Fearless Like Us

by Krista Ritchie

  “Fuck, yeah.”

  I clasp a strong arm around her shoulders and dip her down to the lounge chair like a dance move. Her breath hitches as I hover over her, our feet stay on the ground, but her ankles rub against me like she wants to lie fully beneath my body.

  I feel the thump thump thump of her heart racing against my chest.

  “Banks,” she rasps, and I fall into the depths of Sulli. Of how she’s staring into me. Like she never wants me to drop her. Like she never wants me to leave, and I want to promise, forever, that even if it’s hard, even if I shouldn’t—I’m staying and holding her against me.

  In another breath, she says, “Kiss me.”

  I bridge the space. No air left between her soft lips and mine. I kiss her gently, sweetly. She might be the crudest American princess, but I remember my manners.

  And I’m not ravaging her in front of her family and my brother.

  She smiles against my lips, kisses me back, then I whip her upward to a sitting position. Her hair flings forward, and she laughs and lightly slugs my arm. The sound abruptly dies when she sees her cousins and SFO staring. Their eyes are detonating on us.

  She scoots a little, almost hiding behind my back. “Fuck,” she mutters to me. “I go from being stick it to them to being a scared fucking turtle.” She exhales a strained breath. “I need to stop turtling.”

  “We can help with that.”

  “We?”

  “Akara,” I call out and wave to the red Studio 9 ballcap he’s wearing.

  In front of everyone, he tosses me the hat.

  I fit it on her. Oversized for her head, the brim falls down to her brows. “Now you can come out, Sulli.”

  She smiles, sitting more against my side and not behind me. I keep an arm around her shoulders.

  Sulli is the first girl I get to call a girlfriend. The only one I’ve ever really wanted.

  SFO always thought Akara would be with her. Hell, so did I.

  I’m the interloper to some.

  To my brother and Jane, I’m just the fool who’ll get his heart smashed to smithereens.

  With flushed cheeks, Sulli doubles-down on our PDA and clasps my hand. “You could use the hat more than me,” Sulli whispers. “The sun—”

  “It’s not a bad migraine.” I try to speak as quietly as possible.

  “You promise?”

  I hold her gaze. “I promise. Cross my heart—”

  “Hope to never die,” she finishes for me.

  I crack a smile. “Ooh rah.”

  She focuses in on my dog tags.

  I’ve told Sulli a little about my deployments. How there were sleepless, hyper-vigilant nights. How when I came back to Philly, I didn’t have nightmares or traumatic stress. I had back pains and knee pains and body aches that made me feel a hundred fucking years old.

  And my head pounded like I bought a marching band overseas and they decided to camp inside me.

  But I know my strengths and limitations. Beat me down until I’m crawling, I’ll still crawl. Being stuck in quicksand, being motionless, horrifies me.

  “Hey, everyone,” Akara addresses SFO and our clients. “Before I get into it, Sulli wanted to say something.”

  Sulli clears her throat, rotating mostly to Jane, Luna, and Maximoff, who share an iron table together with plates of tacos. Bodyguards are seated at the other one.

  “So the three of us had a food fight earlier and all the food is fucking gone, and if you all are still hungry, I can order from a local place or pizza. And I’m really fucking sorry.”

  “I’m sorry too,” Akara chimes in.

  “Same,” I add.

  “I appreciate the apologies,” Jane notes, and she offers a giddy smile to me and Sulli sitting together. “As my brother Tom would say, as you were.”

  Take it back, some vultures here are more like gooses, wanting to lead chickadees into the world. Jane is happy for me like I’m a baby bird dating for the first time. And I am new to relationships, even more than Sulli, who dated the Rooster.

  Only I’m not looking to be pushed towards Sulli without Akara.

  I’m not sure what it’ll take for people to understand that.

  “Thanks, Jane,” Sulli says. “Sorry, Luna, Moffy.”

  Luna lifts her big taco bowl. “I have enough here. I’m okie dokie.”

  “Artichokey,” Sulli finishes with a smile.

  “You-gnocchi,” Luna sing-songs with a grin.

  Sulli fist-bumps the air.

  Luna air-bumps back.

  All’s right in one friendship.

  She zeroes in on Maximoff.

  “I’m good with my plate,” he tells her with a nod, then spoons applesauce to his son on a highchair. “You’re okay, Sul. Just don’t let my dad see the Great Taco Slaughter. He’d convulse.”

  “Oh no way, I’m not inviting Uncle Lo here.” She exhales another breath, like she worried they would’ve evicted her over spilt beef. They love her too fucking much to kick her out of the penthouse.

  Akara snaps a finger to his palm. “Okay, SFO and Maximoff already know what the security meeting is about, and we’re here to catch the girls up.”

  Sulli’s shoulders drop. “God, not another fucking pervert. Please tell me no one’s stalking Jane again.”

  The pervert. I tense, remembering the night I detained a sick fucker that security called Sneakers. Middle-aged, his dick out as he leered over Jane’s bed in the now-burned-down townhouse.

  I blink back the image.

  “No one’s stalking Jane,” Akara assures.

  Jane steeples her fingers. “And no one’s stalking Luna or Sulli?”

  Thatcher pipes in, “No stalkers, honey.”

  The girls noticeably ease.

  “What then?” Luna asks, looking more at her brother. “Is it Dad?”

  “No,” Maximoff shakes his head. “Not dad.”

  Akara cuts in before the guessing grows. “It’s a website that Donnelly found a few days ago. It’s called The Royal Leaks.”

  “Oh…fuck,” Sulli curses.

  Jane tenses, and Luna is harder to read.

  “So far,” Akara continues, “they’ve posted three leaks about Maximoff, Jane, and Sulli, and all have been true. Including the fourth one posted today.”

  Sulli bristles, her head swerving to me. “What leak was about me?”

  “I’d like to know them too,” Jane says with a raise of her hand.

  We all start showing the girls. Thatcher reveals them to Jane, Maximoff to Luna, and Akara passes me his phone. I angle the cell to Sulli, showing her the three old leaks. The patio quiets except for the pitter-patter of Orion and Arkham chasing each other around the tables.

  Her mouth drops. “Birth control?” Her voice is simultaneously quiet but loud. “How’d they fucking know that?”

  Akara answers before I can, “We don’t know yet, Sulli.”

  She winces, and I hug her more against my side and show her the newest leak.

  THE ROYAL LEAKS

  We reveal all the truths about the American Royals. These are verified and come directly from the source.

  ROYAL LEAK #1: Jane Cobalt is planning to schedule an egg retrieval surgery. She’s freezing her eggs for Farrow & Maximoff Hale’s future child.

  #TodaysLeaks #babynews! #AnotherRoyal

  “They’re not even using our correct surnames,” Jane says like she’s investigating the article. Currently, Akara and I are coming up with an ass-load of nothing as Hardy Boys, so maybe Jane can be our Nancy Drew.

  Farrow slings his head back to look at Jane. “To the public, you’re always going to be a Cobalt, Cobalt.”

  “Is it true?” Luna asks Jane. “About the egg retrieval?”

  Sulli whispers loudly to me, “The Seasons are tensing.” The Seasons are what Luna and Sulli nicknamed Thatcher, Jane, Farrow, and Maximoff.

  “Farrow doesn’t tense,” I tell her. “He’s leaning back on his chair.”

  “He definitely looks
concerned, though.”

  “It’s true,” Jane answers with a deep frown. “I haven’t scheduled the procedure yet, and the only people who knew about the plan were Thatcher, Farrow, Moffy, and me.”

  Sulli freezes. “So how did this leak?” No one even suggests The Seasons as options. They wouldn’t betray each other. Those four are close.

  So close that I’d submit an application for Farrow as Thatcher’s New Best Friend. Akara has been fucking ousted of the position since charades night.

  Hell, maybe the fracture started even before then. When we both missed his wedding.

  I tense thinking of that night.

  The patio tenses thinking of the leaks. Everyone knows the answer to Sulli’s “who-done-it” questions can’t be a good one.

  Maximoff is already sitting stiffly like he’s made of iron.

  “Merde,” Jane curses in French.

  I hug Sulli tighter while worry etches across her face. Security threats are our job to handle, but this one is a shot in the fucking dark.

  We have no good leads.

  My brother stands up and goes to his wife to console her. He crouches down to her chair, and they talk hushed together.

  “That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Akara says to Sulli, taking over the meeting again. “Here’s what we know, guys. The four leaks are all true. The tech team couldn’t trace the IP address to The Royal Leaks. We have no idea who’s behind the website, but every leak has one common denominator.”

  “Us,” Jane realizes, wide-eyed.

  Akara nods. “The leaks have all centered around people living in the penthouse. We think the penthouse might be bugged.”

  “Fucking fuck,” Sulli breathes out. “Seriously?”

  “It’s a working theory.”

  “Unproven,” Farrow says easily. “If the house were bugged, it’s more likely a leak about you three would come out.” He raises his brows at me, then Sulli and Akara.

  Sulli isn’t ready for our poly relationship to be blasted to the media while we’re newly together. She looks like a deer in fucking headlights, and I want to protect my Bambi from being run over.

  “Maybe it’s coming,” Maximoff says ominously.

  Fuck.

  Sulli says the word I’m thinking out loud.

  “Right now, this site has zero traction,” Akara says confidently, making sure Sulli hears him. “It hasn’t been picked up by superfans of the famous ones or the general media. It’s just another random site that no one but us here realizes is spitting facts.”

  Luna looks wary. “A site like this could go viral if someone popular boosted the link.”

  Donnelly says, “We’re not gonna boost the link.”

  “Treat the site like you never saw it,” Akara declares, and to the girls and Maximoff, he says, “You can check any new leaks yourself every day, or you can rest assured that your bodyguards will keep tabs.”

  “So what now?” Jane asks. “We find the bug?”

  “We’re compiling a list of everyone who’s entered and exited the penthouse this month. We’ll crosscheck on who could’ve potentially planted a bug,” Akara explains, “but until then, we need to sweep the penthouse. And to thoroughly canvass a place of this size means we’re going to need everyone to vacate for the next couple of days. Is that okay?”

  Luna speaks up first. “That’s good with me. I can stay with Eliot and Tom.”

  Maximoff gestures over to Farrow and his son Ripley. “We’re going to stay with my parents.”

  Jane nods heartily. “Thatcher and I will head back to my parents’ house as well.”

  Everyone turns to Sulli. Mermaid cringes a little, and it doesn’t take the smartest shitbag on Earth to know she’s thinking of staying with her mom and dad.

  I’m here for whichever direction Sulli goes.

  Jane tells her, “Beckett will surely let you stay over with him.”

  Sulli frowns. “I know he would, but maybe I need to go home. I can’t keep running away from my dad.” She looks over at me and Akara. “Would you two be okay coming with me to my parents’ house?”

  Akara and I share a smile, proud of Sulli for wanting to rebuild what exploded, even if it’ll be an uncomfortable shitshow.

  I nod to Sulli. “Pack me up and ship me out.”

  I’m ready.

  19

  BANKS MORETTI

  Akara drives the old Jeep Wrangler down Sulli’s childhood street. With Triple Shield’s security mansions one street over, Akara and I are familiar with this bougie gated neighborhood in Philly. I spent six years living here when I protected Xander Hale. But I can’t remember ever needing to step foot into the Meadows cottage like Akara.

  Been outside, sure.

  Before I pocket my phone, I finally click into the unread text.

  Breakfast tomorrow? I’m free at 0700. – Dad

  I run my hand back and forth over my unshaven jaw. Sulli has two 24/7 bodyguards now that I’m permanently on her detail and Akara isn’t going anywhere. So I could probably swing a morning off work while he’s protecting her—unlike when I was a hot commodity floater and was twisted in every direction like a fucking gold-foiled pretzel.

  Thought I’d miss being pulled and staying on my toes, but I don’t.

  I haven’t.

  Nothing beats being able to protect the woman I love. And having Sulli curl up against my chest at night is better than being stuck in New York City traffic with a Cobalt.

  Reminds me that Akara and I haven’t slept in our apartment much lately. We’ve crashed in Sulli’s room. Her bed. Most of the time, we all just fall asleep together.

  Ryke Meadows is gonna love learning that his daughter is going to bed with two men every night. Not that I plan on telling him intimate shit, but if he asks, I won’t lie.

  Quickly, I text my dad back a few words: Can’t. On-duty tomorrow.

  Any face-to-face talk might actually do damage, I’ve decided, and that’s what I’m avoiding for Akara’s sake. Separation is best. It’s what my dad always wanted anyway.

  He’s quick to reply.

  Another time then. Let me know what works for you – Dad

  I send: K

  He’s not picking up the chill in my response because he doesn’t really know me. We don’t lament about the bad times or good times. We hardly ever text, and the only reason he’s messaging now is because he’s living in Philly again.

  After pocketing my phone, I turn in the passenger seat and nod to Akara. “We’re off-duty?” I need confirmation before I take off my radio. Meeting our girlfriend’s parents at their home means I’m here as Sulli’s boyfriend. Not her bodyguard.

  Same goes for Akara.

  “Yeah. Leave your gun in the glove compartment.”

  I unbuckle to sit forward and unholster my gun. “Shame. I was hoping Ryke and I would draw pistols and duel.”

  Akara lets out a laugh. “You want to go Wild Wild West out there, Banks, let me know. I’ll buy you a cowboy hat with extra rhinestones.”

  “Just make it blue.”

  “Pink,” Akara jokes.

  Whatever, I’d rock it. “Yippee-ki-yay.”

  Sulli leans forward in the back, head between our front seats. “The only duel that’s happening is between me and my dad. So I’m taking that cowboy hat from Banks.”

  “I’d give it to you.”

  She’s too apprehensive to smile, but she puts a hand on my shoulder and a hand on Akara’s shoulder. “No more fucking bloodshed. Okay?”

  “That’s the plan,” Akara assures.

  I bounce my head, but it’s better to be ready for hell than to be gut-punched when Ryke does take another swing. So I’m not expecting her dad to have warm, fuzzy feelings towards me.

  Gun in hand, I remove the round from the chamber, and Sulli watches more attentively. Her dad has taken her to a shooting range before, and the gun he packed for Sulli’s out west adventure, she returned before their blow-up. Only her dad owns firearms, so
she’s now reliant on me and Akara if we encounter another wild animal during hikes, camping, or climbs.

  Can’t say it’s a regular occurrence to cross paths with any. Not like in Yellowstone Country.

  I notice how she watches me safely place the handgun in the glove compartment. “You want your own gun?” I ask Sulli. “That way you don’t have to ask your dad for his.”

  She contemplates for a second. “Yeah…I’d actually really like that.”

  Akara looks back and forth from the street to her, maybe noticing the crinkle in her brows. “Are you scared to shoot a gun after Montana?” Where she shot and killed a cougar.

  “Sometimes I think I might be. What if my hand fucking shakes when I touch the trigger next time, or what if I struggle to even hold the gun?” She slides back against her seat, further away from us.

  Akara catches her gaze in the rearview. “You don’t ever have to touch a gun again, Sul. Banks and I are armed.”

  “Oh hey, I know you two will always protect me.” Sulli slips her arms in her jean jacket as we close-in on her childhood home. “But I don’t want to be scared of anything anymore. Not if I encounter another cougar, not holding a guy, nothing.”

  I glance at Akara. “Sounds like we need to take her out shooting.”

  She sits forward again. “Like…a date?” Her smile reddens her cheeks.

  Akara and I exchange the briefest look that she can’t decipher.

  Her smile vanishes. “Fuck, unless that’s not something you two want to do together. I can just go with one of you?” She sinks backwards and cringes at herself. “Fuck.”

  Akara is smiling. “String bean—”

  “Oh my God, don’t string bean me right now.”

  “You didn’t get rejected,” Akara says with another laugh. “Sullivan.”

  “Well, it fucking feels like I did.”

  Akara asks me, “How does someone reject their girlfriend?”

  “Expertly. Bastardly,” I say, and then I tell Sulli, “I’d very much like to take you on a date with Akara to go shooting.”

  She eases, but still looks confused. “Then what was that look you gave each other?”