One of my many faults as a writer is that I never remember my own characters' names. Nor do I write them down. In the beginning, one of the twins is called Amelia. Now her name is Amy. Don't know when that happened. Let's pretend it's a nickname <3
Chapter Forty-Three
The contempt of defeat crowded his mind as Mykel finished his last round of the gala. The entire building was empty, save a few trampled bodies here and there. Luckily, the gala's location was far removed from the city, and authorities had yet to be called. Unfortunately, this left him and his family alone with an armed killer, one with hands stained with his family's blood.
"Where are you?" He shouted into the empty hall, listening as his booming voice bounced off each wall, each diamond, each fallen pillar. He was standing in the middle of the dancefloor, polished quartz floors mixed with some exotic arrangement of rock. His shoes clicked noisily as he meandered the enormous room. Nothing returned any sound, nothing but the unmoving walls, the crumbled debris, and shattered glass.
Empty.
Alone.
He froze for a moment as cold dread washed over him. Garcia would not have left. This was a golden opportunity to set his entire empire into ruins, and a maniac as conniving as they would know this well. Garcia had not left.
And if they were not in the gala--
It hit him like a truck, hurling his body forward as he raced in the path that he'd sent Rannia traveling a while before. He wasn't sure quite how he'd managed to make his body move so; it was not humane, certainly, with the speed he traveled.
Lives had passed by his hand before. Many lives, many inconsequential to him--no, all inconsequential to him. But killing Garcia would be a first. It would be blood on his hands that held significance to him; not a simple quarry or inconvenience. He'd been looking for this person for many sleepless nights. He didn't just prefer their death, he craved it.
He needed it because someone he loved would not be safe until they were gone.
Ground blurred beneath his feet until he at last reached the final stairwell leading to the vault door. Out of breath, chest heaving, his pace slowed slightly until he reached the metal door. His fist hit metal, ricocheting right back off. He felt not the pain that should have spread through his veins at the impact.
"Mom! Rannia!" He yelled, voice strained. His hands fell against the door, his forearms following suit. His heavy breathing dotted condensation along the cold metal. Briefly, through the thick layers of metal and material, came a hesitant voice. One unfamiliar, probably one of security personnel that'd gone in with his family.
"Yes, yes, it's me," Mykel barked out again. He rapped his knuckles against it again. Please, his heart begged, please, Rannia, be here and be safe. "Who's in there?"
Not once did the condition of his own family pass his mind.
"If you don't have the password--"
His breath caught. Faintly, in the back of his mind, passed a blurry memory of his siblings discussing a password to use if there was an emergency and they needed to know the other was alone. Fuck, and he'd been too busy drowning himself in alcohol, too busy consumed by his phone, too fucking entitled to be bothered.
Karma struck him across the face and he had no choice but to stand there and take it like the little bitch he was.
"Let him in," broke through a voice. Just hearing it eased the raging waves in his chest to a peaceful tide. "Trust me--oh, fuck off- let me just--" After a bit of clamoring on the other end of the door, a few curses, and quite a bit of scrambling, the wheel locking the door turned outwards and it swung open with hisses of gas to reveal Rannia, a few security personnel failing at holding her back, and his family standing at the back of the room. Without a glance at his brother, he immediately embraced Rannia in his arms.
"Girlfriend, you have a knack for ruining me, don't you?"
She pulled back as if his touch stung. Slowly, she traced the side of her arm with her hand, then clasped the end of her wrist with painted nails. He noticed everything about her. He noticed her eyes, dark and glorious. And he noticed how they were tormented, like her soul was being pried of them with blackened claws and the grip of death.
She just allowed a small smile, his small prize for finding her. He drank up every drop.
"Did you find Garcia?"
Mykel's eyes snapped up to Riccard's. Brows pulled into a frown, Mykel shook his head. Remembering why he was there, Mykel subconsciously tugged Rannia's body closer to his and stepped inside, letting the guards close the vault behind them. There was not the same hissing sound as when it had opened.
"I couldn't find anyone. There were a few casualties, but they were all from the trampling crowd. Garcia knows what he's doing. They're not just here for fun."
"I suspected not," Riccard replied, stepping aside so their mother could rush forward and embrace Mykel.
"Mother, please--" Mykel hushed her, softly patting her shoulder as she sobbed into his suit.
"My baby, my baby boy," Romina cried into his lapel. The man's eyes softened a bit and she hugged her back for a moment.
"You can let go now," he told her.
As Rannia watched the scene between mother and son, her heart pulled. Twisting, gripping, and sinking rotting rose thorns directly into the chest she so fervently protected.
Was she ready to take this from the world?
After some persuasion, Romina was pried from her eldest son's arms and stood between Riccard and Amy. Freed from her hold, the half-man, half-beast crossed his arms and cleared his throat for attention.
"Is Father here?" Mykel asked.
Romina sighed and shook her head gently. "No, he had business to attend to," she said.
"And he's been gone for over a day?"
"Yes."
"I see." Mykel paused for a moment, eyes narrowed in thought. He passed a glance towards the people surrounding him: his family, a bad choice he could not bring himself to regret, and a handful of guards.
He didn't trust them.
"Guards, under my order, leave us and scout out the building."
The guards didn't move.
"I said, go," he repeated calmly, only to be met with silence and the spiking of Rannia's heart rate when she realized what she'd created.
There is no hiding now, you idiot. Now face the flames.
"Why aren't you listening?" Mykel demanded angrily, turning to face the immobile guards, fixing his focus on their stiff faces. No reaction. They were waiting for something--
Now. Spark the flame.
"It's funny what money can do, isn't it?"
Mykel turned to face the person who'd spoken. While his brain spun, and his body turned, his heart dropped.
It was something in her stance. An unstable glint in her eyes as her gait shifted uneasily between her legs and her lips tilted into a small smile. The smile was not for him. It was for herself. It was punishment for ever thinking this would go well.
"Rannia, what is this?" Mykel asked, glancing with disbelief between her and the guards, now standing at attention and readily awaiting her next order.
"Rannia, dear?" Romina spoke up shakily from behind them. Rannia tilted her head back to the wide-eyed woman. Romina tried to move forward, but one of her daughters caught her arm.
"Mom, stop," Amy whispered. Her eyes flickered towards Rannia. "Yeah, but Rannia. You're kidding, right?" She offered the girl a smile. The shaking girl.
Rannia was trembling.
"Shut up," Rannia muttered. Her eyes flickered back towards the guards. It hadn't seemed so real then, had it? When she was handing the cash to the guards and whispering her short instructions in their ears. When she'd vowed to herself on another restless night that she'd end what had torn her family apart. Had it? Had it now? Even though no one was talking, Rannia brought her hands to her ears and covered them, squeezing her eyes shut. "All of you just shut the fuck up!"
"Love--?" Mykel tried to say, but Rannia whirled on him with the most furious look he'd ever seen, rendering even him-- not a human, but a monster, quiet to her silent, deadly, croaking torture.
"Don't call me that. Please," she begged, eyes weakening. "Fuck! No." She shook her head, running a hand through it, pulling at the soft strands. "You had no idea, none of you did. Do you have any idea what you've done? You're all idiots! All of you! You!" She pointed at Amy, then Lucy, then Riccard, then Carter, then Romina, then... "You!" She spat out at each person. "Want to know where your dad is, huh?" She barked out a maniacal laugh. It wasn't her anymore. This wasn't her.
But it wasn't Garcia either.
"He's in my fucking basement! Know how hilarious that is? Oh my God, just look at your faces." She continued her uncontrollable laughter, and everyone listened as each half sob broke from her lungs. With every struggling noise that escaped her mouth, another part of her chest withered away.
You were wrong, so wrong. You had a heart. And you what? Ignored it?
Now watch it die.
Like the flip of a switch, she sobered completely, smile falling off her face. An entirely masked expression took over; neither sad, happy, nor mad. It was simply neutral, entirely empty.
The white sheet hiding the massacre behind.
Then she spoke.
"Guards."
---
(a/n: hello, darlings. I've been putting off publishing this because I...I both don't want this book to end, and I also know I won't please everyone with the ending... But, I promised no more tragedy. Maybe my perception of tragedy is warped, but I didn't make this one too bad
I think--
There are maybe three more chapters left. I love you all so much. Stay safe <3)
Pussy out.