Wild Like Us (Like Us 8)

“And that’s an order,” Banks jokes light-heartedly.

I smile, but my face slowly morphs in a grimace when we arrive at the motel in nowhere Wisconsin.

“What a shithole,” Sulli mutters, parking beside a beat-up truck.

The neon vacancy sign is half-busted. Only the V and C’s are glowing. The single-level motel looks grimy and rundown: paint chipped, overflowing trash bins, and a few broken windows on rooms 3 and 5. Safety hazards, definitely, but with me and Banks on her detail, she’ll be protected all ways around. No matter where we crash for the night.

“As long as it has running water, should be fine with me,” Banks says as we all unmount from the Jeep.

I pop the trunk. “You need some help raising your standards, Banks.”

“At least my standards are higher than Donnelly’s.” He pulls his rucksack out of the back. “I wouldn’t have slept in the Lost & Found room.”

“The what?” Sulli asks, slipping her Patagonia backpack on her shoulders. The one her dad gave her before we left the REI.

“The Lost & Found room,” Banks says. “It used to be a guest bedroom in security’s Hell’s Kitchen apartment. Stunk like stale beer and piss.”

I explain, “Bodyguards would crash there when they were in New York for the night.”

Sulli looks surprised. “And Donnelly wanted to sleep there?”

“I heard he was willing to,” Banks says. “I would’ve just crashed with my family before sleeping there.” He goes quiet, his gaze dropped.

I understand the somber shift. So does Sulli.

Donnelly doesn’t have a home to run to. Not like the Moretti brothers, who have an army of uncles in South Philly at their disposal. These days, I don’t have a home anymore either.

It’s gone.

It’s not gone, Nine.

With my mom living back in New York, sometimes it feels that way. Shoving those thoughts aside, I grab my red duffel.

Sulli fits on her Philly baseball cap, even in the dead night. “I know my sister couldn’t come because high school started back up, but you think I should’ve invited my cousins to Montana? Like Moffy or Jane or Luna?”

I’m about to answer, but when I turn, I realize she’s asking Banks.

My stomach sinks.

He lifts a shoulder. “You want them here?”

She stares off at the flickering vacancy sign. “The FanCon tour was one of the coolest adventures I’ve ever fucking had—when we were all together. But Beckett was there too and Charlie…” Her frown deepens. “I guess I just miss how close we all got. Anyway, if I asked them, I think they’d just say sorry, we can’t.”

I chime in, “I doubt that, Sul.”

Sulli rests her hands on her head. “You would say that, Kits, but nothing stays the same with friendships. Everyone is growing up and growing apart.” Her words sound pained. “No one has time to travel to Yellowstone to watch their cousin free-solo some cliffs.” Wind picks up the dirt on top of the graveled parking lot. “And I get it. I get that everyone has their own thing going on. Luna is taking more online college courses. Moffy has a fucking baby. And Jane is getting married. Married.” She laughs like it seems unreal. “To your brother.” She points at Banks. “And it feels like just yesterday we were all kids, piling into a canoe at the lake house. Trying not to tip it over.” Sulli exhales strongly, then stares at the ground, adjusting her backpack strap. “Maybe it’s good they’re not here. Flying higher from the nest, right? I need to do this on my own—with you two, obviously.”

Banks and I nod, trying more or less to be impartial. But with her cousins come their bodyguards. Omega. My men. Of course we’d like them here, but Sullivan is right.

It’s better it’s just the three of us.

I don’t need SFO to rib me about my relationship with Sulli right now. Not when it’s being electrocuted every ten minutes.

“So what now?” Sulli asks me and Banks.

Hey, she included me. Love those good signs.

I pass them. “I’m going to check to see if they have a room available.” I walk backwards and say, “Grab what you need. Cover her ass, Banks.”

“On it,” he says.

As I walk away, I hear Sulli ask him, “Who’s going to be in charge of your ass tonight…?” Her voice tapers off as my shoes crunch gravel.

I walk faster.

And faster.

Not wanting to hear Banks’ reply for some reason.

I blink back invasive thoughts.

Cherries.

A bed.

Her body.

I blink.

Sulli.

Thighs spread.

Virginity.

I blink and blink. Gusts of wind whip my black hair.

Sheets.

Her long brunette hair.

Greenest green eyes.

Legs that never end.

I blink.

Her arched back.

Shallow breath.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

My stomach tosses in guilt. I shouldn’t see her that way. Not even if she asked me to take her virginity. Not even if the world was burning down.

She’s like my little sister. Ryke said it himself!

He told me that. He has constantly said:

“That’s your fucking sister, you know? Protect her.”