I tell Banks, “Looks like we’re the number one platonic bromance.”
“Rightfully.”
I laugh, and then our attention sharpens as Sulli is on the move. We follow her, Banks out front and me behind, and maybe five minutes in, Dean catches up to her again.
“Meadows!” he calls again like before.
“Hey, congrats,” she says. “I didn’t know you two were together.”
“Uh…we weren’t really—not officially at least.” He laughs a little. “He wanted to wait until after the competition to make things official. Keep our heads in the game.”
Sulli nods slowly. “Sounds like Kingly.”
“What?” Dean can’t hear over the fireworks.
“Sounds like Kingly!”
He nods, grinning. “Definitely is! Picture?!” They snap a couple, then he moves in even closer, and I abruptly extend an arm to stop him.
What’s in his fist?
Dean looks pissed. “I’m her teammate, man!” Fireworks pop, pop, pop. “Christian Dean…remember me?”
“I know who you are!” I yell back, not admitting that four years ago, I thought maybe he’d end up with Sulli. Why’d I even push for that? If they hooked up, I would’ve smacked my head into a brick wall and called myself an idiot on repeat.
“Then what’s the problem?!”
“What’s in your hand?!”
“Oh…” Flustered, he outstretches his palms. Small bottles of liquor in his fist. “Want one?! I brought lots! Was gonna offer Meadows one too!”
“I’m good.” I pat his shoulder and sidestep to let him pass. I already know what Sulli will say to him, but I’m still going to let her make the choice herself.
Banks hawk-eyes Dean as he moves towards Sulli.
Through comms, I hear Banks ask, “What does he have?”
“Minis,” I tell him.
Banks nods and turns back to face forward. Like me, he knows what Sulli will do.
“Meadows!” Dean holds out a mini bottle of vodka.
She shakes her head. “I’m good. Thanks.”
“You sure?!” Dean asks. “It’s a party!”
“I’m fucking sure!”
After an awful night months ago, Sulli made the decision to stay sober. Banks made the decision to give up smoking in solidarity.
And me, I just tried to hold the three of us together. Besides the gunpoint incident, that frat party was one of the worst nights of our summer.
For all of us.
38
SULLIVAN MEADOWS
2 MONTHS BEFORE THE OLYMPICS
MAY
Panic surges through me as I scream into my phone. “LUNA!” I yell, trying to capture her attention. It’s an obvious butt-dial. Loud music blasts from her side and muffled voices pile on top of each other.
But I know what I heard.
Someone said: You fucking bitch.
It sounded nasty.
Now everything on her end returns to a jumbled mess of commotion.
Sweat drips off my brow, the barbell in its rack. I straddle the old weight bench in my bedroom and try to catch my breath so I can listen better.
“Fuck…a dick…bitch.”
My heart pounds. “LUNA!” I scream again, hoping she can hear me. I just want to make sure everything is okay. Especially since she’s at a frat party tonight. She texted to see if I wanted to go. She’s one of the few family members who don’t mind tempting me with a good time, knowing I’ll reject the offer. I appreciated the invite, even if I felt a little fucking badly telling her I had to train.
Akara has been Luna’s bodyguard for months now. I could call Kits and ask if everything is okay—but calling Akara involves hanging up on Luna. Something I hesitate to do until I have more answers.
“Suck…it.” The deep drawl comes across the phone again.
“LUNA!” I yell.
My bathroom door whooshes open. Banks appears completely buck-naked. I’m too worried to really soak in his confident, unbothered stance that practically says I’m ready to cross the Wild Wild West for you. His concern doubles as he sees my panicked expression.
“What in the fucking hell is happening?” He rushes to my side.
“I don’t fucking know.” I hop up from the weight bench and explain the butt-dial and what I’ve heard so far.
First thing he grabs is not a pair of pants. He goes for his radio on the dresser. I watch as he quickly switches on comms. Clicks the mic. “Banks to Akara, who’s on Luna’s detail tonight?”
My stomach lurches.
“Isn’t Akara supposed to be on her detail?”
Banks wipes a hand down his mouth. “He had some meeting with my dad…”
Fuck this. I round to my nightstand and grab the keys to the security SUV. I can’t stay here while Luna is at some frat party getting hounded by assholes or worse. Please don’t be worse.
Please fucking please.
Banks frowns deeply, and I suspect he got an answer.
“What?” I ask him.
He shakes his head once. “Akara was short with me. Just gave me a couple names.” His eyes flit to mine. “One of them is Frog.”
Frog.
Akara’s cousin.
The greenest of the green temps! Fucking fuck. “He put Frog on Luna’s detail? For a frat party?” My blood runs ice-cold. Eyes bugged wide.
“There’s another temp with her,” Banks reminds me like it should be okay.
It should be.
But I know what I fucking heard!
“It doesn’t sound good, Banks.”
“Is the line still connected?” He picks up my phone.
“A lot of it is muffled,” I admit, but I know Banks believes me. He puts the speaker to his ear, listening intensely.
“I can’t hear Luna.”
“She might be too quiet.” She’s a fucking pro whisperer.
Urgency suddenly narrows his gaze, hardens his face.
“What’d you hear?”
“A guy shouted, get back here.” He hands me my phone, just as his cellphone rings on my bed. I see the Caller ID, and Banks sprints to answer the thing. I put my cell to my ear, trying to hear the conversation from the frat.
“Fuuuuuck.” A deep groan comes out in a frustrated tone. “Where are you going?”
I don’t know what’s happening. But after the sound of footsteps, the line goes quiet. I check my phone screen. Call dropped.
Did she hang up?
Did her phone die?
Did she lose fucking service?
“We’ve got to fucking go, Banks,” I say, and then I add something I’m betting Luna would want. I tell him, “Don’t alert Moffy. Not yet. Whatever is happening…if it’s something innocent, Luna won’t want her brother involved unless it’s totally necessary.”
She would call Moffy if it’s an emergency.
As far as I’m aware, Maximoff is still sleeping. And that lessens the fear that squeezes my throat in a vice. She has to be okay. She hasn’t called Moffy. She has to be okay.
But I want to make sure.
Banks talks to Akara, cell pressed to his ear, and gives me a nod. “Akara’s gonna meet us there. Luna’s temps aren’t rogering up.”