Chapter 1
The last thing one could say about Bukarest markets was to call them quiet. They were most certainly neither peaceful nor quiet. Old women shouted at the top of their lungs to get bypassers attention. Middle-aged men yelled catchy selling phrases. Generally speaking, the noisier the market stands, the more clients it gets. People unfamiliar with such aggressive marketing were quickly overwhelmed by the paralyzing buzz. The market felt suffocating, each shout and shove tightening the walls around them.
This particular market was no different.
The air clung to her skin, damp and heavy, thick with the scent of sweat and rotting fruit. She could taste the sharp tang of garlic and onions in the back of her throat, each breath a struggle as if the air itself was alive and pushing against her. Arms and legs jostled her from all sides, the rough texture of woolen coats and coarse sacks brushing against her, adding to the sense of claustrophobia. The market was alive, a beast of noise and pressure, suffocating her with every shout and shove. Cold breaze sometimes moving stalls with an unexpected strength. Most of the people were rushing by the stalls to get out of this place as quick as possible.
Veronica was no exeption.
The day felt a little more shitty than usual. Her head throbbed, and every step sent a jolt of pain through her leg. The cacophony of the market only added to the heaviness pressing down on her chest. This wasn’t her dream job. It wasn't the best paid either. But it was the only one she could do, and pain in her leg couldn't stop her from earning a little bit of money. Maybe later she could buy something for dinner. She heard her stomach groan. Something better than peanut butter and bread. Maybe some fresh veggies. That would be really good.
It wasn’t easy to move with three baskets full of crops and a stiff, aching leg. Veronica was still wondering why she had taken three reminder baskets all at once, as if she hadn't had time. It wouldn't be an easy task just to maneuver them, even without an excruciating pain that was raising every second she worked. People were pushing her from every side. When an older man shoved her to the side with his cane and a bag full of tomatoes, she felt vegetables dangerously rattle. The girl somehow sensed that it was just a matter of time as they would all land on the pavement.
This was true.
She notticed the running boy a little too late to jump back and protect the precious boxes. Seconds later, the boy was still running in the same direction, unbothered by the fact that Veronica and dozens of potatoes and other veggies were lying on the floor.
'Fuck, fuck, fuck…' She tried to put them back into the boxes before her employer noticed something. If he noticed any of his precious products being damaged, she wouldn't get paid. She could almost feel her dream of a decent dinner slipping away.
She focused so much on placing them into the boxes that she didn’t pay much attention to her surroundings. It wasn’t until a half of a box was filled when she noticed a shadow falling on the ground. There was a man crouching next to her.
'Oh, thank you, sir, but you don’t need to do this,' she muttered, not taking eyes from the ground.
'That’s okay,' a raspy voice responded quietly.
A few moments later, when they couldn’t notice anything on the ground, she stacked boxes on each other and turned her face to the man. Stranger's blue irises were already turned in her direction. A strange sensation arose in her belly. His eyes were staring right into hers with a somehow gentle look. His quite handsome face was surrounded by long brown hair and a few days old beard. Even crouching, he seemed tall and very well-built. A stuffed backpack loomed over his muscular shoulder. Despite it being a cold spring morning, he was wearing only a light jacket and red shirt. Well, to tell the truth, he also had gloves and a cap, but she couldn't imagine it protecting from cold.
'Thank you, you really saved my ass,' Veronica smiled, trying to pick up boxes.
After minutes of crouching, her leg wasn’t that easy to work with. A pain stuck here with a new intensity. She couldn't help but groan quietly.
She closed her eyes and tried to calm herself down.
One. Breathe. Two. Breathe. Three-
Suddenly she felt men's hands on her own. Her skin was instantly sent into goosebumps by the touch of the rough material of the gloves. Her eyes momentarily opened and widened as she observed his actions. The weight of the boxes significantly decreased.
'No, please don’t,' she tried to oppose when the man was taking two boxes out of her hands. 'I can do this alone.'
'I’m sure you can, but I can help you.'
She didn't know what to say. Why was the man helping her? Was he trying to get money from her? Too bad, she didn't have any. Was he trying to steal from her? Well… There wasn’t much to steal. Maybe he intended to hurt her? Take her somewhere and….
'I have nothing to thank you with.'
'Hey,' the man said, looking straight into her eyes. 'That's okay; I just wanted to help you. You don't need to give me anything.'
When Veronica led him to the stall, she felt weirdly helpless and touched at the same time. Why was he helping her? Why did he care? Why didn’t he just walk by? She didn't know whether she would prefer him not caring. It just felt too nice to be true. Too nice not to get fucked up.
Fortunatelly, her employer didn’t notice anything wrong about vegetables. He gave her the full payout. Her stomach groaned, but with a note of happiness. She wanted to find the stranger, but it seemed like he was already gone. 'Of course I’ve lost him,' she thought. This day was getting more and more shitty.
She found him a few alleys into looking. He was standing in a small crowd trying to decide which potatoes to pick. Standing next to other people, even slouching, trying not to catch a lot of attention, he still looked tall and athletic. And he was hard to miss in a crowd.
'I wouldn’t recommend buying them here,' she said in a mysterious way from behind. He turned around surprised but smiled lightly when he recognised her.
'What? Did you also carry those?' he joked.
'Haha, funny.' She said, acting like she was offended, 'No, but seriously, I just wanted to thank you one more time.'
'You thanked me a hundred times already, and I will for the hundred times say—' he stopped looking over her shoulder. 'Fuck'
'What?'
'You need to go. Now'
'What? What’s going on?'
At the very moment she also noticed them. Three men in military uniforms were walking in their direction. One of them, clearly looking at the man, was reporting something to his radio. When he stopped, men reached for their guns.
'Run! Now!' the stranger yelled when three opponents started running in their direction.
She froze. For the first time in a situation like that, Veronica felt paralised. Everything happening didn’t feel real. It was like a slow-motion clip. A loud bang followed by screaming of people arose after a man on the left shot. Another loud bang when the stranger huged her with his arm, trying to protect her from bullets. She felt his breath lightly brush her cheek. Air movement he’d created made few strands of her hair fall dawn on her face. He was yelling something. She didn’t understand. Her lungs stopped working, allowing her to take only light breaths. A small whizz followed an inhale. A loud thud of her heart was heard as she breathed out. She just stood and watched as the stranger threw himself into a fight with three armed men.
The second shooting sound snapped her back to reality. She knew what to do. Her trained instincts kicked in. She sprang into action, closing the gap between her and one of the men with determined speed. But the man was ready. He swung the pistol toward her, finger tightening on the trigger. She dropped low, just as the first shot rang out, the bullet whizzing past her ear. Rolling to her feet, she lunged at him, grabbing his wrist. He was strong—stronger than she expected—and he fought back viciously, yanking his arm free with a growl. 'I’m too slow, too weak,' she thought. She needed to get close and find his weak points. Ducking low, she drove her shoulder into his midsection, using the momentum to slam him against the nearest stall. Fruits and vegetables flew into the air. The impact jarred him, and his grip on the gun wavered. Seizing the moment, Veronica grabbed his wrist again, using all her strength to twist it back. He resisted, slamming his elbow into her side.
He also noticed her weaknesses. Her leg. He kicked her right on the knee with all the force he had.
Veronica screamed in pain when tears blurred her view.
The man shoved her away, raising the gun for a final shot. He didn't have the chance to shoot. She surged forward, enduring the pain, her hand striking out in a blur. She caught his wrist, twisting it sharply. The man grunted, his grip loosening just enough. With a surge of adrenaline, she drove her knee into his ribs, forcing the air from his lungs. His strength ebbed as he gasped for breath, and she ripped the gun from his hand. Spinning behind him, she kicked the back of his knee, sending him to the ground. When his face met the ground, she finished with an elbow hit onto his temple.
With adrenaline buzzing in her veins, she turned as quickly as she could to help the stranger. He was managing, but not for long. The situation was changing fast and not for good. She tried to quickly analise situation. One gun on the ground, another still in a man's hand. Not good. One of the men had the stranger in a chokehold, while the other aimed his pistol at his head, ready to fire. He managed to kick an armed man, but it didn’t help his situation. Another shot pierced the air.
She acted on instinct. In one fluid motion, she raised her gun and fired at the man aiming at him. The bullet struck the man's tight, sending him to the ground. With a kick, his gun flew from his hand as he staggered back, cursing in pain. The moment of distraction was all the stranger needed. He drove his elbow into the ribs of the man holding him, breaking free of the chokehold.
She kicked a disarmed man in his solar plexus as her partner nockouted another man.
'We need to get out of here.' She yelled and led him through the narrow alleys.
She was able to run purly because of the adrenaline, and she knew that in a few moments it would stop working. They wanted to get as far, as quickly as possible. Even now she feelt piercing pain in her leg. And it was quickly getting worse.
'I told you to run,' he shouted when they finally left the market.
She ignored him. Her only goal now was to breathe and run.
Brathe in. Two steps. Brathe out. Pain. Breathe in. Two steps. Breathe out. Almost tripping. Breathe in. Two steps.
A few meters later, she couldn’t run any longer. Unconsciously, tears were running down her cheeks. It hurt so fucking much.
As they slowed down, his eyes flickered to her leg, noticing the way she winced with each step. Her face tightened with each step, and though she tried to mask it, the pain was evident in the way she moved. He watched her for a moment, uncertainty flickering across his features. Their eyes met briefly. She shifted uncomfortably, trying to steady her breathing.
Suddenly a loud noise of quick steps on the pavement caught their attention.
She turned around to look at the way they'd crossed just to notice a man she previously knocked down running closer and closer to them. He stopped and raised a gun to aim.
Both of their instincts worked at the same time. The stranger trew himself to protect her with his own body while she reached for the previously taken gun. She shot first. She shot without missing. A man fell to the ground.
It was over.
It was all over.
Her leg couldn’t bear her weight any longer. She fell right to the stranger's arms. His jacket smelled like old, rusting metal and washed cotton. His arms tightened around her chest to help her stand somehow in the right position. His eyes yet again met hers with a worry.
'I’m sorry, let’s go, they still might be after us,' she mumbled, trying to stand on her own.
Few minutes later they found a small, covered by trees square with few empathy seats.
They collapsed onto a bench, breathless and shaking, the world around them fading into a distant hum. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The silence was heavy, but not uncomfortable The only thing her ears registered was the noise of cars passing nearby and their breaths.
'You really shouldn’t get involved,' he said quietly after a while.
'And let you get shot in the head?'
'The people that were chasing me. They are dangerous people. And now, they will be after you too.'
She turned her head in his direction to say something when she noticed a big red stain on his jacket.
'Fuck, you are bleeding,' she striped a jacket out of him before he could resist. Her heart sunk. A big hole was right on the top of his right shoulder. Her head went blank. She’s somehow forgotten everything she was taught. A big lump was rising in her throat. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think or move.
He shrugged her hands out of his body, and his jaket landed back on its place.
'It’s nothing'
She snapped back to reality. 'Think !' she shouted internally. Bleeding wasn’t too strong but intense. A small stream of blood was still oozing from the wound. The bullet must have missed an artery by barely a few milimeters
'You need to go to the hospital immediately.'
A silence fell between them. His face has gone pale. From pain? From fear?
'yeah' He got up quickly, moved away from her, and shifted uncomfortably. 'I will manage it.'
'No, sit, maybe I will call an ambulance.' She reached for her phone.
'No!' he almost yelled
'You will bleed out! You have a bullet still in your arm! You must-'
'I just can't.'
She noticed the way his jaw tightened with each move, the faint tremor in his hands as he tried to adjust his jacket. She desperately tried to find a solution, even if he didn't want to. But why? Panic was raising in her body yet again. Why did she care so much? She felt nauseous. She couldn't leave him like that. She couldn’t let him die because of that. Not like this! Not again!
He looked at her, really looked at her, and for the first time, she saw something break in his eyes.
'I’ve been through worse,' he said, his voice hoarse and a quiet resignation that sent a shiver down her spine
'I live really close. I can try to patch you up,' she spoke.
'No, I-'
'Please let me,' she interrupted. Her voice was filled with panic and anxiety.
'You don’t even know me,' he muttered desperately, not finding any better excuse.
'I’m Veronica,' He blinked, surprised, as if hearing her voice had pulled him from somewhere far away. 'Now you know me. If you tell me your name, we’ll be… something more than strangers, right?'
'You can call me Bucky,' he sighted.