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Wild Like Us

Page 27

by Ritchie, Krista


  Charlie says, “Which is probably for the best, since I wouldn’t want to have to try.”

  It is kind of sweet what Charlie would do for Beckett. In this fucked up way. And I do care about Beckett, but for some reason, I can’t easily erase the hurt he caused. I remember a word.

  Forgiveness.

  Why is it so hard for me? I’m so quick to cut people out. With no look back.

  That scares me.

  It scares me even more to let Beckett back fully into my life. To know he could hurt me again. And his words have been scarred inside my heart.

  The second you retire from swimming you’re all of a sudden drinking alcohol and passing out—at least I’m not pointlessly destroying my body.

  He’s never criticized me as a way to deflect off himself before. He was purposefully cruel, and I’d never ever fucking attribute that word to Beckett Joyce Cobalt.

  Cruel is so far from what and who he is.

  Addiction.

  It runs in my family, and I want to be empathetic towards Beckett and what he was going through back then, but I’m afraid.

  Beckett and I have always built up each other’s confidence, and in that moment, I realized he was the one person that could tear me down to the ground. So even if I forgive him now, I’m giving him the ability to hurt me again.

  “Sulli, this offer is going to expire and self-destruct in ten seconds,” Charlie says and looks to his watch, timing me. “Ten…nine…”

  “Okay, okay,” I say quickly. “I’ll call him.”

  “Right now,” Charlie states firmly.

  I make a face. “Now?”

  He lets out an irritated noise. “That’s what I said.”

  “Can’t I have a couple days?”

  “No.”

  “One day?”

  “We’re not bartering. You have no leverage in this transaction.” He takes a seat on an overturned canoe. “You now have five seconds.”

  “Ugh,” I groan and pull out my cell phone. “If you weren’t family, my bodyguard would have you pinned on the ground right now.”

  Charlie barely blinks. “The bodyguard who was too busy sucking your face to notice me? That one?”

  Oh my fucking God!

  I’ve lost the verbal tennis match that I didn’t even want to play.

  Quickly, I squat to talk on my cell, but I also want to sink into the ground. Let me just become a puddle on this floor.

  I pinch the bridge of my nose as my phone rings.

  “Sulli?” Beckett sounds concerned. Because why else would I call after all this time? Maybe he thinks I’d only reach out if I were on my deathbed.

  Then again, I didn’t even call to tell him about the cougar attack. The room is stifling all of a sudden. I feel like a jerk. It’s been too long, and I don’t know how to do this anymore. I’m the Friendship Assassin. Not the Friendship Necromancer. I don’t know how to bring a friendship back to life.

  I want to hang up.

  “Sulli?” Beckett asks again. “Are you okay?” On the background of the call, I hear classical music. Songs to Romeo & Juliet, the ballet he’s cast in. Unsure of his schedule, I can’t determine whether he’s at a rehearsal before the performance or whether he’s backstage during it, but I also can’t see him dipping out of an actual show just to talk to me.

  Just like I wouldn’t dip out of a swim meet to talk to him. Our dedication has been a link that ties us, an understanding that no one else really gets. And it feels good to be understood so deeply by someone.

  Charlie clears his throat. I glance over at the canoes, and he gestures at my phone to speak.

  “Um…” I swallow hard. “Yeah, I’m alright. I fucking guess. Charlie just blackmailed me into calling you.” I don’t even know why I told him the truth. It’s just not natural to lie to Beckett.

  He sighs heavily. “I apologize on Charlie’s behalf.” He must move somewhere quieter because the music falls more hushed. “Shit, I’m sorry,” Beckett says, “this isn’t how I wanted you to talk to me again.”

  “Well, it’s fucking happening.” I stare at the dirty floor tiles.

  “Is he watching?”

  “Yep.”

  Beckett laughs a little. “Then I’m sorry again. I’d tell you to hang up, but he probably won’t find this call sufficient enough. Do you want me to hang up? You can pretend to keep talking for a bit.”

  Beckett is kind.

  My dad used to always say that all the Cobalt boys are mischievous in some way. All but one.

  Beckett.

  Honest and kind. Though, he can be extremely blunt. I know that. And after he snuck around doing drugs, I’m not so sure my dad would say today what he used to say back then.

  But right now, Beckett’s kindness rushes back into me, almost as a reminder of the Beckett I grew older with, my best friend.

  “No, it’s okay,” I whisper. “We can talk for a second.”

  My pulse ratchets up. On a steep incline.

  The second you retire from swimming you’re all of a sudden drinking alcohol and passing out—at least I’m not pointlessly destroying my body.

  I push that memory back to ask, “How’s ballet?” I want to ask whether he still “loathes” Leo Valavanis, his rival in the company, but those extra words lodge in my throat.

  “It’s challenging lately, but I like that about this performance we’re on.” He pauses. “How’s swimming?”

  “I’m climbing. Not swimming.”

  “I know, but your first love is swimming. First loves just don’t go away.” He uses love in context of a thing, a sport, an ambition—not a person. Beckett doesn’t want to fall in love with anyone.

  First loves.

  The plural has me struggling not to picture both Akara and Banks. And I struggle even more not to share all that’s happened with Beckett.

  He’s the one person I’d always confide in. Where everyone else has their number ones. Their friendship groups. Beckett is my person. And now he’s just…not.

  I settle with, “You’re not going to ask what Charlie has on me?”

  “I thought about it,” Beckett says, “but I don’t really deserve your secrets, and I think I need to earn this one.”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose harder, emotion trying to swell up. “I’m so fucking bad at friendships,” I mutter to myself, but I know he can hear. And I ask, “Have I shut you out too long? Am I being unreasonable?”

  “Yes,” Charlie says.

  “No,” Beckett tells me on the phone. “I love you, Sulli, because you don’t take any bullshit, and I flung a lot of shit at you.” He sounds choked up. “I’m not any better at friendships, you know. I compete with every guy at my company. I have protective blinders up every time I talk to someone. Like they can’t see below the bottoms of my eyelashes. I’m tired…so fucking tired of feeling on guard all the time. You’re my best friend. I don’t have to have any blinders with you.” Except when it comes to cocaine.

  He’s never talked to me about it. I don’t know if he will ever confide in me. It hurts to think we could become friends again, but not like before. Not the kind of friends who’d share everything in our lives.

  The pain in my chest blossoms like an ugly glower. “I have to go,” I say suddenly.

  “Okay. I understand.” I hear him take an audible breath, but his voice sounds tight. “Tell Charlie he’s an asshole for me.”

  “Will fucking do.”

  “Bye, Sul.”

  “Bye, Beckett.” I hang up and rise to a full stance.

  Charlie stares from me to the cell in my hand like he can manifest his brother in this bait & tackle shop.

  “We’re even,” I say.

  Charlie’s lips press together, and then he says, “For every day I have to keep your secret, you have to call my brother.”

  Anger flares. “That wasn’t the deal, Charlie.”

  “It’s a new deal.” He pulls a sweater over his head, the color of winterberries. While he fits hi
s arms through the holes, he adds, “Take it or leave it. It’s up to you.”

  I have a feeling he’ll just find a new creative way to get me to talk to Beckett if I don’t.

  And anyway, this deal is in my favor. I have more reassurance that he won’t tell anyone about the kiss. Not if there’s something consistently in it for him.

  He has to know he gave me some power. Maybe he even wanted that.

  I don’t try to descend inside Charlie’s head. All I do is hold out my pinky finger. “Deal.”

  He stares at my finger.

  Rolling his eyes, Charlie locks his pinky with mine.

  33

  BANKS MORETTI

  Charlie Cobalt saw Akara and Sulli kiss.

  Fuck my motherfucking life.

  I’ll admit a seed of jealousy was planted somewhere on this trip, but it barely grew. It was a sprout.

  My little sprout-ling of jealousy just ate fertilizer and grew into a giant beanstalk with the world’s longest thorns. And somehow, it’s growing inside me. Twisting around my organs.

  Green doesn’t even look good on me. I prefer blue. But I can’t help it. I’m stupidly envious.

  Truth: I wish Charlie caught me kissing Sulli. It wouldn’t solve a goddamn thing, but it’d help the knot in my throat.

  “This doesn’t change anything,” Akara whispers as the three of us hike through the dense woods. He carries Sulli’s rope on his arm while Sulli grips her harness and a water bottle, sweat dripping down her temples. She just finished practicing Rattlesnake Knuckle for the day.

  And everyone from the RV camp was there watching. Her cousins. And Oscar, Thatcher, Farrow. I was quietly pissy and in my feelings, but only Thatcher and Akara could tell. Sulli probably could more once she was on the ground.

  Now that the RV glampers are off to their cushy pads, Akara is ready for my “silent brooding” to end and he’s pushing me to talk about it. So now I have to talk about the green monster inside me. He already knows it’s there.

  While we pass towering tree after tree, Akara tells me, “Charlie’s not going to tell anyone as long as Sulli keeps calling Beckett.”

  “And I will keep calling,” Sulli assures me. “I’m following through.”

  Tendons in my shoulders and neck pull taut. Still tensed, I whack a branch out of my face. “Even if you call Beckett every minute of the day, I don’t trust Charlie to keep his word.” And then what—everyone knows Akara and Sulli kissed. My chances with her have plummeted to the darkest depths of the deep sea.

  I knew my chances already existed there.

  I’ve been chasing rejection from the start. But it doesn’t change the despair inside me, which feels like a fatal wound, the final blow.

  “Hey, I barely trust Charlie too,” Akara admits in a friendly tone, “but it doesn’t change things between the three of us.” He’s still trying to deescalate my jealousy.

  A rough laugh sticks to my throat. “If this is a race, Akara, you’re at the fucking finish line.”

  “That’s not true.” Sulli stops in her tracks on the slope of a wooded hill.

  Akara and I halt further down the incline and turn to face her.

  She gives me a hard look, then Akara. “I’m not going to base this decision on what other people know. If I did, I would have picked Banks days ago when Akara friend-zoned me in front of everyone.” Her gaze hits mine. “And Jane thinks you like me.”

  Akara whips his head to me. “Did you tell Jane something?”

  I honestly can’t remember what I said to Jane at the motel.

  “No,” I say, then scowl in a grimace. “I told my brother Sulli and I kissed—”

  “You idiot,” Akara snaps.

  “Hey, hey.” Sulli races down the hill. Coming between us fast, she puts a hand to my chest and then Akara’s. We’re actually not moving in towards each other. We’re just glaring. But I’m not gonna move the mermaid. I like her where she is.

  To Akara, I say, “That was ages ago. Back at the motel before I even knew you two kissed.”

  Akara’s shoulders slacken, relaxing.

  I add, “My brother promised he wouldn’t tell anyone. Not even Jane. She probably just thinks I like Sulli because I do. I’m not as good at hiding my feelings as you.”

  Akara runs his fingers through his hair, then mumbles, “I guess that’s true.”

  “If it makes you feel any better,” Sulli says to Akara, “if my little sister knew about this situation, she’d be cheering with Akara Kitsuwon pom-poms.” Before my stomach plummets at that news, she swings her head to me. “And Jane’s firmly Team Banks.”

  Yeah, I’m smiling.

  Akara makes a face. “There are teams?”

  “Unofficial fucking ones,” Sulli pats our chests. “Just so we’re clear, I’m Team Akara and Team Banks right now. Equally.”

  I believe her. She truly cares about me and Akara, and she’s not going to needlessly string one of us along. When she knows who she wants to be with in the end—she’ll tell us.

  Akara snaps a finger to his palm, eyes on me. “So Thatcher knows you kissed Sulli. Charlie knows I kissed her. That sounds almost even.”

  “Almost,” I agree. Because we both know Thatcher’s more likely to take this secret to his grave than Charlie’s likely to keep this secret to tomorrow.

  Continuing our hike, we reach an area in the woods that has the best vantage of the Team Apex campsite, while we’re out of earshot. All three of us crouch behind two large boulders.

  I pass Sulli a pair of binoculars.

  She puts down her harness and peers through the binoculars, looking out for movement. Before Sulli began her climb today, we released crickets in Team Apex’s tents.

  Now we wait.

  Hopefully they’ll spend as much time clearing out the insects as we did the snakes. I light a cigarette, and both Akara and Sulli shoot me disapproving looks.

  I blow smoke away from them. “What? You two have never had a smoke during a stakeout before?”

  They’re trying not to smile.

  Times like these, Akara would smoke a cigarette. He’s a social smoker. But he must really want me to quit because he doesn’t ask for one.

  “I think I see their Jeep,” Sulli whispers in eagerness. She lowers the binoculars to double-check.

  Sure enough, the Jeep Wrangler is headed to their campsite. After everything, I need a win. Let this be one.

  Akara’s phone buzzes loudly in his pocket at the same time Sulli’s chimes. She fumbles to remove it from her backpack on the ground, while Akara slides his out.

  I take the binoculars and peer through.

  They’re piling out from the Jeep. Looks like they’re aimed for the campfire, carrying bundles of logs. Thankfully they’re not searching for the cellphones ringing out in the distance.

  I’m about to ask Akara and Sulli who’s calling, when my phone pings.

  Xander Hale is sending a text to a group chat with Thatcher and me.

  Rare.

  He’s only sixteen.

  When we were his full-time bodyguards, he was supposed to only use the thread for emergencies since he’s a minor and we report to his parents. Sometimes, though, he’d recommend us fantasy TV shows and books to watch. More so lately, our text communication is about boxing since Thatcher, Farrow, and I started to teach him on our days off-duty.

  But the message I’m staring at now has nothing to do with Jon Snow or Frodo Baggins, the dweeby-looking elf, goblin thing, or sparring when we come home.

  Banks. Thatcher. PLEASE don’t let Donnelly get fired. It’s not his fault!! – Xander

  What in the fuck happened?

  34

  AKARA KITSUWON

  Sometimes I have to remind myself that I don’t work for Price Kepler anymore. Now that I own my own security firm, he can’t fire me from Triple Shield. But Price isn’t a bad guy. He’s been there for Daisy Calloway since his early twenties.

  Young.

  So young.
/>   And now I’m young, just twenty-seven to his forty-some-years, and I’m protecting Daisy’s daughter. I’ve respected Price. Admired what he built. Having the Tri-Force—three leads to rule them all—awarded his men power alongside him.

  He gave me power as a lead in his firm.

  He respected my calls, my decisions. And when I told him I was creating a security firm, we were cordial.

  But the minute Triple Shield had egg on their face from losing the girl squad in Anacapri—he began resenting me for building Kitsuwon Securities. Which looked shinier, better, newer, younger.

  Recently, my firm has had missteps with temp guards screwing up and Charlie getting robbed at the Carnival Fundraiser. So Price should feel better.

  Instead, he’s just patronizing me ten-times more. Like my company is a liability to his company and a liability to these families.

  That enrages me.

  And as he lays into me over the phone right now, you’d think I was back in Philly and a brand-new bodyguard on his fleet.

  My grip tightens harder on the cell. Pretty fast, I get the gist of what happened.

  What I know: most of the parents were gathered at the Hale house, and they invited Price and the Epsilon lead over to talk about security at Dalton Academy, the prep school that the girl squad and Ben attend.

  They heard a splash. When they ran outside, they saw Ben in the pool. Apparently, Xander and Ben were having an argument. Donnelly got between both teenagers to deescalate the situation, and Ben fell in the water.

  Price thinks it’s Donnelly’s fault, and if the Alpha lead hadn’t been there, I doubt this would even be a fucking issue.

  Over the phone, Price is still fuming. “Paul Donnelly isn’t being paid to interfere with their personal lives. That’s not how we do things, Akara. That wasn’t his job, and it’s an abuse of a bodyguard’s power—”

  “An abuse of power?” I cringe and speak hushed. “Come on, Price, that’s an over-dramatization of the situation and you know it.” I lean back against the boulder but turn my head around the rock. I have a partial view of Team Apex in the growing dark. And while Banks has binoculars loose in his clutch, a cigarette burning between his lips, Sulli is between us on the phone too.

 

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