Wild Like Us (Like Us 8)

And I know I was young, but he was still young too. Young to own a business all by himself. Young to be a lead on the Tri-Force. Young to create a security firm. He’s never let age or time or shitty cell service stop him from chasing triumph and success.

I understand what it’s like running so hard after something that everything else falls to the wayside. So much of my early life, I sacrificed for swimming. And it’s only since I retired that I have time to give to all the experiences I neglected.

I admire Kits because he’s never been so focused that he loses sight of his other loves. His other desires. He juggles so much so well, he could join Aerial Ethereal’s circus shows in Vegas.

And the rulebook—I wonder what else is inside. So I fucking go for it and ask, “When can I see this rulebook?”

Akara rounds the tent to the front, overhearing me. “When you become a bodyguard.”

I huff. “So never.”

He smiles at me, then tells Banks, “Let’s clear the snakes and pull everything from the tent. I have to figure out how they put them in here.”

My stomach curdles. I figured someone intentionally placed them in the tent, but hearing Akara confirm the presence of creeps creeping over our things is disturbing.

While I near the tent’s entryway, I tell them, “I can help.” A gray snake with long yellow stripes lies motionless at the zippered flaps. Oh fuck…

My stomach sinks.

I recognize this snake. I stepped on it before Akara pulled me out of the tent.

“Sulli?” Akara frowns.

“I squished it to death,” I breathe softly. “What are the fucking odds?”

“Damn high,” Banks says gruffly as he wrangles a couple more snakes in his hands. “I think there are close to four-dozen in here.”

My estimation was a whole dozen off—and how the fuck did they even find four dozen snakes?! This was premeditated. I burn up. Pissed off that some jackasses infiltrated the place where I sleep for a prank.

So funny.

So cute.

So fucking hilarious. Let’s frighten little ole Sullivan Minnie Meadows and hear her scream.

Not happening. If this was supposed to scare me away from the camp, it’s doing the opposite. I’m going to build a fortress here and never leave.

Take that, assholes.

I carry the dead snake to the woods and lay its carcass down next to a rock. Carcass. Fuck, can I have any worse tact? What else am I supposed to call its dead body though?

A dead body, Sulli.

Right.

I’m gentle with the dead body—the snake’s dead body. At our campsite, it takes some time for all of us to empty the tent of snakes and our gear.

By the time we find the slit in the back of the tent, I realize the reason Team Apex left the camp. They didn’t want to be around when my bodyguards realized they pulled this prank.

“We should sleep in the Jeep tonight,” Akara tells me as I duct tape the hole.

“They’re not here.” I squat, ripping tape with my teeth. “I don’t want to run away from a stupid joke.” How much I want to stand my ground—I’m kind of surprising myself. Normally, I’d remove myself from situations that involve pranksters, but I’d rather stay and risk a confrontation.

Patting tape to the hole, I add, “And if they wanted to hurt me, Kits, they would have put rattlesnakes in the tent.”

Banks pipes in, “I don’t think they’re comin’ back for the night.” His South Philly lilt sounds thicker. “They seemed like fuckbags, but not idiots. Best guess: they’ll return when they know we’ll be hiking to the rock face.”

“And,” I say to Akara as I stand up, “your elbow shouldn’t be cramped up in Booger all night. You’ll break your sti—”

He covers my mouth with his hand. “And that was the last time you’re allowed to baby me over stitches.”

I smile underneath his palm, and then he drops his hand to flick my hair at my face. “Okay, string bean. We’ll sleep in the tent.” He looks to Banks. “But we take shifts.”

“I’m good with that,” Banks says.

But I don’t love that they’ll get half the amount of sleep as me. I don’t argue with them. Their job is to protect me. Hindering their ability to do their job, telling them what to do—yeah, I’m not going to do that. At least, I’m going to try not to.

Thankfully for them, I’m not that bossy.

Piling into the tent together, the three of us take our respective spots.

Me in the middle.

Banks on the left. Akara on the right.

All week, we’ve kept our hands and lips to ourselves. Stayed put in our own sleeping bags. But with Team Apex gone and the “tents only” campgrounds empty except us, privacy has returned.

My heartbeat thumps harder as I sit cross-legged on top of my sleeping bag and dig through my backpack. Akara scrolls through his phone, and Banks texts on his. We’re all quiet, but none of us make a move to sleep.