I’m caught off guard. Standing in the street with not just my boyfriends but two more bodyguards. To Will, this must look shady as fuck. Showing up with four bodyguards for a meeting that I requested.
I straighten up, the bat slack in my hand.
Closer my ex is to us, the more confusion and anger twists his face. He hikes across the lawn to reach our spot by the curb. “What’s this?” Will asks. No greeting. Just an angry wave towards Wylie, Greer, Akara, and Banks.
I’m burning up. “I didn’t know if I could fucking trust you…”
“We’re just talking, right?” Will sees the bat and his eyes bug. “Jesus…you’re crazy. Just like my brother warned me about you and your family.”
Akara snaps, “Hey—”
Banks takes a threatening step forward.
Wylie and Greer stay back, but their hatred, their fury, and lethal glares on Will are unmistakable. They might not like Akara and Banks right now, but they all have a common enemy.
Will looks between us. “Fuck this.” His eyes land on me. “Fuck you, Sulli.”
“Don’t,” Akara warns, seething.
Banks is boiling, his hand balled in a fist.
Will sees, then slips me a hurt look. “Unbelievable.” He just storms back up his driveway.
I can tell my boyfriends are biting their tongues until they bleed. Banks paces away a few steps, fuming. If they weren’t on-duty, if they weren’t in front of Triple Shield—I wonder how different this would’ve gone.
My anger is replaced by shame. For feeling bad for Will. He caused so much hurt. He stole my sanity and my privacy for months. So then why did he just make me feel like an epic pile of shit. Why did I lose my voice? I hate myself in this moment.
I hate having to choose to shut up and walk away.
I hate that I couldn’t even speak and tell him how I really feel. I hate that I had the chance, and I didn’t take it.
He’ll probably block my texts, my calls, and block me on social media. I doubt I’ll ever get another chance again.
15
BANKS MORETTI
NOW
Date: July 23rd
Subject: the Rochester situation
From: [email protected]
FW: [email protected], [email protected], [email protected], and others.
Akara:
Do not engage with the Rochesters.
Tell your men to not engage. Since Omega has personal relationships with their clients, it’d be good to also tell your men to advise their clients to not engage tonight and for the rest of the Olympics.
Best,
Price
* forwarding Price’s email to all of you. He has a point, even if none of us like it. – Akara
Backs to a wall, Akara casts a quick glance to me as I pocket my phone. “You read it?”
I nod stiffly. “He’s emailing you now?”
“Yep.”
I catch his disgruntled features before I scan the “ready room” with him, where swimmers are mentally preparing for their upcoming semifinal heats. Sulli among them, and I rest my gaze on our girlfriend for longer than I should.
She stretches on a mat. Bulky headphones blocking out chatter from coaches and other athletes. She’s in the zone, and Jesus Christ, for her sake, I need to be in mine.
Hypervigilant and ultra-sharp. But I know the real threats are in the stadium where ticketed attendees pack the stands.
She’s safer here.
Stay frosty.
Don’t let your guards down.
I study her surroundings while Akara whispers, “Price and I basically have no personal relationship at this point. He can’t even text me an effing hello. It’s like he’s putting me on probation for getting with Sulli.”
“He’s always taken the stance of we’re not here to be friends with clients, we’re here to protect them,” I mention under my breath. “He was never gonna love anyone dating a client. Let alone a Meadows girl.” I scrutinize the entrances and exits. “I don’t think it helped that Price heard she took Plan B. He might stop emailing you and revert to snail mail once he finds out she’s actually…”
Pregnant.
I don’t need to say the word. And I wouldn’t. We might be out of earshot from most people but we’re still in public.
Akara rolls his eyes at that idea. “He’s so petty.”
“Passive aggressive.”
“Both.”
I nod.
Akara rests the back of his head against the wall. He focuses in on movement at our four o’clock. Just an Australian swimmer jumping and loosening their shoulders and arms.
Akara lifts his mic to his lips. “Akara to SFO, don’t forget to read the email I forwarded.” He drops his hand, then says to me, “I hate that we can’t do a fracking thing about the Rochesters.”
I welcome Akara’s dialogue, since it’s making me less paranoid about a threat targeting Sulli. I glance at him. “Yeah, but for as much as I’d give my left nut to put the Rochesters in their place, I wouldn’t make a move tonight.”
Olympic semifinals for swimming. Where Sulli is competing back-to-back six times over.
I’m not screwing my girlfriend’s chances at gold.
So I’m glad Triple Shield and Kitsuwon Securities agreed to passive perimeters tonight.