Morphine (Complete)

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"Sex might work."

Chapter Eleven

The tear was alone.

It hovered there for a moment, strung between air and gravity. One swipe and it was gone.

Rannia felt the rest of the tear roll off the back of her hand, eyes set straight ahead. Dead ahead.

A lock turned. With one glance at the driveway, Rannia noticed that Mykel's car had returned, but just him.

Narrowing her eyes, she walked forward, head tilted. Mykel rounded the corner just as she did, and they bumped into each other. Rannia found her face bouncing off his hard chest. Her nose hurt.

She recoiled and glared up at him, a new fury sparking up a blaze.

"I'm already upset, girlfriend," Mykel snapped, glaring down at her with the same intensity. He hadn't bothered to back away from her. Rather, he seemed to enjoy being so close to her, right above her, knowing his proximity intimidated her. "Do not test me."

"Where did you go?" She asked instead.

His eyes bulged, even angrier than before.

"I said—" the man took a quick glance behind himself, assuring his mother was gone. Knowing they were alone, he took Rannia by the neck and slammed her against the doorframe. Half her body was pressed against the etched wood, and the rest fell behind, curled in a painful manner. She hissed.

"Do not test me."

"All I asked was a question, brat," the girl retorted, hating but loving his hand clenching and unclenching around her neck.

"You talk a lot for a girl who came over my knee just a night before."

She flushed.

"I did no—"

"Don't speak."

The man pressed his hand up into her jaw, pushing her neck back, exposing her neckline to him. He pushed his face close, so close his breath scanned her warm skin. A deep breath in.

A soft breath out.

"You're nothing, girlfriend. Nothing." His voice was strained with fury. But he was holding something back. Rannia could tell from the slight twitches of his palm against her racing pulse. "God, I fucking hate you."

He groaned out, low and gutturally, pressing himself farther into her. Rannia found herself unable to breathe—not because of the hand at her throat, but the body to her own; the lips to her neck.

"Brat," Rannia whimpered weakly. She wanted to fight back so bad. She wanted to choke him back. She wanted to slip the carry-on knife from his back pocket right into his jugular. She wanted him to bleed out in her arms, but she couldn't.

He was a mental game, and for once, Rannia was not winning the race.

"Don't fucking call me that." He bit down on her skin.

"Fuck, Mykel, your brother, Carter—"

"What will he know, hm?" Mykel pulled back to stare at her with these...these eyes. Open pits of pain. "What will he fucking know?"

"You can't do this to him."

"But I can do it to you."

It was at that moment that Rannia realized something. She didn't have to remain faithful to Carter. Fucking Mykel behind his back would only tear the brothers apart, and with strife came opportunity.

Mykel had never really craved something so much. He'd never felt deprived of something he'd never had.

But that fucking image, that dark fucking fantasy: Rannia's small, writhing below him, naked and sweaty. Moaning his name as he fucked her hard, moaning his name so everyone else around could hear—so Carter could hear.

It had become clear to him on his short trip out of town. Carter had left his shift at the bank after a panicked call about Garcia, and the entire time, the boy hadn't stopped talking about Rannia.

Carter told him that Rannia's smile was quite sweet. He'd gushed about how her dark eyes seemed light and loving when she looked at him.

All Mykel felt when Rannia smiled was distaste.

Carter would never leave Rannia, never. It did not matter how much talking or convincing Mykel did—that which he'd already done much of already—but the boy would never leave the girl's side. It was pathetic.

So, the only way to save one of the few people Mykel actually cared about, he could try to make Rannia leave Carter.

Sex might work. Awesome sex with her boyfriend's brother. It might make her guilty or realize there was more than a boy could ever offer.

Mykel felt his hands run all along her sides, testing her waist, her hips, squeezing possessively.

Sex might work.

Her pulse was racing beneath his hand, throbbing into his warm skin as he restrained her there, completely at his mercy. The deeper, more primal part of him was delighted by the sight.

Prey, a dainty little doe, trembling with his slightest tough, just waiting for him to bite....bite.n.bite down...

A strangled moan left Rannia's lips as Mykel bit down on her collarbone, sinking into her flesh just enough to leave a red mark. He grunted as her hips rotated vigorously against the growing bulge in his slacks, turning him on even more.

No, sex would not work. He would not enjoy the sex with her. She might want to stay just for him. The dastardly girl was already staying at his house in the coming few days. He could definitely see her as a clingy little bitch.

"Do you hear me, girlfriend?" Mykel growled, face low on her skin, lips ghosting the tender skin of his marking.

"All I he-hear is a brat," Rannia managed through lusted breaths, gathering enough reform inside of herself. "Bet you want to fuck me, huh?" She rocked her hips forward, pressing her crotch against his clothed erection, eliciting a raspy breath from Mykel. "Well try me, bitch."

Using his weakened state of arousal, Rannia pushed him off of her, peeling his hand from her throat last, hating the way she wanted it to stay there. She was already in a weak place from her discovery downstairs. She could not be weak around him.

"I'll be in your brother's room."

And she walked away.

Mykel did not meet her in his brother's room. Rather, he seemed to avoid it entirely. Rannia didn't really mind. She used the time to study the calendar dates and put them into her phone. The Amirs were fucking idiots, letting her into their home. 

Carter appeared back home a few hours after then. His eyes held dark circles underneath, haunted by whatever work he'd been forced to do, the work he normally tried to avoid.

When he entered, he tugged off his work tie and threw everything to the floor. He slouched down on the bed and fell asleep a few moments later, shoes still on his feet. Rannia couldn't help but smile at the sight. It was strange to see a boy in men's clothing.

She flipped through her notebook, etching little notes into the pages. Carter slept and Rannia planned. He might have been a good boyfriend if his last name weren't Amir. Rannia might have been a good girlfriend if her last name weren't Romero.

All aside, nothing really mattered.

Rannia shut her notebook and slid it into the suitcase under the bed, covering it with a blanket.

She'd finalized any last details for her remaining stay at the Amir's. After, she would happily go to stay at Mykel's suite and discover weaknesses in his security, and the Amirs?

Well, they wouldn't be too happy.

Busy mourning over the deaths of a few.

**can they just sort of...cancel school?**