Wild Like Us (Like Us 8)

Akara runs his fingers through his hair, then mumbles, “I guess that’s true.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Sulli says to Akara, “if my little sister knew about this situation, she’d be cheering with Akara Kitsuwon pom-poms.” Before my stomach plummets at that news, she swings her head to me. “And Jane’s firmly Team Banks.”

Yeah, I’m smiling.

Akara makes a face. “There are teams?”

“Unofficial fucking ones,” Sulli pats our chests. “Just so we’re clear, I’m Team Akara and Team Banks right now. Equally.”

I believe her. She truly cares about me and Akara, and she’s not going to needlessly string one of us along. When she knows who she wants to be with in the end—she’ll tell us.

Akara snaps a finger to his palm, eyes on me. “So Thatcher knows you kissed Sulli. Charlie knows I kissed her. That sounds almost even.”

“Almost,” I agree. Because we both know Thatcher’s more likely to take this secret to his grave than Charlie’s likely to keep this secret to tomorrow.

Continuing our hike, we reach an area in the woods that has the best vantage of the Team Apex campsite, while we’re out of earshot. All three of us crouch behind two large boulders.

I pass Sulli a pair of binoculars.

She puts down her harness and peers through the binoculars, looking out for movement. Before Sulli began her climb today, we released crickets in Team Apex’s tents.

Now we wait.

Hopefully they’ll spend as much time clearing out the insects as we did the snakes. I light a cigarette, and both Akara and Sulli shoot me disapproving looks.

I blow smoke away from them. “What? You two have never had a smoke during a stakeout before?”

They’re trying not to smile.

Times like these, Akara would smoke a cigarette. He’s a social smoker. But he must really want me to quit because he doesn’t ask for one.

“I think I see their Jeep,” Sulli whispers in eagerness. She lowers the binoculars to double-check.

Sure enough, the Jeep Wrangler is headed to their campsite. After everything, I need a win. Let this be one.

Akara’s phone buzzes loudly in his pocket at the same time Sulli’s chimes. She fumbles to remove it from her backpack on the ground, while Akara slides his out.

I take the binoculars and peer through.

They’re piling out from the Jeep. Looks like they’re aimed for the campfire, carrying bundles of logs. Thankfully they’re not searching for the cellphones ringing out in the distance.

I’m about to ask Akara and Sulli who’s calling, when my phone pings.

Xander Hale is sending a text to a group chat with Thatcher and me.

Rare.

He’s only sixteen.

When we were his full-time bodyguards, he was supposed to only use the thread for emergencies since he’s a minor and we report to his parents. Sometimes, though, he’d recommend us fantasy TV shows and books to watch. More so lately, our text communication is about boxing since Thatcher, Farrow, and I started to teach him on our days off-duty.

But the message I’m staring at now has nothing to do with Jon Snow or Frodo Baggins, the dweeby-looking elf, goblin thing, or sparring when we come home.

Banks. Thatcher. PLEASE don’t let Donnelly get fired. It’s not his fault!! – Xander

What in the fuck happened?

34

AKARA KITSUWON

Sometimes I have to remind myself that I don’t work for Price Kepler anymore. Now that I own my own security firm, he can’t fire me from Triple Shield. But Price isn’t a bad guy. He’s been there for Daisy Calloway since his early twenties.

Young.

So young.

And now I’m young, just twenty-seven to his forty-some-years, and I’m protecting Daisy’s daughter. I’ve respected Price. Admired what he built. Having the Tri-Force—three leads to rule them all—awarded his men power alongside him.

He gave me power as a lead in his firm.

He respected my calls, my decisions. And when I told him I was creating a security firm, we were cordial.

But the minute Triple Shield had egg on their face from losing the girl squad in Anacapri—he began resenting me for building Kitsuwon Securities. Which looked shinier, better, newer, younger.

Recently, my firm has had missteps with temp guards screwing up and Charlie getting robbed at the Carnival Fundraiser. So Price should feel better.

Instead, he’s just patronizing me ten-times more. Like my company is a liability to his company and a liability to these families.

That enrages me.

And as he lays into me over the phone right now, you’d think I was back in Philly and a brand-new bodyguard on his fleet.

My grip tightens harder on the cell. Pretty fast, I get the gist of what happened.

What I know: most of the parents were gathered at the Hale house, and they invited Price and the Epsilon lead over to talk about security at Dalton Academy, the prep school that the girl squad and Ben attend.

They heard a splash. When they ran outside, they saw Ben in the pool. Apparently, Xander and Ben were having an argument. Donnelly got between both teenagers to deescalate the situation, and Ben fell in the water.