𝟑𝟒

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(a/n: I realized all my notes at the beginning of the chapter are all bOring, so I WONT BORE YOU ANYMORE. HERE: pickles. Snack on them as you read. And please enjoy.

skip if you want: I finished jane eyre bro, and ngl, kind of disappointed. Don't get me wrong. the writing is immaculate and has inspired so much of my own writing...but as for the plot? nah fam. I like me some smexy wattpad men and enemies to lovers. THANK YOU VERY MUCH.)

Chapter Thirty-Four

"We need to talk later."

Those were the give last words Carter had spoken to Rannia. Rather blindly, he'd said them--unaware of the panic they'd instilled within her chest. If he'd discovered her identity, he wouldn't wait to talk about it with her, she'd just be dead. But otherwise, what in the fuck did he want to talk about?

She hated it. She hated it so much.

She hated that she didn't just not care anymore. Because she did care. It mattered now. What if Carter was hurt? Would Rannia even allow herself to help him?

It was a little weird, how her feelings towards him had developed. Familial. Platonically.

It was strange what dick could do to a girl. It wasn't that he was at times bad, but mostly mediocre; it was more a matter of the way he treated her. It made her regret hating his family so much. And that regret made her hate him even more.

She needed to end this. She needed to end it now, or soon. Before she tore herself apart.

It was the Amir's fault, making her feel like this. Conflicted.

Without hesitating a moment, she rapped her knuckles hard against the door. It was the same as the first time she'd come here: herbs and flowers decorating the front porch and garden; a display of treated green grass; then, at last, the sound of feet nearing the door, next followed by the smiling face of Romina.

"My dear, how lovely to see you!" Romina gushed, opening the door wider and inviting Rannia in. "Now, what can I help you with?"

Rannia stepped inside, ignoring the hungry nerves biting away at her heart with each moment more she spent before Romina. Romina was soft and sweet, kind and loving. She reminded Rannia of her own mother in a way; it was that motherly love, the softened stare that could cut through your worries like a knife. Was it so wrong to feel that from someone she was supposed to despise?

"I forgot some of my things here," Rannia told Romina. It wasn't far from the truth. Truthfully, she had left things there: a suitcase with her special equipment kept hidden under the bed in Carter's room. She'd forgot them there in her scramble to adjust to the constant changes in her life. It seemed so long ago. Them moving into Mykel's suite, and then going to the Amir's workplace.

Rannia followed her words by a little shoulder shrug, grimacing as pain tore through her body at the movement. She wasn't superhuman. The bullet wound was still taking its goddamn time to heal.

"Why don't I get you something to drink first?" Romina offered, heading over to the kitchen. Rannia followed behind and watched Romina's dark windswept hair shine darkly in the natural lighting. "Tea?"

"Tea sounds good, thanks," Rannia replied quietly, offering a faint smile. Her mom would always get her tea when she was sad, wouldn't she? After her brothers were able to go out to school and with friends, she'd have to stay behind. It dampened her mood, despite knowing it was for her safety. For the family's safety.

"Chamomile?"

Rannia snapped her eyes up to Romina. She hated chamomile. "Whatever you're having."

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