Fearless Like Us

by Krista Ritchie

  The doctor. We’re all caging breath. Orion sniffs Booger’s tire, and I pull him towards us a little more.

  Banks stares at his cell, gaze darkening on the caller ID.

  “Answer it,” Akara urges.

  He does, raising the phone to his ear. “This is Banks Moretti.” He puts a hand to his lips. “June 9th.” His birthday. He must be verifying his identification. He stares at the ground. Nodding. Over and over.

  I can’t breathe.

  Please be okay.

  Please.

  I can’t lose you either.

  He nods once more. Face serious and readied. He often looks primed for everything, and Banks will say he’s equipped better for hell than for heaven, but he’ll run towards both. He’ll run towards anything, as long as he’s not stuck in place.

  “Thanks. You too.” He hangs up, then slips the phone in his jacket, and I reach out and clasp his hand. Banks smiles down at me.

  “You’re smiling—that’s a good sign, right?” I ask in one breath.

  “Yeah, I guess it is.” He inhales strongly. “As far as they can tell, the tests look good.”

  “You’re serious?” Akara questions like Banks might not be telling the whole truth.

  I interject, “Don’t lie to us. Don’t fucking downplay anything—we want to know what’s going on.”

  Banks squeezes my hand. “I’m not lying, mermaid. I promise you two, that’s what they said. He told me they couldn’t see anything of immediate concern. And it’s likely I’m suffering from chronic migraines. I’m gonna have to watch out for things that trigger them.”

  Akara asks, “Are they going to give you anything for the pain?”

  He nods, scrutinizing a guy who disappears in a pawn shop further down the sidewalk. “They’re prescribing me some medicine. It should help.” He slips a toothpick between his lips. “Farrow’s going to pierce my ear too.” He explains the Daith piercing, and he finally begins to smile. “Looks like I’m surviving another year or two, maybe thirty if the Lord doesn’t take me.”

  Relief and joy and love burst inside of me. “Thank fuck.” I fling my arms around Banks, standing on the tips of my toes. He smiles against my neck, and I’m fucking crying tears of relief.

  He reaches out a hand like I do, and we both pull Akara in our hug. He shares the biggest grin with Banks, and we don’t part right away.

  Triad huddle. A safe, happy, and loving embrace that I want to last forever. We keep our arms around each other, forming a literal circle huddle on the sidewalk. Orion hops excitedly down at our heels.

  “Hey, I have your Lord on speed-dial, remember?” Akara tells Banks. “If He tries to take you before you’re an old man, we’re going to have words.”

  Banks smiles. “You’ll have to phone Hell too. The devil has always wanted me more.”

  “I’ll make sure Sulli is with me. She’s a pro at launching meat and sour cream.”

  “Food fight with the devil,” I say into a smile. “I’m in.”

  Knowing Banks is okay should cement total happiness, but the mole is still at large and the condom recently broke. Good news sprinkled with some bad.

  Akara reroutes our banter into a plan. “I’ll go grab the Plan B. You two stay out here with Orion.”

  “Break,” I say like a football player as we split up from the huddle.

  Banks and Akara are smiling, until they face the drugstore. My stomach flip-flops like a fucking pancake.

  Kits leaves, and I watch him go.

  My heart thumps a little harder. “You think he’ll stay with us?” I wonder while Banks stares inside the store, then down the streets.

  He frowns at me. “You don’t think he will?”

  “He never said that he is. I’m not getting my hopes too high.” It’ll fucking hurt worse. Like losing him a second time. Before he can respond, my phone buzzes.

  Caller ID: Nona-Frog.

  After the break-up with Akara, my sister has been Team Sulli. She made me a care basket of sweet treats with Audrey, Kinney, and Vada. Iced cookies, cupcakes, and brownies with self-love sayings like you’re awesome, you’re a badass, you’re beautiful.

  Since this break-up isn’t a typical one, no one in SFO or my family has been angry at Akara. Some sort of expected it. He’s just trying to protect me. And maybe they can see that our love hasn’t disappeared.

  I click into the call. “Hey, Nona—”

  “I need you to come to the Cobalt Estate like…right now. Where are you?” Her panicked voice pricks my skin.

  “I’m close-ish.” Fuck, fuck, fuck. Hurrying, I motion for Banks to unlock the door. I climb into the backseat with Orion and shut it. “What’s going on?”

  “The girl squad is in a pickle. You’re on speaker.”

  “A pickle how?” I frown as Banks hops into the driver’s seat. “You’re on speaker too, by the way. Banks is here.”

  “He’s a nark,” Kinney says from the background.

  “Banks isn’t a nark,” I say, wide-eyed as I picture the kind of trouble these four girls got themselves into.

  “Farrow said he is.”

  Banks shrugs at me in admittance.

  I gape at him. He’s narked before? On who?!

  Xander, I realize the answer to my own question. Of course he would—Xander is a minor. If they found themselves in a truly fucking terrible situation, I think…I’d nark too.

  To Moffy and Jane, at least.

  Winona cuts in, “Please don’t tell any of our bodyguards. This is just between you and Banks.”

  “And Akara,” I add, waiting for him to return. Hurry, Kits.

  Winona gasps. “Wait, wait, does this mean you’re all back together? Sulli.” She emphasizes my name with happiness. She really is Team Sulli, knowing what I want.

  I could say the truth, I don’t know if we’re back together yet. But feeling her happiness is euphoric, and I decide not to puncture it.

  “Get that D!” Vada shouts.

  “Double D,” Winona says, probably with a brow-wag.

  “Took him long enough,” Kinney says, all blasé-like.

  I wait for Audrey to swoon over the line about “love prevailing” or flourishing.

  She never speaks.

  Panic jolts me, and Banks is the first to ask, “Where’s Audrey?”

  “That’s why I’m calling,” Winona says fast. “We just want someone else to check on her. She’s not passed out, but she’s been puking up the party punch.”

  “Party punch?” My brows rise. “Fuck, Nona did you guys throw a party?”

  “It’s her pre-birthday,” Kinney declares, “without her annoying brothers.”

  “Except Ben,” Nona notes. “Ben is here, and he’s not annoying.”

  “Ben’s okay,” Kinney mutters.

  God, I really hope Akara is at the check-out.

  “Are Moffy and Jane on their way?” I ask.

  Winona speaks. “No. It’s just you. I was going to call Moffy, but we all wanted to see if you could come first.”

  Maybe because I won’t be disapproving of the party or too worried. And they must not be too scared about Audrey’s health or they’d for sure phone Moffy, who’d bring his doctor-husband along.

  She called me.

  I’m the first call to speed-dial in a mini-crisis.

  Wow.

  Do I seem like I have my shit together to deal with explosions and fallouts? I mean, I am clearly a hot fucking mess sitting outside a drugstore where one of my boyfriends (if he’s still my boyfriend) is buying me Plan B because my other boyfriend’s condom broke. Yes, this is my fucking life.

  But my sister believes I’m responsible and reliable.

  What’s changed in the past few months?

  I’ve been battling the media and headlines and leaks, and maybe I have proven to people that I’m stronger in the face of those things. More than I even thought.

  Akara exits the store, just as I tell my sister, “We’re on our way, squirt.”
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  “Thank you! We love you!”

  Once we hang up, Akara climbs into the passenger seat with a plastic bag.

  Banks tells him, “Crisis at the Cobalt Estate.”

  Unfaltering, Akara is all confidence and experience. “Let’s go.”

  56

  BANKS MORETTI

  Sun has set, and we drive up on a royal clusterfuck.

  “What the fuck,” Sulli gapes out the window, and I brake to a sudden stop halfway up the Cobalt’s driveway.

  Range Rovers, Bugattis, Mercedes, the most drop-dead gorgeous Ferrari is blocking our pursuit to the mansion. Christ, I’d love to stick my hands in them. Can’t even ogle or salivate over the cars of my fucking dreams when teenagers slam their doors and carry top-shelf booze up to the Cobalt Estate.

  I mutter, “Bet they raided their parents’ liquor cabinet.”

  “There is no fucking way Uncle Connor and Aunt Rose know about this,” Sulli realizes.

  Akara and I are kicked into gear. Alert. Readied.

  “Security cameras should be on,” I tell him.

  “Unless she disabled them.” Akara fixes his earpiece cord quickly.

  “You calling Epsilon?” I ask. SFE will want to know their clients are around unvetted strangers without their parents’ knowledge. Especially after the wrath-inducing incident in the Meadows’ backyard with the T-Bags.

  “Not yet. You said the girl squad don’t want us to nark, and Epsilon will call Connor and Rose.”

  “Fucking rewind.” Sulli peers through the middle seat. “You think Winona disabled security cameras? My sister who values her privacy?”

  I motion to the gaggles of teenagers. “Your sister threw a rager with Bugatti-driving, hundred-year-old-scotch-drinking, gold-shitting teenyboppers.”

  Sulli tries to maintain seriousness, but she snorts into a laugh. “No, Banks—Winona wouldn’t let this many strangers into one of our houses. She’s not Eliot or Tom. And not all her friends look this douchey!” She pauses. “But they do shit gold bricks.”

  Akara smiles but fixes his earpiece cord quickly. “We also didn’t think Nona would skinny-dip in Italy after a dare.”

  “That was different,” Sulli defends.

  “She’s a teenager,” I mention. “She’s gonna fuck up.”

  “Not like this.” We all unbuckle.

  Out of the car, Sulli winds Orion’s leash around her hand, better grip so she’s not losing the Newfie. Skeletal tulip trees line the driveway, and the three of us, plus a puppy, take lengthy, urgent strides up the pavement.

  Our breath smokes the air. We look like a power trio, and teenagers step to the side as we bulldoze forward. I recognize some faces, kids who definitely live in the gated neighborhood. Others aren’t that familiar.

  In the nut-freezing cold, Akara asks one teen, “You here for a party?”

  “Who’s asking?” He hides his bottle of scotch in his jacket.

  I whisper to Akara, “You’re the old fart.”

  “Says the oldest one here,” Akara smiles.

  Twenty-nine and still kicking. Ooh-rah.

  The good news about my migraines has sent me on cloud nine—I have another year with Sulli and Akara, longer, hopefully forever—but I fall back to earth the second we reach the mansion. Frozen fountain in the middle of the circular, crammed driveway, no one is nearing the front door.

  It’s closed.

  Probably locked.

  All these kids are hiking their ass over a six-foot hedge. Their friends boost them up, and more help them down on the other side. Sneaking into the backyard.

  These aren’t guests.

  They’re party-crashers.

  Sulli lets out a worried breath. “Winona.”

  And we run.

  Blood ringing in my ears, legs pumping beneath me.

  “Get outta here!” I yell. “GO HOME!”

  “COPS ARE COMING!” Akara shouts at the top of his lungs, and the teens loitering around the fountain suddenly shriek and scatter.

  Sulli outruns us, but I catapult myself over the hedge first. With one sweep, we’ve entered wealthy teenage debauchery.

  Jesus, Mary, fuck.

  Top charting songs blast through outdoor speakers. Crushed beer cans scatter the patio. Sloppy teens splash in the heated pool and cackle (not looking to see if they’re clothed). Liquor bottles and white powder line an outdoor bar, and more drunken teens surround an outdoor fire pit and spritz lighter fluid.

  Winona.

  Kinney.

  Audrey.

  Vada.

  Ben.

  Is Xander here?

  Pulse pounding, I try to take inventory of the youngest kids in the famous families. I don’t see a single one right now.

  I help Sulli over the hedge, and Akara lands beside me. He reaches for Sulli’s other hand. With the puppy safely under her arm, she drops to the ground. Not letting Orion loose.

  “Winona!” Sulli shouts.

  “Winona’s not here right now,” a beanie-wearing guy mocks, “call back later.”

  Sulli looks sick.

  I rage forward and fist his shirt. He drops his beer. I growl, “Where is she—so help me God.”

  He cranes his neck, wide-eyed up at my six-seven height and skull-crushing gaze. “…get off me.” His voice breaks. He pisses himself. Literally, and I let go, feeling marginally bad. They’re trespassing. Still, these are a bunch of kids to me.

  My brother…

  Skylar.

  He was like these kids. Drinking in excess. Just trying to burn off some kind of steam that’d been building, thanks to our strict dad.

  Seeing fifteen-year-olds reminds me how young my brother was—how much life he never got to live.

  I’m not here to take anyone’s life away. But I am here to protect five, possibly six, young souls. Plus, my girlfriend who’s my client.

  Nothing can happen to Sulli.

  “Party’s over!” Sulli calls. “Everyone leave!”

  No one moves.

  Akara draws my attention to him. “You focus on finding Winona with Sulli. I’ll secure the backyard.”

  That, I can do. I nod.

  Akara asks Sulli, “You have a key to the house?”

  “Yeah.” She whips her macrame backpack around, then lets Orion on the ground.

  Akara eagle-eyes the stereo speakers. “Before I call SFE or Connor and Rose, I have an idea. I’ll be gone five minutes tops.”

  I nod to him, “Stay frosty.”

  “Keep her safe,” he says before jogging past the pool.

  “Oh my God, that’s Luna Hale’s dog!” a girl squeals. She squats beside the energetic Newfie and snaps a selfie.

  “Hey, stop,” Sulli snaps.

  “Oh…sorry. I just love Luna.” She pats the Newfie.

  Sulli picks up Orion protectively. “Don’t touch him.”

  “Jesus, you’re acting like I kicked him—Luna wouldn’t care. She’s cool.” The girl makes a snotty-nosed face at Sulli, like she’s the “uncool” one.

  “You don’t even know Luna,” Sulli refutes with heat. “Just leave her dog alone and fuck off.”

  Go, Sulli. I almost smile.

  The girl spits out, “Slut,” and trots away fast.

  I glare at her cowardly ass, then touch the back of Sulli’s head in comfort.

  She’s a little ruffled, still searching for the key to the Cobalt’s. “And suddenly I’m really fucking glad I was homeschooled.”

  “Amen—”

  “LEAVE!” Vada Abbey shouts though a kitchen window. Gap-toothed, a BMX rider, and daughter of Garrison & Willow Abbey, she’s the least famous of the girl squad.

  “WE DIDN’T INVITE YOU!” Kinney Hale yells next, safe beside her friend indoors.

  “Come out and say it to our faces!” someone taunts.

  “YEAH, COME OUT HERE!”

  “WHY ARE YOU HIDING?!”

  The cackling is fucking shrill.

  Sulli tenses.

 
; I zero in on the sliding glass door. “Your sister.”

  Winona is inside. Safe. Except wrath is in her eyes. And she starts unlatching the lock from inside.

  “No, Nona!” Sulli shouts.

  We race toward the door with the puppy. I yell, “STAY INSIDE!”

  These kids are hyenas. Waiting to bum-rush Winona and take the party inside the place they’re forbidden to go.

  Right as we reach Winona, she slips outside. “Akara!” I shout. He’s right next to the stereo speakers some meters away. Unable to hear, so I yell in my mic. “AKARA!”

  Quickly, he abandons whatever he was doing and jogs towards us.

  “GET OUT!” Winona screams at the top of her lungs, launching herself towards the gathering crowds.

  I grab onto Winona’s shirt while I use my other arm and body to block about ten guys from rushing into the house.

  Sulli tries to restrain her sister. “Winona, Winona.”

  Some shitbag goes for my fucking gun. I let go of Winona and twist his arm, putting him in a lock instantly.

  He winces, “Fuck, dude.”

  Shoving him hard, he stumbles away and into the pack of guys. And then I turn to the sliding glass door. Xander is on the other side.

  Our eyes meet, and so much flashes through me. This kid I love and protected for years is at a high school party. This kid is safe inside. This kid is seventeen.

  My gaze screams, lock the door, and before I can even say the words, Xander locks the latch.

  I nod to him, grateful.

  Ben appears in the living room behind Xander. He’s wearing a Dalton Hockey sweatshirt. “Is that Nona outside?”

  “Stay inside, Ben!” I yell, shoving more kids away. They try to bang at the glass. It’s not safe for Sulli or Winona to stand around here.

  Akara swoops in and protects the Meadows girls, moving them towards the stereo. “Banks, don’t let anyone out or in.”

  “Copy that—back off!” I yell at two guys who try to deck me. I let them hit my arm and stifle a grimace. They’re too short to reach my face. With one free hand, I click my mic. “Watch your gun, Akara.”

  “What’s going on?” Thatcher is in my ear.

  “You need backup?” Donnelly.

  “I’m in town.” Oscar.

  I tune out SFO comms as Ben yells, “We can’t leave Winona outside with Tate!”