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“Don’t fuck with my sister,” I growl, “and don’t think about putting a hand on her or any of her friends.”
They laugh, and the tall one says, “You think you can hurt us?”
I want to say, yes. I can take on three fucking teenagers. I’m that strong, but they won’t take me seriously like they would Moffy.
“I have a button on my headlamp. One push and our bodyguards are called. Two pushes and the fucking cops come. I’ve already pushed it once.”
“You’re lying.”
They can’t see my shitty poker face in the moonlight. “I’m glad you think so. Your fucking confidence is a win for me. My bodyguards will be here in five seconds. They have our location.”
The three douchebros swap a wary look. “Fine,” the tall one says. “You really are lucky this time, Nona.” They start into a jog and then sprint away. Disappearing through the woods, and I tug Winona in the direction of our parents’ house.
She’s stupefied, slow to follow until I pull harder. And then we’re running again.
When we break into the grassy yard, we hurry towards the house. “You have to tell Mom and Dad.”
“They’ve never been that sick, Sulli.”
“Have they ever crept in our backyard before?” I glance backwards, glad they didn’t try to follow us. Winona goes to school with them, so their names will be easy to hand to security.
“This is the first time that I know of, I swear.”
My heart is still beating out of my chest. “Do you think they overheard us on the tire swing?” We were discussing my relationship with two bodyguards.
Winona looks distraught. “I don’t know…Sulli, I’m so fucking sorry. If they heard anything, it’s all my fault—”
“No, you didn’t know they were there.”
She rips off her headlamp, upset. We both always spend a lot of our energy ensuring we don’t leak each other’s private lives to the public. That starts with not blabbing to enemies, especially shitheads down the street.
We near the cottage.
I left my boyfriends alone with my parents. The sudden thought practically catapults me back through the door.
21
AKARA KITSUWON
Banks isn’t wrong. I have more in common with Ryke Meadows. But not just because we both had money in our pockets from birth.
Ryke fell in love with the “off-limits” girl. A girl who was too young when he first met her. A girl who became his friend. A girl he chased to the ends of the earth. To protect her. Because he loved her. Because even if he never held the title or career, he was her bodyguard.
So while Sulli is outside with her sister, Banks and I face our girlfriend’s parents with unspoken truths stretched taut in the kitchen.
“We can all sit down. Talk a wee little bit?” Daisy suggests with a playful smile, but her Golden Retriever partially distracts her as Goldilocks paws at the backdoor. “Goldi, you were just outside.” She kneels beside the young dog, scratching behind her ears.
None of us make a move to sit.
Kitchen stools, the counter, and discomfort separate us from Ryke. His glare mostly stays on Banks, and my muscles constrict the longer he avoids me.
I’m right here.
My chest tightens. “Why can’t you even look at me?” I ask him.
His nose flares, and as expected, his narrowed eyes never graze me. He mumbles something hot.
“What was that?”
He looks up, hurt in his eyes. “I’m fucking disappointed in you.”
It stings, and I shift my weight. “You should understand,” I say heatedly, “better than anyone how this could happen.”
He glances back at the door where Goldi whimpers, then to me, he says, “You’ll be twenty-eight in December…I was three years younger than you when I sat down with Daisy’s father and he interrogated me. And I never thought I’d be on the other side, but here I fucking am.”
“You can interrogate me,” I urge. “Ask me what needs to be asked.” My chest rises and falls heavily. Come on, Ryke.
“I can’t…” Ryke’s eyes redden and he looks away. “I’ve already put you through too fucking much, Akara.” He’s referring to the shouting match at the quarry.
“You think what you’re doing to me now is any better?” I slip my phone in my back pocket, my whole attention on him. “I want to make things right for Sulli. She loves you, and…you know, I have no family in Philly. I only have the family I’ve made. My men and Sulli and your family have all been my family, and I’m sorry if you thought I’d never cross a line, if you thought I wouldn’t—but I did.”
Ryke scratches the back of his neck. “Look, I’m fucking abrasive, and I’m not sure how to say things that won’t hurt you.”
I put a hand to my chest. “I don’t care if you curse me left and right. I don’t care if this ends up worse than it started because at least I know I did something to make it better.” Solutions.
