Wild Like Us - Krista Ritchie Page 0,88

other campsite.

Finished eating, we let the fire die out. Banks unzips the tent and crawls in first, Sulli is close behind.

“Oh fuck,” Sulli curses.

“Akara. Out,” Banks says quickly. Instinctively, I grab Sulli around the waist and pull her out of the tent.

“I’m fine, Kits,” Sulli says, but she’s breathing heavily. “Banks, get out of there!”

Banks still hasn’t left the tent and now I’m worried about him. He’s one of my men. His wellbeing matters to me. But I also know it’s more than that.

“Banks! Leave the fucking tent!” I yell, and to Sulli, I ask, “What’s going on?”

29

SULLIVAN MEADOWS

“Snakes,” I breathe hard, adrenaline spiked. “There are fucking snakes in there, Kits.”

I know what I saw. At least three-dozen snakes are slithering underneath and around our sleeping bags inside the tent.

It has to be a practical joke.

I wish I got a better look to distinguish the exact type of snakes. Venomous or not, some fucking creep crept into our tent and placed them there. They couldn’t have just fallen from the sky. We’ve been here for a whole week, and I haven’t seen a single snake.

“Banks!” Akara yells again. “Get your ass out here. Now!”

Fuck, Kits sounds mad. Maybe even worried. I doubt he wants to mess around with fate after it literally bit him. His elbow is still bandaged, and his stitches are coming out tomorrow morning. Banks and I even conspired to buy him a surprise celebratory lunch. Which involved asking Jane and Thatcher to pick up a BLT at the diner in town.

My pulse races the longer Banks disobeys Akara’s direct order. I’m definitely worried for Banks. Snake bites are nothing to fucking fool around with.

Akara drops his hands off my waist. He’s about to rush to the tent when Banks ducks his head and steps outside the flaps.

In a tight fist, Banks grips five snakes by their necks. Their bodies writhe in the air. “They’re just garter snakes.”

I have my fingers to my temples, stunned. “What in the ever-loving fuck—you look like Baby Hercules.” Okay, I’m a lot impressed.

Banks’ brows cinch like he has no clue what I’m talking about. I don’t have time to explain the Disney movie Hercules to him.

Akara is fuming as he approaches Banks. “I don’t fucking care if there are koala bears in there. I told you to get out here.”

“And now I’m out here,” Banks says, eyes softened on his friend. “Akara—”

“I’m making the calls when we take risks,” Akara snaps, his nose flaring. “You could have assessed the situation from outside the tent. No one was in there to save. If you came in contact with a single poisonous snake, Banks, you’d be dead. Think of Thatcher.”

“He has Jane,” Banks retorts. “He’ll be okay without me.”

Akara shakes his head like that’s so far from the truth. “No one can ever fill that void you’ll leave behind, and I know you know it. And if you won’t think of him, then think of Sulli before you pull that reckless shit.” He points to me.

My lungs collapse as my eyes meet the pain in Banks’. I see the words before he says them, “She has you, Akara.” He turns to his friend. “When I’m gone, you’ll hardly notice a difference.”

“That’s such bullshit,” I cut in, my voice almost quaking with emotion. My heart is slamming against my body. Like it’s trying to take flight and fling itself in his face. “I care about you, Banks.” I don’t forget that Akara is here.

I don’t forget that these words might hurt him.

But Akara was the one to pull me into the picture, so maybe he knew Banks needed this moment, my words, my truth, my feelings out loud—even if it’d hurt him in the process.

I come closer. “I don’t want to see you in pain. I don’t want to see you fucking die! You mean something more to me—if you didn’t, then why is the idea of never having you so fucking agonizing?”

His eyes redden. We both breathe harder, staring at one another, and then I brave a glance at Akara. He has a hand over his face. Distressed.

“Kits, I…” I pant like I’m running the longest marathon of my life. “…you know that choosing wouldn’t be this hard if I didn’t have feelings for you, too.”

He drops his hand, nodding. His eyes are bloodshot like Banks’. His gaze is gentle on me. “I know, Sul.”

Glancing back to Banks, I exhale, “Can you please drop those fucking snakes, Hercules? I can’t take you seriously

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