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His right-hand protégé hops out of the passenger seat.
Greer.
My former bodyguard and currently my little sister’s. He shaved since last I saw him. His copper-beard now just red stubble.
Both Navy vets, Wylie was the one who recommended Greer for the security job post-military. Akara told me it’s why Greer was instantly put onto a Meadows detail when he was hired. Greer didn’t have to “fight” for the position. In fact, Wylie and Greer have only ever been bodyguards to my family members.
They’re Team Meadows to the dying end.
So seeing them here, like this—like they’re guarding the Rochester’s mansion, is fucking weird.
As we keep trekking forward, Wylie and Greer take a few steps to meet us in the middle of the quiet neighborhood street.
“What’s going on?” Akara asks first.
“Why are you here?” I pipe in.
Banks stays quiet, eyes pinging from Wylie to Greer.
“We were driving through the neighborhood,” Wylie explains to everyone, but he’s looking at me. “We noticed you carrying that bat and heading down the street.” He studies the bat now in Banks’ possession. “So we circled around and came here in case my suspicions were right.” He crosses his arms, but his stance is causal. Calm. “I was hoping to be wrong here, Sulli.”
My heart thumps like I was caught vandalizing a neighbor’s yard with toilet paper. But I haven’t done anything wrong. I hate that he’s making me feel like I fucking have.
“You are wrong.” Akara sticks up for me immediately. “It’s not your place to be here, Wylie.”
Wylie cuts Akara a severe look.
Bodyguard dynamics within the security teams are like complex pieces in a strategic board game. Like playing a game of Catan against Charlie—my brain pounds trying to figure it all out.
What I know: Wylie, Greer, and Price (the Meadows bodyguards on Triple Shield) are not happy with Akara and Banks crossing lines and dating me. And now they all have to work together.
Maybe they’re also pissed that my bodyguards almost got me pregnant. But shark week came. Plan B worked. So I’m on the road to the Olympics now.
“It’s my place,” Wylie says. “Members of the family have instructed Price to keep other members of the family away from the Rochesters. They don’t want drama in the neighborhood. Not while the kids still live here.”
The kids are the teenagers.
My little sister. The girl squad. Xander and Ben.
I’m stuck on members of the family. What the fuck does that mean? Who’s instructing Price and Triple Shield to protect the Rochesters? And which members of the family do they think will go after the Rochesters?
Me, fucking obviously.
I’m in that second category.
I burn beneath my jacket. “I’m here to talk to my ex-boyfriend. I’m allowed to do that.”
“Respectfully, I think you should back up, sir,” Banks says, voice deep.
Greer mutters something under his breath, but I think I hear crayon-eater.
Banks must hear because his eyes cut to Greer and frost.
Wylie rests a palm on Greer’s chest. Keeping him stationary, even when Greer hasn’t taken a step forward. Wylie says to Banks, “If you want to give me respect, you’ll turn around and walk your asses back the other way.”
“It’s not happening,” Akara says. Words resolute. They lift me up. He wasn’t fully on board with this plan, but he’s always been fully on board with protecting me.
Wylie looks grave. “I understand the need to engage with the people who created The Royal Leaks. We’re all mad about it—”
“But it didn’t fucking affect you,” I snap at Wylie. “That asshole and his family hurt mine. You can’t expect me to just walk away.”
“I do expect that,” Wylie says sternly. “Because I stood right here with your dad, and he had to make that choice too.”
What…?
My dad?
I rock back, blown off-kilter for a moment. “He tried to confront the Rochesters?”
Wylie nods. “Your mom, Aunt Lily, and Uncle Connor have instructed Price to make sure that Triple Shield keeps the peace. They’re handling the Rochesters the legal route. It’s just going to take time.”
My mom.
Aunt Lily.
Uncle Connor.
My head spins.
I don’t have time for legal recourse, which could take years. I need to talk to Will now.
My eyes snap to the Rochester’s mansion. My dad walked away.
Why is it so hard for me to do the same?
Hot-tempered breaths inflate and deflate my lungs in uneven patterns. My resolve begins to weaken the longer I think about my family. About creating a bigger mess in search of revenge.
Akara rotates to me, whispering, “We’re with you, Sul. Whatever you decide.”
I take the bat from Banks. Mostly to lean my weight on the bat like a cane, my body feeling heavy and fixed in place. “What do you think?” I ask Banks, but before he can answer, before I have time to make a decision—it’s made for me.
Will Rochester—my-ex-boyfriend—struts down the driveway with an urgent pace. He’s alone. Eyes pinned to me and wind whipping at his dishwater-blond hair and J.Crew button-down.
