Morphine (Complete)

𝟐𝟒

Chapter Twenty-Four

Brat.

Rannia was two steps free of the elevator when a large hand grabbed the back of her shirt and yanked her backwards.

"Stay in the elevator," Mykel instructed, pushing her back again when she moved forward to leave.

"No."

He glared. "There's a serious security threat loose in the building. I don't give a fuck if you get killed, but my brother sure will. Stay here until I get back."

"If I don't?"

Mykel coaxed out a dark, shadowy look onto his face. He tilted his face to the side and peered down at her, hands sliding into the waist of his pants. The sharp glint of the gun at his side appeared. He saw her eyes drop to it, momentarily freeze, and then return to his glare like nothing had happened.

Her tongue darted out across her lip, almost hungrily. Though Mykel was the one with the weapon, Rannia's lack of fear unsettled him, and he felt as if the cards had been flipped.

"If someone other than Carter or I walk down this hallway, you scream and run for help."

"That serious?" Rannia questioned.

Mykel's mind flashed to the memory of his uncle's body bag being carried away in a white van, just a week prior.

"Bet." He slipped a small carry-on knife from his jacket and tossed it at her. Rannia caught it with ease.

Her eyes traced over the small little ditty with a visible appeasement. She flipped the sharp side out and traced the blade along her thumb. Mykel's stomach churned a little at the sight, but when her thumb pulled back there was no sign of blood.

"I'll want that back when I return."

"Sure, sure," she replied unhurriedly, still admiring the sharp steel edge. Her eyes snapped up from the blade. "What? Isn't Carter in danger or whatever? Go."

Mykel grit his teeth and turned in place, ready to stab the nearest person.

Who did she think she was, talking to him like that? And touching the blade like that? She could've fucking cut herself, fucking idiot. Bet she'd seem all so familiar with the knife until it came time to actually use it. Fucking cocksucker.

By the time Mykel found his younger brother bent over a water fountain, his mind was a cold enough place to house an ice cube. His hand came down on the metal fountain and dented it, making Carter jump and spray water everywhere. With a remorseless tug to Carter's ear, Mykel dragged the boy all the way back to the elevator.

He pushed Carter in, and the boy tumbled into Rannia. She caught him, eyes confused as she looked up at him. He was furious. So fucking angry. His breathing hitched with each angry rise of his shoulders. He was tense as a block, brows pulled, fists balled.

When the elevator door pinged open, Carter was quick to run out. Before Mykel could go after him, a small hand caught his sleeve.

"Hey," Rannia uttered quietly. Mykel's neck snapped back to stare at her, nostrils flared and all. She didn't relent beneath his gaze. He felt his knife slip back into his palm and her fingers slowly encased his hand around it. "Don't treat Carter like that, or you'll end up losing him."

Before he could grab her ear and drag her around angrily, she was off, soft feet padding carefully off to the lounge. Her small figure bobbed until she found Carter hiding by a large plant pot. She patted his arm and whispered sweet words into his ear.

Mykel's mind raged, and for a moment his vision flashed to monochromatic—it was deadly silent, no one was moving, no colour etched into the faded tiles of the floor. She turned back for a moment to smile at him, but before Mykel could confirm that there was a smile on her lips, the doors of the elevator shut in his face, and with a strange feeling of weightlessness washing over his body, Mykel collapsed to the floor.