Fearless Like Us

by Krista Ritchie

  Akara explains, “We were planning on taking you out separately on more formal dates and it’s something we’ve talked about with each other already. But we can do both.”

  I add, “That look was us saying, let’s do both.”

  Sulli’s smile slowly returns. “You both talked about taking me out?” Before we respond, she adds, “I like that.”

  Jealousy isn’t a big beast like before, and if anything, guilt comes stronger. Guilt when I spend more time with Sulli than him. But Akara and I are doing our best to communicate. Stay on the same page. Soothe any bruised egos.

  “We like talking about you, string bean,” Akara teases.

  She kicks the back of his seat for the nickname, but she’s smiling. Until we drive up to the cul-de-sac, the cottage in view under a full moon tonight.

  Quaint. That’s how security describes the Meadows Cottage. But that wouldn’t be the first word I’d pick.

  Welcoming is better.

  Situated in the private cul-de-sac, the cottage looks like Hobbiton or a picture book coming to life. Foliage landscapes the house, and large mismatched stones pave the walkway to the half-glass door.

  Akara parks the Jeep under the portico, and I detach my radio from my waistband, then unclip the mic cord. He keeps his radio on, in case SFO needs him.

  Sulli stares out at the cottage. “Maybe I should’ve called.”

  Akara pockets the car keys. “You never needed to call to spend the night before, and there’s no way your mom revoked that open invitation.”

  She sighs heavily. “Fuck, I wish you both could spend the night too.”

  I fit the radio in the glove compartment. “We’ll be alright in a motel.”

  “Hotel,” Akara corrects me.

  “Whatever he says, since he’s paying,” I say, putting a toothpick between my lips. I give her a onceover. Tension lines her broad shoulders. “You sure you want us to see your parents with you?”

  She nods strongly. “My dad will have to get used to the idea of us being together. I’m not hiding it.”

  The corner of my mouth lifts. She latches onto the way I look at her. With pride and love. She’s someone I’ve wanted to stand beside. The girl who hates loneliness, who rages against sleep, who laughs and jokes and loves and screams when she needs to scream.

  What I respect about Ryke is that he raised a woman like Sulli. She wouldn’t be who she is without him, and while I’m not looking for his respect in return or his approval like Akara—who cares what Ryke thinks—I don’t plan to go in guns blazing.

  Akara isn’t ordering me to behave or keep your mouth shut, Banks. For one, I’m now off-duty, and for another, I do have a filter. Can’t make it in the Marine Corps without biting your tongue in half.

  We unmount from the Jeep, and Akara and I let Sulli go ahead of us. Walking behind, we’re dressed for a casual affair. My mom would shit a fucking brick knowing I didn’t wear my best. Not because Sulli is American royalty needing to be impressed, but because these are my girl’s parents who deserve my best effort.

  Tonight, my best effort is an opened gray long-sleeve button-down, white tee beneath, and jeans.

  Akara’s best effort is a black hoodie under a red Columbia windbreaker.

  “What do you want for your birthday?” I ask Akara. December 18th will be around the corner before we know it.

  “That’s what you’re asking before we see the parents?” His breath frosts the cold air.

  “No time is a bad time except the times that are good times.”

  He laughs into a groan, “Dang, Banks, just when I think you’re tapped out of nonsensical mottos, you pull that one out of your ass.”

  “Came from my heart,” I say quietly, “but you would confuse my ass with my heart.”

  Akara laughs, then says, “Just buy me a six-pack. What you always do.”

  “I can’t get you what I always get you. It’s different now.” Between us, is the unsaid thing.

  He holds my gaze for a stronger beat, and then the porch lights turn on while we’re walking towards the door.

  They know we’re here.

  I’m guessing we triggered their motion sensor cameras. Can’t even pull off a secret arrival with modern-day technology.

  My boots hit the front stoop just behind Sulli.

  The door swings open.

  A tall blonde with shoulder-length hair fills the doorway. Green eyes, the same emerald pools as Sulli’s, are on us, then on her daughter.

  “Sulli.” Daisy’s radiant smile pulls at an old scar along her cheek, and instantly, she draws her daughter into the tightest hug. They sway playfully side-to-side in the embrace.

  When they pull back, Daisy brushes her nose with Sulli’s, and I watch Sulli exhale in relief. She hugs her mom another time, and then asks, “You’re not upset that I just showed up?”

  Daisy frowns. “No. This will always, always be your home. You can show up whenever you want. I want you to.” Her eyes flit to me and Akara. “And I see you brought your devilishly handsome boyfriends.” She wags her brows at her daughter.

  Sulli blushes at either handsome or boyfriends.

  “Ma’am.” I hold out my hand.

  Daisy grins. “The formality of it all.” She grabs my hand and does one strong shake, like something you’d see in The Parent Trap or at summer camp. “I’ve known you for years, Banks. You can call me Daisy—not Duck, not Duke, and definitely not Buchanan. I’m a Meadows.”

  She’s the youngest of the Calloway sisters, only in her early forties, and tabloids say she’s the sun to Ryke’s shadow. I’m hoping she’s doused him with fuckin’ light rays and magma since the last time we encountered his dark cloud.

  And I hang onto something Daisy said:

  I’ve known you for years, Banks.

  Not in the same way as Akara. I’ve just been that bodyguard attached to a Hale.

  “Daisy,” I correct. “How are you?”

  “Better now that I’ve seen Sulli in one lively piece.” Her eyes glitter against Sulli’s green orbs. Daisy turns her gaze onto Akara, and her smile shifts a fraction, not disappearing completely. “Akara.”

  “Daisy,” Akara nods. “Is Ryke still ready to rip out my jugular?”

  She seesaws her hand. “It changes daily, honestly.” She opens the door wider. “Enter at your own risk.” Her brows wag again, and I see where Sulli gets some of her playfulness.

  Sulli guides me and Akara inside her messy family home.

  Her parents obviously aren’t strict. My dad would’ve wrung my neck if I left dirty dishes and mugs out in the living room. Blankets are strewn messily over a window nook. Pillows are piled on a hammock (I see where her love of pillows comes from)—and green potted plants are everywhere. Even dangling from the ceiling.

  I duck to avoid head-butting a hanging fern.

  Hell, as much foliage exists inside as it does outside. With the open floorplan, the kitchen is visible from the living room and I realize no one else is here. A rerun of the original Charmed plays on the TV, and I only recognize the show because it’s my mom’s favorite.

  Sulli scans the room. “Where is Dad anyway?”

  Daisy rounds the kitchen counter where a mixing bowl is sitting out. “With Winona outside.” She looks more hesitant at me and Akara. “I don’t recommend going out there.”

  The dark cloud must still be a dark cloud.

  “Recommendation appreciated,” Akara says while pushing his black hair back and fitting on a baseball cap. We all approach the kitchen stools.

  I nod a couple times. “We’re not hard up to get screamed at today. We just stopped by to drop Sulli off.”

  Daisy gasps at Sulli, then smiles. “You’re staying?”

  She didn’t bring a bag since her old room here still exists, clothes left in drawers. “For a couple nights, if that’s okay…” Sulli breathes.

  Daisy frowns, pouring a box of Crispy Rice cereal into the mixing bowl. “Of course that’s okay.”
<
br />   “But Dad—”

  “Will be totally fine,” Daisy finishes. “Don’t worry about him. Just live your life how you want to live it, and if that life drives you back home for a couple nights, then all the windows and doors are open for you to fly through.”

  Sulli smiles softly and slides onto a stool. Akara and I stay standing.

  Daisy opens drawers, probably trying to find a spatula. She’s constantly in motion. “You both are welcome to stay too. The more the merrier.”

  As soon as the words leave her lips, the backdoor opens. Bad timing is something I’m getting used to, but this just takes the motherfuckin’ cake.

  Ryke Meadows stiffens, jaw hardening and eyes narrowing on me and Akara. What I know about Ryke extends years back on security and Google searches on the internet.

  Nothing as personal as Akara.

  “Bow chicka wow wow,” Daisy smiles to her husband.

  Flirting isn’t clearing away the cyclone that’s rage-fucking over his head. “They’re not staying, Dais.” His voice is cement.

  “A couple nights,” Daisy counters. “Just while the penthouse is being cleared of any bugs.” She pours Crispy Rice into the palm of Sulli’s hand.

  “How do you know about that?” Sulli asks, chewing on the cereal.

  “Your Aunt Rose.”

  My brother’s mother-in-law. Queen Rose is what Loren Hale mockingly (and I’d like to think lovingly) calls Rose Cobalt, but fuck, it’s fitting considering she hears all. Gossip in my rowdy family would’ve traveled just as fast.

  Ryke glares at me. Why the hell am I the target of his anger right now?

  Maybe it’s my height. Being the tallest in the room, I stick out like a beanstalk he clearly wants to chop the fuck down.

  Ryke grips the counter. “I don’t fucking care if the penthouse is on fire. They’re not staying in our house with our daughters.”

  “It’s okay,” Akara easily slips into the conversation. “We didn’t plan to stay.”

  “Thank you for the offer, Daisy,” I add. Gotta remember my manners or my grandma would cluck her tongue all the way from South Philly.

  No kidding, after my politeness, I swear Daisy mouths, cutie patootie, to Sulli, who I’m 100% positive whispers poorly, hottie patottie, back. They share a giddy smile, and Akara is near laughter, stealing Crispy Rice from Sulli’s palm and throwing them back in his mouth.

  Wish I could delight in my “hottie patottie-ness” but I can’t.

  Because Ryke Meadows is burning a motherfucking hole through my head. Murder is on his mind, and I stand guard, not shying from his glare.

  His face hardens. “Get the fuck out of my house, Banks.”

  Akara and I share a confused expression. Since when did Akara get crossed off his hit list?

  “Dad, they don’t have to spend the night,” Sulli says quickly. “But can they at least stay for an hour or thirty fucking minutes? Dessert, maybe? I want you to get to know them better.”

  Daisy twirls towards her husband. “Sounds like a great idea.” She slips her husband a look, and he meets her eyes briefly.

  Ryke crosses his arms. “Okay.”

  “Okay?” Sulli rocks forward excitedly on the stool, her elation infectious.

  I smile.

  Ryke sees it. “But just Akara stays. Banks can go.”

  It’s a kick to the face—my smile is gone. I expected him to shove me out, but for a second there, I held a morsel of hope.

  Sulli gapes. “What? You barely know Banks. Wouldn’t you want him to stay so you can get to know him better?”

  I lock eyes with her dad again. His intense stare doesn’t hold a candle to my strict dad. And Sulli is right—he doesn’t know me. But I know about him.

  I know he’s a child of a nasty divorce like me.

  I know he hates blue-blooded, silver-spoon-wielding WASPs like me.

  But unlike me, he grew up in the upper-class, upper-echelon of society. He attended an Ivy League with his family’s money. If I had it, I’d use it too, but I’m not even fucking sure Ryke Meadows has stepped foot in the kind of places I grew up.

  I talk more to Sulli. “Akara has more in common with him anyway.”

  Ryke drops his arms, brows knotting. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He sounds antagonistic.

  Be polite, Banks. “It doesn’t matter, sir.”

  “Yeah it fucking does. Say what you mean to say.”

  Akara backs up and stands beside me. His friendly, concerned gaze makes me want to walk more recklessly, because I know Akara has my six. Even if I detonate this bitch.

  “Cross the Schuylkill River”—sounds like skoo-kel from my mouth—“and you hit Chestnut fucking Hill where Akara grew up.”

  Also, where Farrow lived as a kid.

  I point towards the northwest. “Multi-million-dollar homes that match the ones around Villanova, where you grew up.” I lift a shoulder. “Respectfully, that’s all I meant.”

  “Respectfully?” He cringes. “Cut the fucking bullshit.”

  “Ryke,” Daisy nudges him. “He just has manners.”

  “No, he’s a yes, sir kid,” Ryke says to me. “Always told what to do. Can’t speak his mind outright—”

  “No, sir,” I cut in heatedly, “I’m a kid who was raised by a bunch of women who taught me to never utter a disrespectful word to those older than me. Especially people like my girlfriend’s parents. So excuse me for not cursing you to hell and back.”

  Ryke goes from a boil to a low simmer. “Sorry…” He exhales hotly, then looks to his wife, which helps him soften a little. “I thought you were being smart with me.”

  I have said “respectfully” in a smartass way plenty of fucking times, so I understand why he popped off at me.

  Sulli holds out her hands like we’re all standing on thin ice that could shatter at any uneasy step. “Are we okay?” She climbs off the stool, and Akara and I instantly look at her ass.

  Ryke is set to boil again. “Get the fuck out.” He points at the door.

  We ignore him. “Sulli,” I call to her in concern. We weren’t checking Sulli out, even if she has a smoking ass.

  Period blood is seeping through her jeans.

  “What?” Her brows furrow.

  Akara tells her, “You’re bleeding.”

  “Oh fuck.” She looks between us. “Is it bad?” She turns around so we can examine her ass better, and I’m fucking aware her dad is watching us inspect the blood stain.

  Daisy mentions something about tampons and leaves for upstairs.

  “It’s pretty bad, Sul,” Akara says.

  “Really? Fuck.” She makes a worried face at us. “I just put a super-plus tampon in like an hour ago.”

  I chew down on the toothpick. “It’s gotta be the birth control. You’ve been bleeding since you started it.”

  She sighs. “I’d let my gynecologist know, but she has a habit of ghosting my emails.”

  “I’ll text Farrow,” Akara takes out his phone. “He can refer you to a new gynecologist.”

  She tries to relax. “My periods aren’t usually this fucking heavy either.” She sighs. “At least the cramps have been mild so far—knock on wood.” She secretly and lightly knocks on Akara’s dick without her dad seeing.

  If Ryke noticed, a blood vessel would burst in his eye, and his eyes only carry a severe case of rage right now.

  Sulli turns more towards the kitchen. “Dad,” she says to the stone statue that is Ryke, “at least I’m not pregnant. Fucking yay?”

  He swallows hard. “You’re sleeping with them?”

  Akara clamps a firm hand on his mouth, looking to me like we’re fucked.

  Welcome to our knucklefuck shitshow.

  Neither of us turn away or close our eyes from the train wreck.

  And Sulli mutters, “Uh, fuck, I thought…I thought you inferred that when Banks said the whole thing about touching me at the quarry…shit, fuck.”

  “I didn’t want to jump there, Sul,” Ry
ke tells her.

  “Well, now I guess you fucking know that I lost my virginity.” She grows a little hotter and defensive. “Don’t worry, I’ll spare you the details of which guy took it.”

  Akara and I try to hide our peeking smiles just hearing Sulli stick up for herself.

  Ryke rakes a hand through his hair. “It’s your body, your choice. I wouldn’t tell you who to sleep with, and I’m fucking sorry if you thought I would.” He sounds sincere and attempts to calm. But his nose flares.

  He looks fucking tortured.

  Who knows what’s going on in his head? He could be standing there, thinking about how I’m six-seven, tall and big and his daughter was a virgin.

  Christ.

  I hope he’s not picturing me hurting her.

  Ryke exhales a rough, pained breath. “I love you, sweetie.”

  “I love you too, Dad.” Her voice is softer.

  “I’m just having a hard time…” He holds out a hand, unable to even produce the words. He seems relieved as Daisy suddenly returns with a box of tampons.

  “I have these, Sulli. You can go change. I’ll stay with your boyfriends.”

  Ryke looks like he’s fighting a fucking demon just hearing the word boyfriends. His face contorts a thousand different ways.

  “I can change later,” Sulli says. “I’d rather stick around while Dad gets to know the guys better.”

  Ryke’s nose flares again. “Banks is leaving, Sulli.”

  Her face falls. “I thought we went over this already? You know Banks the least.”

  “If you’d rather have Banks stay, then fucking fine. Akara can leave. I don’t give a fuck,” Ryke says, his chest rising and falling heavily. “But you can’t date both of them.”

  “Ryke—” Daisy cringes

  “Dad,” Sulli snaps. “I am dating both of them.”

  “What?” Winona Meadows suddenly appears at the backdoor behind Ryke. And her jaw is on the fucking floor.

  20

  SULLIVAN MEADOWS

  “You’re dating your bodyguards?” my fifteen-year-old sister questions, lips parted and wide-eyed in all her outdoorsy beauty. Delicate faced and thimble-nosed, her dishwater-blonde hair is half up in a bun, and instead of cargo pants today, she’s in floral bell-bottoms.