wildly scanned the room. When he spotted Clint, outrage blended with fear to find himself at the mercy of his wife’s lover.

“What the fuck is this?” Banner asked. His lower lip was cut, a dark ugly scab at its center. One of his eyes was blackened. “Steve and I had a deal.”

“Sure you did,” Clint told him. “You either disappear or you would disappear. But holing up on Stark turf? That’s not really disappearing, is it?”

“And you’re doing this to prove what?” Banner asked, eyeing him warily.

“Got nothing to prove,” Clint told him, taking a step closer.

Banner’s dark eyes hardened in anger. “Don’t you?”

Clint watched the anger that Nat described so many times about darken his face. Banner always seemed so calm, collected whenever Clint observed him during business transactions for the family.

When the two men crossed paths, the anger Clint held in check was always close to the surface. Banner was married to the woman he loved, and the man’s entitlement and contempt made Clint sick inside, like poison. Banner had Steve fooled, painting Nat as pampered but unstable and dramatic. Banner had to know Nat was with him every opportunity they had – and there were precious few times. Bitterness that he could never make Nat love him drove Banner to abuse her, verbally and mentally.

That was bad enough. When Nat learned she was pregnant, Clint came so close to getting her to run away with him. She thought about it. One tearful night, she told him she would. That was the night of the horrible fight Banner had with Nat. The one where Nat was left broken at the foot of the stairs.

She lost the baby. His baby, not Banner’s. That loss haunted her, and she blamed herself. For him, that loss was a wound that never healed, a hole in his heart.

Clint waited, not willing to let the lawyer draw him into a debate. It wasn’t easy.

After a moment, Banner chuckled, shaking his head though Clint could tell the effort physically hurt him.

“Steve’s got his sister back home now,” Banner taunted him. “He’ll even let you take care of her like the good dog you are. But he’s never going to give her to you. Not even now. Not while he can marry her off to benefit the family. You are stupid if you believe that.”

Clint had to give the bastard credit. He always knew the worst thing to hit someone with, how to strike at their deepest fears. He was a fucking lawyer. He’d been doing it to Nat their entire marriage. On nights when Clint was out there in the night, waiting to do Steve’s bidding, he’d reflect on the stories she told him. On the cutting things her husband would say to her.

Clint shrugged. He wasn’t about to play the game.

“Sounds like he already has someone in mind,” Clint lied casually. “Yeah, she needs to heal up. She looks worse than you do. But once she’s on the mend, I imagine Steve will marry her off again.”

The smirk on the other man’s mouth faded. Banner hadn’t expected him to say that.

“What?” was all Banner could say.

Clint folded his arms across his chest, standing over the bastard. “Steve can’t have Nat in his house for long. Not with his own little wife. It’s not an ideal situation. I’m sure you understand.”

Banner’s snort was an ugly sound. “Steve can’t handle his wife. If he knew how to deal with her, we wouldn’t be here, now would we?”

“Sounds like you’re blaming all this on Mrs. Rogers,” Clint pointed out.

“It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?” Banner demanded. “Steve doesn’t usually make time to do welfare checks on his sister. He could handle women just like I handled his sister. Until he married her. I showed up at his house and that little bitch met me at the door. I knew it was her that sent him to my house. She wasn’t even trying to hide it.”

“Then you get why Steve can’t let Nat linger.” Clint tried to keep the emotion out of his voice, to sound like he didn’t care.

Banner’s mind looked to be going a mile a minute. Anger flashed in those dark eyes as he studied Clint hard.

“I hope she gets what she deserves,” Banner’s tone took on a hint of bitterness. “Honestly, Nat played you and me both. She didn’t love either one of us… Ungrateful bitch.”

Clint’s fist flew before his mind could override it, striking Banner’s unbruised eye. Banner somehow managed to stay in the chair, a grin on his face when he returned his gaze to his rival.

“I knew you were full of shit,” Banner called him out.

“I’m full of shit?” Clint demanded. “I’m not the one that’s cast out, am I?”

“I served Steve well,” Banner shot back. “He couldn’t have had a better consigliere and he made a mistake. A huge mistake.”

Clint didn’t like the way he said that with a sly grin playing along his split lip.

“Now he’s got another consigliere,” Clint pointed out. “He’ll be fine.”

Banner dropped his head, shaking it in frustration. What was he not saying? That Banner was still bitter about how his marriage ended? That was obvious. But somehow, he didn’t think that Nat was the sole issue here. Why had Banner still stayed close by?

“Something else you wanted to say?” Clint asked meaningfully.

It pissed him off that Banner was now trying to ignore him. It had always pissed him off that Banner considered himself better than Clint. But that was nothing compared to how he’d treated Nat, the woman he knew Clint would die for.

Anger rose as Clint grabbed a fistful of Banner’s hair and yanked his head back sharply, making the man look at him. And Banner did look him in the eye, pure defiance flashing in those cold depths. But he wasn’t saying anything.

With his left fist, he punched Banner in the nose. The second time he felt the cartilage give beneath his knuckles. Blood gushed from the man’s nose, but he stoically kept silent. Clint struck his chin, his injured eye. Banner muffled his cries of pain, fighting to be silent.

The glee Clint expected to feel at such a moment just wasn’t there. Banner wasn’t begging him for mercy. He wasn’t cowering as Clint imagined he would. That meant the fucker had some hope he was hanging onto. He thought about Banner’s senator brother.

“Counting on your brother to save you?” Clint asked, smirking. “I wouldn’t count on that.”

Clint released his hair. Banner held Clint’s gaze. “Yeah?”

The bastard didn’t look concerned. Yet.

“Yeah,” Clint said. “He’s going to go through some things.”

Banner looked only mildly concerned. “Is he?”

Pissed off, Clint leaned down to get in his face. “You’re not worried about that girl that died on your brother’s boat last summer?”

Banner rolled his eyes. “Why should I be?”

“Someone out there knows her death wasn’t an accident,” Clint informed him. “And they have proof.”

Of all the things he expected the fucker to do, laughing wasn’t one of them. It irked Clint so fucking much, he reared back and punched Banner again, the blow knocking him off the chair. Banner was still laughing.

Trying not to let frustration best him, Clint turned back to one of the two men he brought with him, silently watching from behind him. “Give me those pliers.”

Clint didn’t take his eyes off Banner, gripping the metal tool once it was placed in his hand. The man trying pull himself off the floor with his hands bound before him did look less amused. His dark eyes were on the pliers Clint held.

Wait. Banner wasn’t worried at all about his brother’s scandal, the only reason Steven didn’t make him dead for what he did to Nat. But he was worried about the pliers.

“Put his ass back in the chair,” Clint told his men. He watched as they rushed over to Banner and none-too-gently hauled him back into the chair. “Tape him to it.”

That had Banner’s attention. Wildly, he watched as one of his guys pulled a thick roll of duct tape from his pocket. Pulling up a strip, it made a loud familiar sound.

“Wait,” Banner was worried now. “What are we doing here?” They started taping him to the chair and Banner was shouting “hey!” and “stop!”

It occurred to Clint that Banner wasn’t worried about his brother’s potential scandal. That was in the future. He was worried about having his teeth pulled out of his mouth one by one in the next few minutes. The time frame…

“What did you do, Banner?” Clint moved closer once his guys finished taping him to the chair. “What’s coming?”

Banner was silent. Now he was scared. Holy fuck. What was going on?

“Hold his head,” Clint ordered.

Banner shouted “No-no-no-no-no-no-no!” Smart enough to know what was going to happen.

Grabbing Banner’s upper lip, he pulled it painfully back from the man’s teeth.

“You know something,” Clint told him. “For every minute you don’t tell me, I’m pulling out one of these pearly whites. Got it?”

Banner didn’t immediately speak. Clint took the pliers, using them to grip one of Banner’s upper front teeth. Thrashing in the chair, Banner grew more desperate by the second, drooling and yelling “no!” at turns while Clint’s men held him steady.

“What’s coming?” Clint asked.

“I d-don’t know,” Banner managed around the tool and with Clint holding his lip. “Don’t!”

Clint pulled the tooth out with a quick yank while Banner screamed, thrashing in the hold of his men. Blood flowed from the hole where his tooth had been, from his nose, and his eyes were wide when Clint tossed the tooth casually away.

“Let’s try this again,” Clint said calmly, fear of what he didn’t know battling with the satisfaction of torturing the miserable fuck.

Clint aimed for the other front tooth when Banner cried, “Wait!”

He paused, but he didn’t move the pliers. Banner appeared desperate.

“Barnes knows!” Banner yelled.

Those two words had Clint taking a step back, taking the pliers with him. “Barnes knows what?”

Clint was all too afraid he knew the answer to that.

“Everything!” Banner cried. “You pulled my fucking tooth out!”

At Clint’s nod, his men stepped back. He got in Banner’s face again.

“What do you mean everything?” Clint wanted to know. “You been a rat all along, Banner? Is that it?”

“Hey, I’m not the rat,” Banner told him, blood filling his mouth.

“Then how do you know anything about Barnes?” Clint didn’t like this. Was something going to happen tonight? Had someone told Barnes all about their plan. This is bad. “If you’re not the rat, who is?”

Banner was shaking his head, blood running down his face, staining his clothes. Forcefully, he spat out blood.

“They’ll kill me,” Banner told him, worry flooding the man’s expression.

Clint had to laugh at that.

“What do you think I’m going to do?” Clint demanded. “You were just handed the woman I love, and I had to watch that shit, all these years. I got to watch while you betrayed her, laid hands on her.”

“Betrayed her?” Banner yelled. “She betrayed me! She never gave me a chance. I was her husband. I would have done anything for her. And she didn’t care. She was off fucking you every chance she got. Faithless bitch!”

“I will pull every goddamn tooth out of your head if you say another fucking word about her,” Clint promised, waving the pliers in front of his face. “What does Barnes know and how does he know it?”

“I wasn’t involved with any of it… until Steve broke off from Katerina,” Banner said after a moment.

And that was before Steve got married.

“Paulina’s sister, right? The one you’ve been fucking?” Clint asked.

Banner spit at Clint in anger, the bloody lob barely grazing Clint’s shoe. “I wouldn’t have fucked anyone else if I have a loyal, loving wife.”

“What did I say?” Clint’s grip tightened on the tool in his hand. “And?”

“After Steve cut her off, Kat took up with Barnes,” Banner explained.

Clint was already shaking his head. “Kat wouldn’t have known anything,” Clint told him. “Steve wouldn’t do that.”

“But I did,” Banner admitted. “One night I got to Paulina’s place and Kat dropped by. Barnes was with her.”

Holy shit.

“Barnes wasn’t trying to get me to rat anyone out,” Banner explained slowly. “But he made me an offer.”

Clint was sure he did. “What offer?”

“Barnes told me he was looking for a new consigliere,” Banner said, defiance shining in his dark eyes. “Everybody knows Petruzello is going to retire soon. Hell, he’s been with them for decades… Barnes told me he could use a guy like me. He saw me for my talent. Saw how I was being treated over here.”

“How you were treated?” Clint’s voice rose. “Are you fucking kidding me? What were you fucking lacking? You had Nat and she’s all I want in this world. You had a beautiful fucking house, nice cars, nice whore. Lot of money. Explain it to me.”

“You know what else I had?” Banner grumbled. “I had competition. And no matter how many fucking times I begged Steve to get rid of your sorry ass, he refused.”

“But Barnes was willing to, right? Is that why I got shot?” Clint shook his head, barely holding his rage down. “You must have been so fucking disappointed that I lived.”

“I was.” Banner’s glare stayed on him.

“So then what? In your anger, you beat the shit out of Nat? Is that it? You took it out on her?” Oh, something Clint said had angry color flooding Banner’s face. “Am I wrong?”

“I wouldn’t have laid a hand on my wife,” Banner said indignantly. “Not without good reason.”

“There is no good reason to hit a woman,” Clint shot back. “Never… It also wasn’t the first time.”

“How would you have felt?” Banner yelled, struggling with the tape holding him in the chair. “It was bad enough that she cheated on me with you. She never got fucking over you. Then she turns up pregnant… I completely lost it.”

The back of Clint’s hand flew, sending Banner’s head spinning. But he wasn’t backing down. With an angry glare, Banner said, “You think you would have done better? If it had been my baby, you wouldn’t have done the same?”

It took everything in him not to just shoot the bastard. Banner knew Nat was pregnant and he knew it wasn’t his. Rage clouded his mind but as he blew out an exhale, Clint tried to focus. The pregnancy had been the reason he’d beaten his wife the first time.

Why did he do it the second time?

“Did you agree to beat Nat that night for a diversion?” Clint asked him calmly. “Because the very next day, Steve called a meeting of the families. The very next day, Hansen attacked Steve’s house. He tried to take Steve’s wife. And that was your job, wasn’t it? You beat Nat to try and draw Steve out. Barnes would have known Steve only leaves the house now for business talks. Am I right?”

The corners of Banner’s mouth tipped up as he glared at him. The answer to Clint’s question was in that self-righteous smirk.

Barnes wanted Steve’s position that badly. They’d underestimated him.

“What was in it for you?” Clint had to know. “Besides taking over as Barnes consigliere. What?”

“What the fuck do you think?” Banner shot back. “The plan was for him to take Steve off the board and you with him. I’d be his new consigliere and Nat would be mine. No more interference from her brother or you. She would finally, totally be just mine.”

Swallowing back the sting of bile in the back of his throat, Clint stared him down. “Is that the plan for tonight, Banner? Is tonight Barnes’ second shot at it?”

But then it occurred to him, Banner had been tossed out. He wasn’t there when they made the plan for tonight. He had no way of knowing what was coming down. Not while his only ties left to the Rogers’ family was Paulina.

The bullet came out of nowhere, piercing Banner’s forehead and sending his head sharply back.

Clint dropped the pliers and hit the floor as another shot from behind him hit one of his men in the head. Fuck! Finding cover behind a stack of shipping pallets, Clint pulled out his .45 and began trading fire with whoever the hell it was. The other soldier he brought with him stayed behind him.

Popping up, Clint fired shots at where he thought the shooter must be. One of his bullets found the target, the rough cry sounding familiar. The sound of retreating steps had Clint sprinting in that direction, trying like hell to see who exactly who the fucker was.

If it wasn’t the rat in their family, and Clint suspected it was, it was one of Barnes men. By the time Clint reached the old rusty warehouse door, whoever had been there was gone.

Clint’s mind spun. Barnes was coming after them tonight. His first responsibility was to get to Steve and let him know they were in a world of shit right now.

His heart had him making a different choice. With shaking, blood-covered hands, Clint pulled out his phone and called Nat.

“Clint?” She still answered the phone quietly, as she had the last several years when no one was supposed to know they were talking. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, baby,” he assured her. “But we have a very big problem right now and I need you to do something for me.”

“Okay,” she said.

“When I end this call, I’ve got to tell Steve that we’ve been ratted out,” Clint explained quickly. “Barnes knows what we planned and that puts all of us in danger.”

“Oh my, God,” she whispered.

His heart squeezed in his chest. His Nat had been through so much.

“I don’t want you to worry about that,” Clint told her. “I want you to go get your sister-in-law. Right now. Get her out and take her to your mother’s sewing room. I need you to promise me you’ll do this as soon as you get off the phone.”

“Clint, I’m n-not dressed,” she said in a shaking voice. “I’m in pajamas—”

“You’re not going to take the time to get dressed, baby,” Clint said firmly. “You’re going to do what I tell you. Get the two of you in there as fast as you can. Okay? Do this for me?”

A moment passed. Finally, she said, “Yes… I’ll go now.”

“I love you,” he told her. “Always remember I love you so much.”

“I love you,” she said through tears. “Please stay alive. I can’t l-lose you now.”

Clint didn’t know what they were facing. He really didn’t.

“You won’t lose me,” he told her. “Now go. Get to that room and stay there.”

“Clint!” His other man yelled to get his attention as he pocketed his phone. “Incoming. Look like Barnes’ men.”

Taking a deep breath, Clint got ready for whatever was coming. And he had every intention of getting back to Nat.

***

The sound of the key rattling in the doorknob of your room pulled your attention from the book you really weren’t reading. It was a little early for dinner but maybe Dyson had a reason for arriving early. You knew the family had plans tonight. Dangerous plans.

You didn’t expect Nat to scramble into your room like a scared mouse, swallowed by the dark green bathroom she wore over her pajamas. Her eyes were wide, and fear reflected from those depths.

Something was very wrong here.

“Nat?” You rose from the bed, and she dashed over to you, her hands twisting around the old-fashioned ring of keys like nervous birds.

“Clint called me,” she whispered. “H-he said something about us being ratted out and… he wants me to come get you and take you to my mother’s sewing room.”

“What?” You didn’t understand. “Nat, slow down. Is he talking about—”

“Please,” she begged you. “He wouldn’t have told me to do this if things weren’t really, really bad. We have to go.”

You were shaking your head.

Nat was trying to pull you by the arm. “Why are we going to your mother’s sewing room?”

“Please, just come with me,” Nat begged.

“Okay,” you told her. “Just a minute.”

You wore a sweater with jeans, quickly pulling on a pair of ankle boots. You sprinted for the closet, pulling out the cloth bundle that concealed the handgun Dyson left you. Slapping a loaded clip into the 9 mm, you shoved the other clips and boxes of ammo into a tote bag, carrying it out with you as you went back to Nat.

Her green eyes were wide on the gun in your hand. “How do you have that?”

“Dyson,” you told her. “Let’s go.”

Instead of leading you down the stairs to the rest of the house, Nat led you the other way. You passed her bedroom, the other guestrooms. She stopped in front of what you thought was a linen closet. She opened the door, and the neat shelves of bedding and towels confirmed your suspicions. When she pushed a button on the wall, the shelf and the wall behind it moved, sliding away to reveal a small chamber behind it.

A secret room?

Nat pushed another button and the shelf and wall slid back into place, closing the two of you in a darkened room that was about the size of a child’s bedroom. In her defense, there was a small table with a very old sewing machine on top of it sitting off to the side and a dressmaker’s dummy next to it. There were cobwebs everywhere, like no one had been in the room for years. There was a small oval window, filtering sunlight to brighten the room.

“Oh,” Nat said, kneeling by the sewing machine and pulling a box from under it. There was a small oil lamp and a cigarette lighter. Setting it next to the sewing machine, she lit the lamp to brighten up the room around you.

“So, a sewing room?” you asked, tucking the gun in the waistband of your jeans at your lower back.

Nat nodded. “It really was once. I think our grandmother or great-grandmother actually sewed in here.”

“With a secret door?” You smiled.

“That was put in later,” Nat explained. “By my father. I guess something happened when we were kids that got him thinking. He decided we needed a room that no one else knew about in the house to hide. You know, us and Mom. Sometimes whatever illegal thing he wasn’t supposed to have. He was very proud the feds never found it.”

You nodded. That made sense. But you really needed to know what was going on.

“Okay, now that we’re here,” you spoke quietly, “what did Clint say? What’s going on?”

Taking a seat on the padded bench seat by the sewing machine, Nat took a deep breath. You didn’t like the way her hands shook in her lap.

“He just called me and told me that we’d been ratted out,” she told you. “He said Barnes knew our plans and that put us all in danger.”

Shock and fear had you staring at her. Dyson told you that those plans were dangerous to begin with and now Barnes knew them? You’d all been ratted out?

“Wait, he told you to get to the sewing room?” you asked.

“No, he told me to come get you and for us both to come here.”

Things were serious then. Fuck.

“Did Clint tell you anything that was planned?” you asked. “Anything at all?”

Nat shook her head. “I wouldn’t understand if he did. I’m just so afraid… if something happens to him., I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“Try not to worry,” you told her. “Clint’s not going anywhere now that you’re together.”

Her lips quivered like she wanted to smile but was afraid to.

“I hate this,” she said quietly. “I always have. This business they are in. I know it’s how I’ve had a roof over my head and all the nice things I’ve had in life. But it’s so terrifying to know it can all be gone in the blink of an eye. I remember sitting in here with my mother and Steve a couple of times when we were kids. It wasn’t just knowing we were in danger. It was not knowing anything.”

Your parents had been part of that world too. You’d been spared that. Everyone thought you were disfigured, kept off to the side because of it. If you’d ever been in any danger before Steve came into your life, you weren’t aware of it.

Now? You understood it.

“We know some things,” you told her. “Apparently someone ratted us out. I have a pretty good idea of who that is.”

“Who?” she asked.

“It’s Neal,” you told her. “I’m sure of it. I don’t know how or why but it’s him.”

Nat snorted. “For all we know, it’s Bruce.”

“It’s possible,” you told her. “He probably has a hand in it. I mean, we know he has a link to Barnes. Kat and her sister.”

Her green-eyed gaze never left you.

“But, no offense, he’s a lawyer,” you told her. “He might have gone to Barnes when Steve got you out of that house. But what does he really know that would benefit Barnes? He’s not a soldier. Not part of their plans… But Neal?”

Just the thought of the damage the man could do flooded your mind. He would have been part of planning whatever was supposed to happen tonight.

And Neal was flagrantly ambitious and arrogant. The way he conducted himself in your household with everyone but Steve? Especially you. What would have happened with Banner that day if Scott and Yelena hadn’t been there?

Clint was right. Everyone was in danger. Jesus. You had to think.

“Where was Clint when he called you?” you asked.

Nat shook her head. “I don’t know. All I know is that he said he and Scott were ‘running into town’ tonight. And that was when he left this morning.”

You didn’t miss the fear in her tone.

“Did you bring your phone?” you asked her.

Nat pulled her phone and a charger from the pocket of her robe. You smiled when she handed it to you.

You tried texting Dyson first but got no response. Steve? You weren’t going there. He needed to have his head in the game and think you were safely tucked away.

Luca answered when you texted him, thinking you were Nat. If you could get him up there, to trust you, he might have the information you needed.

Luca: What you need, hon?

“What’s something you’d normally ask for, Nat?”

“Tea,” she told you. “But not for a couple of hours yet.”

Can you bring my tea up early, please? My nerves are bad today, you typed.

Luca: Sure. Give me bout 15 minutes.

Fifteen minutes exactly, Luca came up the stairs with the tray. He’d just reached her bedroom door when you approached him from the other direction. Luca’s dark eyes were wide on you.

“Shit,” he muttered.

You motioned for him to follow you. His expression was a study in reluctance, but he followed you back to the linen closet, waiting for you to open the door to the hidden chamber. Nat stood up when the two of you walked back in.

“What’s this?” Luca asked, handing the tray to Nat and focusing on her.

“Nat just did what Clint asked her to,” you told him. “He called Nat and told her to come get me and for us to come here. He said we’ve been ratted out.”

Luca scrubbed a hand over his lower face, concern bleeding into his expression. “Seriously?”

You nodded. “We don’t know where Clint is. Dyson wouldn’t answer me.”

Luca’s gaze on you was a wild mix of uncertainty and dread. You understood the position he was in.

“I’m not sure where Clint is,” Luca told you. “Dyson? Here in a while, he’s supposed to be meeting Neal. Something to do with Hansen.”

Your anxiety was consumed by fear then. “What? Oh, my God. Luca…” You took a deep breath, trying not to let fear get the better of you. “Luca, if Clint’s right and we’ve been betrayed, and I believe him, who do you think the rat is?”

“Just because you don’t like Neal doesn’t make him a rat,” Luca said calmly.

“I wasn’t there for tonight’s planning session,” you said. “But I’m guessing you were. If we’ve been ratted out, it had to be someone in that room. I know it’s not you or Dyson. I know it’s not Clint. Who else was there?”

“Scott and Neal,” he said.

“Do you really think Scott would do that?”

“Fuck,” Luca muttered, his answer telling you he didn’t believe any more than you did.

“Wait, where’s Steve?” you asked in a panic.

“Locked away in his study with the new consigliere.”

Nat set the tray with the tea on the floor at her feet, riveted to the conversation.

“He just got a new lawyer.” You shook your head. “Do you know him? Could he be a problem?”

“Nah, Murdock’s good people,” Luca told you. “Besides that, he’s blind so…”

If Luca didn’t suspect anything there, you’d trust his judgment.

“Where’s Scott?” you asked. Any of Steve’s trusted circle could be in danger right now or worse.

“Scott and Clint are supposed to be heading this way in the next couple of hours,” he said. “To meet with Steve about their part in this.”

“From the way he sounded, I don’t know if Clint will be there,” Nat whispered.

Steve and Luca were safe. You didn’t know where Clint and Scott were. And Dyson?

“We have to find Dyson and Clint,” you told him before turning your attention to Nat. “Clint called you first, to tell you there was trouble. If Steve’s down there meeting with his lawyer, Clint didn’t get in touch with him which means he’s in trouble.”

Nat’s face crumbled and you hugged her, eased her back down onto the padded bench.

You and Luca both tried Dyson and Clint, you on Nat’s phone. That he wasn’t answering Nat had your fear escalating.

When Luca’s phone rang, he answered immediately. “Scott? Hey, where are you?”

You couldn’t make out what Scott was saying. Luca nodded, mouthing “he’s fine.”

“Do you know where Dyson or Barton is?” Luca asked him, shaking his head.

“S’alright. I need you to get over here,” Luca told him. “Now.”

Luca ended the call, looking from Nat to you. “Scott don’t know where anyone is… Listen. You two need to stay right here, okay? I got to get to the boss and let him know we have a situation. We gotta find Dyson and Clint right fucking now.”

Nat buried her face in her hands, crying. You met his gaze squarely, nodding. Luca had trusted the two of you on what you knew. You were grateful.

“Stay in touch with me,” you told him.

“Will do,” Luca said, making his way out of the sewing room.

There was one more call you had to make. You knew Yelena’s number by heart. You didn’t know if she would recognize Nat’s number or if she’d answer, even if she did.

On the fifth tone, someone answered. “Natasha?” Yelena’s accented voice whispered.

“No, it’s me,” you said.

“You’re already out?” There was a pause then. “I’m so sorry about—”

“I am so sorry about what happened,” she said in a rush. “I’m so sorry—”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” you cut her off. “But we’ll talk about that later. Are you safe? Dyson said you were safe and with friends.”

“I’m safe,” she told you. You could hear the smile in her voice. “I promise.”

“Do you have any idea where he is right now?” you asked.

“Dyson? No,” she said. “Why? Is something wrong?”

You heard the same fear you felt in her words. “Yes, and we don’t know where he is. Or Clint.”

“Clint?” Yelena asked. “I talked to him earlier. I gave him some intel on where he could find Banner.”

Oh, shit.

“Can you give me the location?” You needed it. “He might be in trouble.” You told her how he called Nat and what he’d said.

“Where is Neal?” Yelena asked.

“Not sure, but I’m told his part of the plan was to go with Dyson to see Hansen,” you explained.

“Neal is the traitor,” she said gravely.

“I know. And we can’t let him kill Dyson.”

“We won’t,” she assured you. “Does Steve know?”

You had to laugh at that. “He soon will. Luca’s going to talk to him.”

“Let me know the second you get any leads on Dyson,” she told you. “We will go find Clint.”

You didn’t know who we were. But you trusted her.

“Thank you.”

“Stay where you are,” she told you. “With Nat. For now.”

You couldn’t promise her that, but you also didn’t want to mess with her head.

“I will,” you said. “Please be careful.”

***

Yelena ended the call, walking back into the living room of the little cabin where Dyson had stashed her for safety. Dyson’s friends, who needed a place to lay low from some trouble they found themselves in, were scattered across the room.

Clay and Aisha were watching something on the History Channel, drinking beer and eating popcorn. Pooch and Cougar were still playing cards. Only Jensen looked up from his laptop to see her return.

“What’s up?” Jensen asked.

“Dyson maybe in trouble,” she told them.

And that was all she needed to say. Now that she had everyone’s attention, she filled them in on the details. Like her, there wasn’t a lot they wouldn’t do for their mutual friend.

Clay was a strategist and didn’t take him long to come up with a plan of action.

“Three of us are going to the location where we sent Barton,” he said. “Three of us are going to Hansen’s place.”

She didn’t miss the distaste in his voice when he said the name Hansen. She wasn’t the only one the bastard had fucked with over the years.

“Yelena, you take Pooch and Cougar and find Barton,” Clay said. “I’ll—”

“No,” Yelena cut him off. “I’m going to Hansen’s.”

Aisha and Clay exchanged a worried glance. “You sure about this?” Clay asked her.

Yelena nodded. After everything Dyson had done for her, for all of them, she wanted to be there to protect him if she could. If anything happened to him, it would devastate her.

It would devastate her boss. And Yelena had no intention of having to tell Mrs. Rogers that anything happened to Dyson on her watch.

Clay nodded. “Aisha, take Pooch and Cougar and go find Barton. Yelena, you and Jensen are with me.”

@rosedpetal @sincerelytlh @wolfieeebbbyyy @stories-by-hails

#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x you #mob!steve rogers

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