Wild Like Us

by Krista Ritchie

  I freeze, looking up as my men watch Farrow leave through the doors. “Which bodyguard?”

  “The one who’s already written on my shit list—and if my son didn’t like him so goddamn much, there wouldn’t be a problem.”

  Donnelly. I glare at him on the steps.

  He sinks down on the stair like I’ve just put him in time out.

  “What’d he do?”

  “He tattooed my daughter’s ass. When did this happen and where were they?”

  Shit.

  I know about the galaxy tattoo, but I don’t have all the details Lo’s asking for. I narrow my gaze even more and bring my phone down, muting the speaker so Lo can’t hear. “Donnelly, when and where did you tattoo Luna’s ass?”

  Every head jerks in his direction.

  “This summer.” Donnelly slips a cigarette behind his ear. “I did most of it in her bedroom.”

  “What?” Thatcher glares.

  “Bro,” Oscar groans more, “her bedroom?”

  “It wasn’t like that,” Donnelly defends.

  Banks slides me a furtive look. Yeah, I know that look—the one that says, who are we to judge? We’ve been dating Sulli. And her dad finding out she’s been with two bodyguards, not just one, could be catastrophic.

  But I’d rather take on Ryke Meadows than Loren Hale as the father of the girl I’m dating. Any day of the week.

  I unmute Loren and put my phone to my ear. “It happened this summer, and he tattooed Luna at your house. She requested the tattoo.”

  Loren is quiet on the line.

  SFO are holding their breaths.

  I wait.

  “My kids are young,” Loren says sharply. “Luna looks younger than her age, and she’s a young, impressionable nineteen.” He’s emphasizing these words very strongly here. “My son is a young, impressionable sixteen. My daughter didn’t have a single tattoo until Donnelly. And now my son’s favorite hoagie place has changed.”

  I don’t think Xander ever had a favorite hoagie place.

  Loren keeps going, “Tell him to back off. He’s not their best friend. He’s their twenty-eight-year-old bodyguard. And he’s going to be roadkill if he ever sees my daughter unclothed again. I don’t give a shit if it’s just for a tattoo. I’m not an idiot—I know how that spirals into other things.”

  “It hasn’t, it won’t,” I assure Lo. “Donnelly is professional.” With a few more reassurances, I hang up, and I tell Donnelly, “You’re on Loren Hale’s permanent shit list. You’re not getting off.”

  He nods a few times. “You transferring me?”

  “No. Xander wants you on his detail, and Loren doesn’t want you to leave. But you need to tone down the buddy-guard routine. Just do your job. Don’t take him to Wawa anymore.”

  “He wants to go, though.”

  I sigh. “Just try not to influence him.” It might be hard because Donnelly doesn’t seem to be doing anything. He’s just cool in the eyes of Xander Hale.

  I pick up my beer mug. “Before the meeting ends,” I tell them, “I want to say cheers to your Omega lead.” I gesture to Thatcher who starts to smile.

  Banks, Quinn, Donnelly, and Oscar pick up their drinks.

  “Congrats to Thatcher, for being the second bodyguard to do the impossible and be with American royalty. Can’t wait to be there and see you cry as Jane walks down the aisle.”

  Everyone laughs.

  “Thanks,” Thatcher smiles more, swigging his drink with the rest of us. But as the liquid slides down the back of my throat, I realize a third bodyguard is going to do the impossible and be with another American princess.

  I’m just not sure who it’ll be anymore. Me or Banks. Any way I turn it, it feels like a total tossup.

  42

  SULLIVAN MEADOWS

  October 30th. Hallow Friends Eve. The day I fucking finally free-solo.

  Yesterday, the weather cleared for my final practice run, and I breezed through the route. Every handhold, every path to the top is engrained in my mind. So much so that I could climb Rattlesnake Knuckle blindfolded.

  There is only one thing left standing in my way today.

  The asshole climbers.

  I thought we shook off Team Apex, but they’re back. And they’re placing foldout lawn chairs about a tennis court away from the base of the crag. Close enough that I’ll be able to hear their jeers and heckling while I climb.

  I dip my hands in my chalk bag. Standing at the base of the crag, I try to ignore Team Apex and mentally focus.

  This is it.

  The last day that I can possibly free-solo in the Yellowstone region this year. The last day that we’ll even be here. Grand Teton will have to wait for another time. A cold front is rolling into Montana and Wyoming, and more than the winter conditions, we have to drive back to Philly for the wedding on November 1st. We leave tonight with plenty of time.

  I seriously cannot let Team Apex distract me. If I bail today, there’s literally no other opportunity to complete my goal before next year. I don’t want to stall. I feel like all I’ve been doing is stalling out of safety, and I just want to climb.

  Besides the unwanted campers, only Akara and Banks are my spectators. I called Moffy this morning because I honestly wasn’t sure if the weather would hold up enough. And I didn’t want him to fly back here just for me to pull the plug. He understood, but I could tell that he wishes he were with me.

  It made me feel good that he’s still thinking of me. That being physically away again hasn’t wiped me from the minds of the people I love.

  I chalk my hands another time.

  Akara and Banks whisper behind me, and my stomach does twists and turns whenever I remember the end of the trip will mark the end of whatever we’ve been doing. And I’ll ultimately have to decide between them.

  Concentrate, Sulli.

  I smack my hands together, chalk pluming. I shake out my arms, then realize they’re both fixated on Team Apex.

  Akara catches my wrist. “Wait before you climb, Sul.”

  I frown. “What’s the plan?”

  “We kick their asses,” Banks tells me strongly. “Then you climb that big rock.”

  “What are you gonna do, just walk up to them and say fuck you and deck them in the face.”

  “Yeah.” He bobs his head. “Exactly that.”

  Akara detaches his radio on his waistband. “You’re not going to be a part of the ass-kicking, string bean. Just stay right here.”

  I scoff. “I’m a lover, not a fighter anyway.”

  And I want to maintain absolute focus on my climb. Revenge might derail me. It’s definitely set me back more than once this trip.

  Akara smiles, flinging my hair at my face. “There’s my Sulli.”

  My Sulli.

  I instantly smile. “Go be my Kits, Kits,” I tell him, “and kick their asses.”

  He bows, then picks up my hand, kisses my knuckles. “Will do, m’ lady.”

  I shove his shoulder, and he smiles more while Banks is vigilantly observing Team Apex. But I notice how his eyes flit to me in a strong pulse of sadness.

  I haven’t chosen yet.

  I didn’t just pick Akara, but I can understand him thinking I might be on the road there.

  “Did they make hot cocoa?” I question as Lincoln pulls out a thermos like they’re ready to watch a new theatrical release.

  “Fuck them,” Banks says coarsely.

  Akara marches forward, signaling Banks to follow, and I stay at the base of the crag, watching my bodyguards charge Team Apex.

  Gaining distance on them, Banks approaches hotly and smacks a cup out of a hand. Hot cocoa goes flying.

  “Hey, we have every right to be here!” Jordyn yells.

  “Come back later,” Akara sneers. “You know what you’re doing. That’s life or death for her.”

  “She’s choosing to free-solo,” Jordyn snaps. “That’s not on us.”

  “Bullshit,” Akara curses. “You’re here to heckle her.”
>
  Lincoln shoots up from his chair and angles towards Akara. “Fuck—”

  Banks swings, and Lincoln goes down like a sack of flour. His friends hurriedly lift him up, his bottom lip already swelling. “Jesus,” one of them screams. “We’re going. Alright. You psycho.”

  “Get the fuck outta here.” Banks feigns another hook and they all stumble to a quick exit. Some even leave behind their chairs as they trip over their feet. Running away from Banks and Akara. But mostly Banks. No one else wants to be punched.

  I smile as they return to my side. “Nice job, Hercules,” I tell Banks.

  He curves an arm over my shoulder. And my whole body sings as his head dips and lips meet mine in the most breathtaking kiss. It’s his hand that steals all my fucking senses—his hand that slips up the nape of my neck to my jaw. Holding my face protectively.

  The kiss feels long but I know lasts only seconds. We break apart and I touch my tingling lips. He whispers, “I’ll be waiting for you down here.”

  I inhale. “Alright.” Why do I not even want to leave anymore?

  Banks looks like he wants to say more. Loving words scream inside his eyes and wail to be let out, but he cages them, his breath rising and falling heavily.

  His staggered breath begins to stagger mine. I never really knew how this kind of love could be written in someone’s gaze before they say the words, but I see them so clearly in Banks.

  “I’ll come back to you,” I whisper.

  It’s a promise that I shouldn’t make, but I’m feeling more than thinking.

  He nods a lot, his lip rising. “Happy Hallow Friends Eve, mermaid.”

  I smile. “Maybe this’ll turn out to be the best one.”

  “Third time’s the charm,” Banks says, and then he glances at Akara, who hangs a few feet back from us.

  They switch spots, and I tell him, “You weren’t so bad back there, too, Kits.”

  Akara takes off his beanie, pushing his hair back. “Well, I would’ve punched that asshole, but now I’m waiting for the lawsuit.”

  I forgot the bodyguards get sued often. Assault charges are common, even if it’s all in an effort to protect my family.

  Banks calls out, “I’ll help you with the paperwork.”

  Akara smiles back. “You better.”

  I try to keep upbeat, but I just see their friendship. It’s good and solid and has history before me. I hope that it still survives after me too.

  They might choose each other.

  Maybe they should. Maybe that’s how this all needs to end. But my insides feel crushed with weight even imagining going back to the start. Losing the romance and love I’ve longed for.

  Akara focuses on me. “Concentrate. Don’t let me or Banks or any nagging thought distract you up there.” He cups my cheeks. “Okay?”

  I cup his face with my chalky hands. “Okay.” I tap his face, creating handprints.

  He smiles, then drops his hands, kissing my cheek. “See you, lover.”

  See you, Kits.

  I can’t even say the words. My mind is on the ascent. My path. My route. I’ve rotated back with a clear head, and I breathe in and grip the first handhold of rock. Pulling my body up with my muscles, I ascend.

  I move fast.

  Precisely.

  My limbs know what to do and where to go, and I just go. Wedging two fingers in the tiny fissure, I find a better foothold and shimmy up the crack that widens with every twenty feet. Until I’m over two-hundred feet off the ground, and I can fit my whole body in the fissure. I do a split and shake out my arms. Balancing all the weight on my legs.

  And I glance down.

  Akara and Banks are specs in the distance. Wind whirls, but it’s not too gusty. I smile up at the last two-hundred feet of ascent.

  What my dad once did.

  I blow out a breath and keep climbing.

  Fear is nowhere to be found when my confidence has propelled ahead. Dousing all reservations. I push harder to make better, faster ground, and when I’ve reached the top, I pull myself onto the ledge of the peak and stand up.

  Feeling how small I am in this big wide world, I take a seat on the highest ledge. Not afraid of heights, I look every which way.

  And I try to picture my dad up here in his young age. “I did it, Dad.” I’m more excited to call him, to tell him everything, when I know I should also be soaking in the moment. My smile flickers in and out.

  I can barely make out Akara and Banks waving up at me.

  I wave down to them, but their voices are inaudible.

  And I look up at the clear blue sky. I stare out at the gorgeous mountain ranges, and I glance at the emptiness beside me. Then back down at the people waiting for me at the bottom while I’m alone at the top.

  Climbing four-hundred feet has never felt so far away before.

  It shouldn’t fucking feel like that.

  This was a goal I completed. An achievement. A pump-my-fist-in-the-air success.

  I hate this loneliness. This was the exact opposite of what I thought I’d feel once I free-soloed. So I stand up, grab my rope that I left here for the rappel down, and I step into my harness.

  All I want to do is run into their arms.

  43

  AKARA KITSUWON

  We’ve been on the road for hours, and Sulli’s mood hasn’t lifted much since she descended the rock. Not even as we packed up all our gear and left Yellowstone. I thought she’d be happy after free-soloing Rattlesnake Knuckle. She killed it in under thirty minutes, and that half-hour felt like a full century.

  Banks and I were barely breathing. Like maybe for every breath we held, we could give her more. When her feet touched the earth again, I surrounded her first, and she looked like she was about to cry.

  “Sulli,” I whispered, my heart hurting seeing her that upset.

  All she said was, “I thought it’d feel differently.”

  I hugged her.

  Banks hugged her, and I tried not to get in my head at how long she really hugged him. It’s good that he’s a source of refuge and comfort for Sul.

  So good.

  Very good.

  Not a problem at all.

  I tap the steering wheel, taking glimpses of the rearview mirror. Just to see Sulli in the backseat. She’s been staring solemnly out the Jeep’s window. Quiet as ever.

  From the passenger seat, Banks glances back at her too with the same heavy concern as me. I didn’t know what she meant by I thought it’d feel differently, and she was too upset for me to press her on it.

  Night has now descended, and the only noise comes from the forest-green Jeep as Booger bumps over potholes on the poorly paved road.

  “Sul?” I call back. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  She rests her chin on her knees. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

  “Try us,” Banks replies.

  “I just thought…” She exhales a heavier breath. “I just thought it’d be a powerful moment, being up there after free-soloing. A spot my dad once free-soloed too, and it…it wasn’t. It was fucking lonely, more than any speed-climb I’ve done. And I guess I’m used to getting out of a pool after an achievement and being near people. Even running through a finish line, I can turn into another person’s arms—up there, I was just alone.” She says the word from her core, like it’s full of a cruel nothingness.

  Like it’s worse than death.

  I’m used to being on my own. More than Sulli or Banks. After my dad died and my mom left for New York, I just had myself to go home to.

  Being alone isn’t an unfamiliar concept to me, but I’ve built my whole life around a team of men. Around protecting a girl 24/7.

  Around people.

  Banks and Sulli have never known life without companionship, and I’ve been constructing something close to that so I don’t have to go back to a life without it.

  So I’m never really alone anymore.

  She adds softly, “Maybe it’s because I put pressure on the free-sol
o to feel something rather than look at the times and my speed. I don’t know…”

  I swallow hard, her hurt pushing through my sternum. “It’s okay for things not to work out exactly how you planned,” I remind her. “I know it’s hard, but sometimes pivoting turns out better than you expect.”

  “Like you did with security?” Sulli knows my goal wasn’t to be in security work. But my gym wasn’t an instant success, and I needed money and a backup plan.

  Turns out the backup plan was almost better than the goal.

  “Yep,” I say. “Just like me and security.”

  Banks nods, then tells her, “Hang on to the moments you did enjoy. Fuck the rest.”

  Her lips begin to lift a little. “I like that slogan. Fuck the fucking rest.” She leans back, crossing her legs on the seat. “The climb isn’t the only reason I’m bummed.”

  I adjust my grip on the steering wheel. Tension stretching in the knowingness of the silence.

  Red flush ascends her neck. “It’s over once we’re home, right? I have to choose.”

  I nod slowly, my muscles stiff. “We can’t really keep up this bachelorette thing in the city, Sulli. People will figure it out.”

  Banks adds, “I can’t keep a secret from my brother for that long.”

  “Alright.” Her voice is small. “I’ll figure this out, I fucking promise. I’m not trying to string you guys along.”

  We both assure her that we understand.

  My muscles are tensed, palms sweating. How do I relax when I could be going home and losing her?

  Bank runs a hand across his jaw, then his leg, looking back to Sulli. “Are you leaning one way or the other?”

  “I mean, honestly, I go back and fucking forth all the time.” She covers her eyes. “And I just think, W.W.F.M.J.”

  I make a face in the rearview. “What?”

  Banks pops Skittles in his mouth. “What Would Farrow Moffy and Jane Do?”

  “It’s missing a D,” I tell him.

  She peeks out a smile. “No, it’s Wise Words from Moffy and Jane.” She leans forward as Banks offers his pack of Skittles. She takes a handful of candy. “I think about what advice they’d give me if they knew what situation I’m in. I think Moffy would just ask me how I feel a lot, and Jane would tell me to make a Pros and Cons list.” She tosses Skittles back in her mouth.