Going Wild (The Wild Ones 2)

I can go back to trying to forget about him before he decides—on a whim—to suddenly move somewhere else, and breaks my heart in the process. We only knew each other for three weeks. I’m crazy, so I understand it taking me much too long to move on. But what’s his excuse?

Jason, as expected, stalks off to go to my father and report back to him like a good little predictable giant.

I watch, drinking my beer, and notice how Liam seems unconcerned with the whole scene as he joins Killian and Hale…who are doing a keg stand. On two separate kegs.

Hey, where did the kegs come from? No one told me there was keg beer.

Quickly, I look around, noticing I’ve lost sight of the Wilders. Never, ever lose sight of the Wilder brothers. Their sister is a little more on my crazy level. But the guys? Remember that whole wildcard thing?

My eyes dart back to my father, noticing he’s drinking a beer with Bill, both of them looking at Liam, probably plotting his demise.

Liam steps up and…does a keg stand. In his Armani suit.

And it’s really freaking sexy.

My eyes drift over to where a woman is walking in…is that a hind-catcher’s mask? It looks like she’s about to cop a squat behind a batter to catch the strikes. Even I find it weird.

“Who’s that?” I ask while pointing obviously, not even looking to see who’s beside me.

“That’s Benson’s mother,” Penny says, and I turn to face her, my eyebrow arching. “Lilah may have forever scarred her, so she’s…prepared now. Benson warned her there’d be paintballs.”

That’s when I hear Krysta as she steps up to the microphone and says, “I’m a real wild child.”

The music starts playing, and we all howl in unison.

Barefoot, I spin around, diving under the table nearest to me as the first shot gets fired.

No, not a gunshot. We’re not that kind of crazy. Well, not in this situation, anyhow.

I grab the paintball gun strapped to the bottom of the table, and I roll back out, laughing uncontrollably as I start firing rapidly at anything that moves.

“Stop!” Lilah shouts, and everyone stops immediately, fingers poised on triggers. Even the band stops playing. “This was my mother’s dress!” she loudly adds.

Krysta grins as she speaks into the microphone. “Lilah’s in her mother’s dress. Don’t you fuckers dare get it dirty.”

Everyone nods like that’s a perfectly understandable request, and the war resumes as the music starts again.

Lilah walks through the chaos, and everyone shoots around her. I giggle like an idiot when my paintball blasts Hale right in the chest. That never gets old.

My eyes widen when he turns his rapid-fire airsoft gun at me.

I tuck and roll, diving out of the way, hoping everyone isn’t getting a shot of my fugly undies. Yeah, they’re not the Garfield ones I thought they were.

Tate Nickel pointed out they have some other really scary cat on the crotch of them after I sailed over his head on the way to Penny’s. I’m not sure how I grabbed the wrong panties.

Totally not the point right now.

I take cover beside my dad as he fires at the Wilders who are…zip-lining toward us.

When the hell did they get zip-lines installed?! This is why you aren’t ever supposed to lose sight of them!

They’re shooting some ridiculous PVC thing, and fish are flying from it. Smelly, dirty, disgusting fish. Everything from minnow-wads to bream are flying through the air.

Another Wilder comes sailing through on a rope swing, yelling like Tarzan as he rapidly fires more of the fish.

Lilah takes a seat with a piece of cake, not even concerned with the madness as she eats it, ducking for a stray fish to fly over her head without ever looking up.

I slide across the ground, firing at the next Wilder who comes down the zip-line. I hit Kai in the chest, and he turns that fishy shooter right at me.

My eyes widen, but before I can scream, a fish comes flying at my face, slapping me right in the mouth.

I gag. A little. Because it smells like they let the fish get real raunchy for a few days before deciding to use them for ammo. It tastes like warm garbage.

I dive again, deciding I’d rather tangle with an airsoft gun than rancid fish. Nickels are using airsoft guns too, so I pop a few of them with my paintballs, snatching a refill canister from Jason’s hip as he runs by.

Krysta continues to sing, dodging the occasional stray fish, and I tuck and roll right in front of the stage, popping a few of her brothers, before rolling again.

I spot Liam firing an airsoft gun next to Hale, their backs together. He’s laughing too hard to really aim, and I can’t help but grin like an idiot.

I never thought he’d fit in, yet he’s hanging with the Vincent brothers—of all people—like he’s their missing sidekick.