Wild Like Us

by Ritchie, Krista

  Banks’ jaw tenses.

  Fuck.

  I’m fucking this up.

  “They’re actually both taking the bed,” I say quickly, motioning from Banks to Akara. “We’re all just friends here.”

  “Good friends,” Banks says.

  “Really good friends,” Akara adds like he’s trying to top Banks.

  Okay, lots of testosterone is pumping into the air right now. I am both turned on and worried that they’re going to start testing the boundaries of their friendship.

  I am not a Friendship Assassin. If I repeat it enough in my head, maybe it’ll be true.

  Neil looks a little freaked out but he covers quickly by pointing to another trailer. “This one might be better suited for three friends.”

  As we follow him, my phone buzzes.

  Sulli-Bear! I’m pulling in to the RV place now. Can’t wait to see your gorgeous face <3 – Nona-Frog

  She adds a ton of nature emojis, and my chest swells like I’m about to rush downstairs on Christmas morning. My sister is here. Then I suddenly remember all I’m keeping from her.

  Cougar attacks.

  Bachelorette-style dating with my bodyguards.

  Hey, at least I’m still vegan.

  My stomach sinks regardless. I’ve realized that I won’t be able to hide the cougar attack. Clothes conceal most of our healing wounds, but we still have visible scratches. Plus, the bite mark on Akara’s elbow is in plain sight. She’ll ask.

  I won’t lie.

  And so I’ll finally have to come clean.

  I quickly text her back a big smiley face and hearts.

  Akara whispers into his mic, and I think he’s probably giving our location to Winona’s bodyguard. Greer Bell is on Security Force Epsilon, which means that for the first time this whole trip, someone from Price’s Triple Shield is here.

  It’s going to put a strain on Akara, seeing as how his company is in an unofficial competition with Price’s.

  Even though Price Kepler has been my mom’s bodyguard for so long—before I was even born—my parents still weren’t upset that Akara jumped ship and started his own firm. My mom was really fucking excited for him. She said it suited him more being his own boss.

  As Neil stops at a sleek black trailer, I hear off in the distance, “Ca-Caw! Ca-Caw!”

  I cup my hands to my mouth. “Ca-Caw! Ca-Caw!”

  My little sister rounds the corner with the biggest smile. Her backpack thwacks against her as she races towards me. Her copper-haired bodyguard jogs next to her, not having a hard time keeping up with my fifteen-year-old sister.

  I close the distance and we hug tight. She’s only an inch shorter, and with thick-soled Timberland boots, we’re the same height. Wearing cargo pants and a men’s baggy, khaki-colored button-down knotted at her belly button, she looks pretty fucking cool.

  “How was the flight?” I ask as we break away. “Are you hungry? I’ve got snacks in Booger.”

  “I had food on the plane.” Nona bounces on her feet, dropping her backpack to the ground. And she holds out her hand.

  I smile big as I shake her hand into a fist-bump, then it devolves in a much longer sequence. A secret greeting formed one muggy summer at Camp Calloway. Two hip-bumps, we throw our arms in the air, rattling them to the sky, then spin in two circles. Crouching low, we’re face to face again and flutter fingertips to fingertips. Then I hook her elbow with mine and we skip ‘round, howling at the sky.

  And we don’t pull apart.

  Instead, we draw nearer, our foreheads pressed together in a huddle. My arms around her shoulders, her arms around mine. This close, she’s all I see.

  I’m all she sees.

  Private. At least for us. We’re fucking aware other people are watching. They’re always watching, but in this moment, in our huddles, it’s just me and my sister.

  Winona whispers with a smile, “I wish you would’ve been on the plane ride here—Greer was rolling at my farts.”

  I laugh, smiling so much my face hurts, realizing just how much I missed her.

  “They smelled horrible. I tried to hold them in.”

  “You did?” I whisper skeptically.

  “I did,” she grins. “My stomach hurt when we landed I tried so hard. I didn’t want to asphyxiate every passenger, they were that bad, Sulli.” We laugh together. “This one prick behind us thought Greer was the farter. It got so bad that the guy told Greer to stop passing gas, and I told him, sir, I’ve been farting, not him. The guy looked like he saw a ghost. He said nothing, just shrunk backwards in his seat.”

  We laugh again, and as the sound fades, her brown, hazel-flecked eyes rest softly on my green. It’s my turn to share in our safe, private huddle.

  I could bring up something funny. Like how my boob itches from at least three ant bites. But that’s not really what I need to share. What I want to share.

  Because I want to tell her the truth about what I did. I’m just scared of my sister’s reaction.

  Foreheads still pressed together, I drop my gaze. “After a practice climb on this route called The Bitterroot Buttress, Akara, Banks, and I were hiking back to our camp…and two cougars stalked us.”

  Winona holds her breath. I’m not looking, but I feel air vacuum between us.

  “I killed a cougar, Nona.” Pressure mounts on my chest like the animal is back on my body. “I used the gun Dad gave me, and I killed her.” I finally raise my eyes to hers.

  Tears are streaming down her soft cheeks.

  “Why are you crying?” My voice breaks.

  “I’m crying because you’re crying.” Her chin quakes. My face is wet.

  I try to laugh but it cracks. “I’m sorry, Nona.” I’m so afraid she’s going to look at me differently, but her wet lashes and glassy eyes stay on me with condolences and love.

  “I don’t think I could’ve done it, Sulli.” She cries with me. “I would’ve let the cougar kill me.”

  “Stop.”

  “No, I would’ve. And it’s good. It’s good that you were the one there…” We’re both nodding to each other, foreheads together, sucking in snotty tears. “It’s good,” Winona breathes, “because Mom and Dad can’t lose either of us. And I can’t lose you, not to an animal, not to a mountain—I just can’t.” We shift our heads and come together in the tightest hug, tears soaking each other’s shoulders.

  We stay like that for a few more minutes. And she asks if I got hurt. I tell her about everyone’s wounds, but that we’re all okay.

  She’s not disappointed in me for taking an animal’s life. She’s just happy that I’m alive. Weight eases off my chest.

  When we separate, we dry our faces with our shirts, and she rests her head on my shoulder for a beat. For once, I feel like the older sister. And I realize it’s her fear of losing me that causes this change.

  * * *

  While Akara dots all the Is and crosses the Ts, all the paperwork involved in renting an RV, Winona and I loiter around the office’s vending machines. We unscrew bottles of Ziff and chat about her suspension.

  I’ve done a decent job hiding the love triangle because she hasn’t said a thing or even done a double-take.

  Score for Sulli! I could pump my fist in the air.

  I smile into my Ziff.

  Off to the side of us, I hear Banks say, “Greer, nice beard.”

  It pulls my attention to my sister’s bodyguard. Sure enough, Greer has grown a somewhat thick beard. It’s the same copper-red as his hair. He has a muscular build, and his left earlobe is bitten off.

  When I was little, he used to tell me a shark bit him. Eight-year-old me was very fucking fascinated by that fact. As I got older, I called him on his bullshit, and he admitted it was a bar fight at eighteen and some drunk guy took a chunk out of him.

  He won the fight apparently, but it’s still horrific in my mind. And that’s also when I realized why my parents didn’t try to force him to tell me and Nona the truth when we were kids.

  It�
��s kind of hard to believe Greer had been my bodyguard for eight years. Since he was twenty-two and I was only eight, we weren’t friends. But he wasn’t a jerk, and he’s still really nice to my sister.

  More so, I think Akara and Greer were friends at a certain point. Honestly, I can’t say for sure. It’s hard to grasp the bodyguard relationships from my vantage. But I can’t imagine they weren’t at least friendly before Kitsuwon Securities. They spent a whole ton of time together on my family trips.

  “But they did ground you?” I ask Winona since that part has been vague.

  “Sort of. Dad said when I get back, I can’t be on the internet for the weekend.” She shrugs with a smile. Our dad has to know that’s not much of a punishment for Nona. She’s rarely on the internet. “Mom said he smiled when he heard who I punched. But he’s all like, I’m not trying to fucking promote violence in this household.” Her imitation is spot on.

  I laugh. “So they didn’t want to fly out with you?” On this trip, I’ve talked to my parents only a handful of times, mostly to check-in, say hi and I’m alive. Our phone calls have been nowhere near the almost daily that I’m used to, so I don’t know where their heads are at.

  Winona sips the sports drink, then wipes a dribble down her lip where a scar lies. “I wondered the same thing. I thought they would’ve wanted to see you climb.” She begins to smile. “But Mom told me this is your great, wild adventure, and you need this time without them.”

  My eyes burn and well with emotion.

  She knew—my mom knew this trip would be more than just the spirit of climbing. That it’d become so much more.

  I smile into a soft laugh. Thanks, Mom. I feel like I’m on the right path, even if it’s an uncertain one.

  36

  AKARA KITSUWON

  Sulli is at least a hundred feet off the ground. As she ascends Rattlesnake Knuckle, the crack in the slab of rock widens so much that her legs stretch further and further apart. Firmly rooted between the fissure, she releases a hand off the rock to shake out her right arm.

  She still has on a harness.

  And rope.

  She’s solo climbing, placing safety gear up the rock face, and once she reaches the top, she’ll rappel down and clear it all.

  I remind myself that she’s safe if she falls—because the nervous audience watching her climb right now is making me more edgy and apprehensive.

  There might not be a football stadium of people gawking at Sulli, but there are a lot of eyes and even a few cameras.

  From Jane, Maximoff, Charlie—to Farrow, Thatcher, Oscar—to Jack Highland-Oliveira, his sixteen-year-old brother Jesse—to Greer and Winona—and we can’t forget about the baby and the puppy.

  And I saved the shittiest for last: Team Apex decided to observe Sulli for the day like they’re suddenly fans. They’ve parked their asses on a hill. Adding to a broiler of intensity that burns up inside of me. My gaze cuts between so many people.

  When really, I wish I could just focus on Sulli. It wouldn’t be that bad if everyone knew we were dating. Because at least I could’ve kissed her before she ascended. Shit, I’ve watched her climb countless times throughout my life, but it’s hitting me how different it’s been in Yellowstone.

  I want to smother her with affection. To hold her cheeks and whisper dirty things in her ear. To put my lips to hers before she climbs four-hundred feet in the air.

  But with everyone here, it’s like I’m only her bodyguard.

  Her friend.

  Like we’ve shot backwards, and I can’t paddle to the place I want to be. That feeling settles inside me like a chainsaw. Just friends.

  Only friends.

  I’ve never hid my affection in a relationship. I hate this. And the worst part: this is all either me or Banks will ever get with Sulli. One of us will never know more.

  On the grass beneath the cliff-face, Banks is standing beside me, toothpick between his lips. He gives me a look like I’m pacing around the rock and biting my nails.

  All I’m doing is running my palms back and forth. Under my breath, I tell him, “I liked it better before.” I catch his gaze for a second. “When it was just the three of us.”

  “Yeah.” Banks nods about five times. “Me too.”

  We both go rigid. Watching Winona climb a traditional route parallel to her older sister. Placing gear, she’s the lead climber while Maximoff is her belay, climbing about six-feet below.

  While Winona stops at an anchor she just placed, she grips a Canon camera strapped around her neck. And she films Sulli.

  Jack should be up there.

  He’s climbed and filmed Sulli before. But apparently at the RV camp yesterday, he tore a muscle in his shoulder playing basketball with most of SFO and Jesse.

  I wasn’t there. But as the story goes, Oscar raided every RV for ice, even knocked on other campers’ RV doors to gather more ice. Ensuring his husband had proper first-aid.

  Jack’s seventeen-year-old shaggy-haired, surfer brother is here to help shoot, but Jesse isn’t that skilled at rock climbing. Winona ended up offering to get some footage for the production team. She loves photography, but mostly, she was just excited to climb next to her sister.

  I run my palms together a few more times, glance at Banks. Glance at Team Apex. Glance at her cousins. Glance at Ripley. Baby needs a bodyguard. Glance at SFO and Jack’s cameras. A tripod is set-up near me and Banks. The lens is aimed at Sulli.

  Jack adjusts the camera on the tripod. His teenage brother is squatting closer to the rock face, filming from a different angle.

  My eyes flash back to the rock at sudden movement. Winona. She drops her Canon. Hooked to her neck, the camera thumps against her chest, then she slips.

  Maximoff pushes off the rock with his feet, giving her slack as the rope catches her fall.

  Sulli never flinches. Still focused, she rises.

  “Watch out for those fire ants! I hear they can be bad around here!” Lincoln on Team Apex yells up at Sulli.

  Now she flinches, and instinct propels me towards these idiots. I’m boiling and running, and Banks is hot on my heels. Just as livid, and we’re not even twenty-feet on them when they bolt.

  Racing away like—

  “Fucking cowards,” Banks growls the words I feel.

  Breathing hard, we glance back at Sulli.

  She’s rappelling.

  I head quickly to the tripod. “Did she slip?” I ask Jack.

  He shakes his head. “I think she was freaked out.”

  I frown, and Banks’ eyes tighten on Sulli, more concerned. Like a boyfriend would be. Jealousy bites at me.

  Banks is on my side. Better to have him overly concerned about Sulli than only partially. That’s what I’m telling myself.

  I rest my hands on my neck, hot with frustration from so many directions. And I whisper to Banks, “We should’ve cut them out on Day 1, not had a prank war.”

  “It’s too late now.”

  What was I thinking?

  Probably, have fun with Sulli. Yeah. I can’t help it—I enjoy having fun with her, spending time with her, kissing her. I remember shopping for crickets, trying to pay for her, taking her on an afternoon date.

  Regretting the prank war means taking back those moments, and I won’t return those. Not for any price, not for anything. So I shelve the bowl of Instant Regret this time.

  But Team Apex can’t distract Sulli while she climbs. If she’d been free-soloing today, she could’ve fallen and been severely injured or died.

  My muscles tighten. “Next time they come back to watch her, we threaten them,” I tell Banks like an order.

  He nods, “Don’t have to tell me twice.” He’s all-in.

  Intimidation is literally our best bet.

  * * *

  Sulli safely on the ground, we all start packing up to leave.

  I help Sulli coil her rope, and Banks hands her a water bottle. Close by, Jack is on his knees packing up the tripod in a case.

  He c
atches my eyes. “Same old, same old, right?” he asks in a staple-Jack-Highland-smile. Bright and charismatic—the kind that made me not trust him. Now, I know that smile as purely genuine.

  But being real, constant positivity is off-putting to me after a while. I wouldn’t hang out with the sunshine Care Bear every day of the week, so I take Jack in small doses. It’s one of many ways we’ve maintained a good friendship after a rocky start.

  Same old, same old.

  He’s trying to be casual and friendly while production is intermingling with security. I like Jack, but I hate production.

  Cameras impede security. Their presence is a bullseye on all clients. Passersby will see the camera crew before the famous person and immediately run over to play spot that celebrity.

  Luckily, we’re not in the city right now. And there aren’t many threats around.

  I smile back. “The same old shit never really gets old for me.” I could watch Sulli climb and swim every day for the next hundred years.

  He nods, snapping buckles on a black case. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, there’s a new crew member on We Are Calloway who’s single. She’s super cute. I talked you up for a solid ten and gave her your number.”

  My stomach pole-vaults in the ground. “You what?”

  Sulli definitely overhears. She turns her back to Jack and me.

  Shit.

  Banks looks between us like pain is rushing in, a hole in a boat that I can’t plug fast enough.

  He wants to comfort her. I know he does.

  Jealousy gnaws harder at me, but a part of me wishes one of us could hug her right now without drawing suspicion.

  “I gave her your number.” Jack frowns at my distraught reaction. “Is that okay?”

  I’m barely breathing.

  Jack thinks I’m single.

  But I’m actually taken.

  Mentally, physically, emotionally closed off to anyone but Sulli right now, and the thought of uttering the words, I’m single to Jack is going to kill me.