Fearless Like Us (Like Us 9)

“Excuse me—our girl.” I wear a crooked smile that disappears. Logistics are hanging unkindly over me. Not a fan of them, but I have to ask, “What about publicly? Are we confirming we’re all together then?” It’s the biggest jump we’ve all been avoiding.

Akara comes to a halt at a naked tulip tree. His heavy breath visible in the night. “The threat hasn’t changed, Banks. We confirm the poly relationship; she’s in danger. Those are the facts.”

“I know,” I breathe, scraping a hand along my jaw. “But it’s not fair if her and I can kiss in public and you two can’t do a damned thing. And how long will that really last? You two are never careful out there—”

He rolls his eyes, and I add fast, “SFO literally thought you two were together for years.”

“We weren’t,” he combats but then sighs out, knowing now how they flirt. Even as “just friends” they flirted like they were screwing behind closed doors.

“Look, your dynamic won’t change—and I wouldn’t want it to. Neither would Sulli.”

“What are you saying, Banks?”

I raise my shoulders. “Maybe the least messy, complicated solution is to tell the full truth. We’ll handle the fallout. It’s what we do.”

“You say our dynamic won’t change, but you know everything will change,” Akara whispers strongly. “Just leaving the house will be a warzone. Every single day, Banks. She’s not a Marine like you. She could be scarred for life—you saw Winona tonight just dealing with a neighborhood bully. That’s going to stay with her for years. Intensify that by a thousand for Sulli—that’s what we’d do to her.”

My eyes burn. “You don’t need to convince me it’s a dangerous path. I just see things differently. Her safety vs. her happiness—I’m throwing myself towards her happiness.”

“That’s the thing, Banks. She’s not happy when she’s not safe.”

“She’s not happy living a lie—”

“A half-truth.”

“Six of one, half a dozen of the other—it’s the same shit.” I can see guilt eating at her for giving me more and giving Akara less. I can see frustration eating at all of us.

Akara stares up at the crescent moon. “She might not even want to publicly confirm all three of us, and then the point is moot.”

I bob my head. “That’s true.” If she’d rather be more cautious, I’d go down that road with Sulli and Akara.

He speaks even quieter. “Leaving things how they are publicly might be the best route, especially if she’s pregnant.”

I go still, no muscle even twitching. “She’s taking Plan B.”

“She hasn’t yet, Banks,” Akara whispers. “She can change her mind.”

On the car ride here, Sulli talked about her mom’s fertility issues, how difficult it’d been for Sulli to come into the world. If she has a last second change of heart, I’ll ride that change with her. But she still seemed set on taking Plan B.

“I think she’ll take it,” I tell him.

Akara thinks this over. “Even then, Plan B is only 87% effective. We can’t be shocked if weeks later she’s pregnant.”

We hold tighter, grimmer gazes. We haven’t talked about babies. What that’d even mean for our relationship, but we understand what it’d mean for Sulli’s safety.

Pregnancies provoke media attention. It’s set in history.

“Highest threat level,” Akara says with severity.

“We’ll protect her in public, no matter what. We always will,” I remind him, and our heads turn as SFE shines their flashlights towards us again.

“Let’s finish this,” Akara declares. We go back to work, and after the perimeter is secured, he calls Sulli, “Can you meet us at the end of the driveway? We need to talk.” He listens. “Okay, great. See you.”

We need to talk. His choice of words is something.

I’d bet my second-born that Sulli is freaking out right now.

58

SULLIVAN MEADOWS

I sprint with all my fucking might down the winding driveway. Hair whipping behind me, cold numbing my cheeks—I just run towards Kits.

He’s going to say goodbye. He’s leaving.

I run like I’m losing time with him. Like there’s no time even left. Why can’t I have eternity? Why is the world standing in our way?

Let us be.

Heart slamming, legs pumping fiercely, I weave down the path, and the mailbox comes into view. Banks and Akara rotate to face me at the same handsome fucking time—like I’m Kate Winslet on the Titanic, dreaming as two Leonardo DiCaprios spin and extend a hand.

Only in my reality, I barrel past them, unable to break my forceful stride in enough time. And I have to double-back in an arc and sharp breath, “Kits—”

“Sul—”

“I love you,” I cut him off strongly. “I fucking love you, and I’d rather have you and live in madness than not have you at all. So don’t go—”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Akara emphasizes, concern and distress all over his face. “I would’ve never had sex with you and then broke things off—I’m not trying to emotionally toy with you or confuse you. I’m trying to be better than I was, than I did.”