Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 145257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
It’s going to put a strain on Akara, seeing as how his company is in an unofficial competition with Price’s.
Even though Price Kepler has been my mom’s bodyguard for so long—before I was even born—my parents still weren’t upset that Akara jumped ship and started his own firm. My mom was really fucking excited for him. She said it suited him more being his own boss.
As Neil stops at a sleek black trailer, I hear off in the distance, “Ca-Caw! Ca-Caw!”
I cup my hands to my mouth. “Ca-Caw! Ca-Caw!”
My little sister rounds the corner with the biggest smile. Her backpack thwacks against her as she races towards me. Her copper-haired bodyguard jogs next to her, not having a hard time keeping up with my fifteen-year-old sister.
I close the distance and we hug tight. She’s only an inch shorter, and with thick-soled Timberland boots, we’re the same height. Wearing cargo pants and a men’s baggy, khaki-colored button-down knotted at her belly button, she looks pretty fucking cool.
“How was the flight?” I ask as we break away. “Are you hungry? I’ve got snacks in Booger.”
“I had food on the plane.” Nona bounces on her feet, dropping her backpack to the ground. And she holds out her hand.
I smile big as I shake her hand into a fist-bump, then it devolves in a much longer sequence. A secret greeting formed one muggy summer at Camp Calloway. Two hip-bumps, we throw our arms in the air, rattling them to the sky, then spin in two circles. Crouching low, we’re face to face again and flutter fingertips to fingertips. Then I hook her elbow with mine and we skip ‘round, howling at the sky.
And we don’t pull apart.
Instead, we draw nearer, our foreheads pressed together in a huddle. My arms around her shoulders, her arms around mine. This close, she’s all I see.
I’m all she sees.
Private. At least for us. We’re fucking aware other people are watching. They’re always watching, but in this moment, in our huddles, it’s just me and my sister.
Winona whispers with a smile, “I wish you would’ve been on the plane ride here—Greer was rolling at my farts.”
I laugh, smiling so much my face hurts, realizing just how much I missed her.
“They smelled horrible. I tried to hold them in.”
“You did?” I whisper skeptically.
“I did,” she grins. “My stomach hurt when we landed I tried so hard. I didn’t want to asphyxiate every passenger, they were that bad, Sulli.” We laugh together. “This one prick behind us thought Greer was the farter. It got so bad that the guy told Greer to stop passing gas, and I told him, sir, I’ve been farting, not him. The guy looked like he saw a ghost. He said nothing, just shrunk backwards in his seat.”
We laugh again, and as the sound fades, her brown, hazel-flecked eyes rest softly on my green. It’s my turn to share in our safe, private huddle.
I could bring up something funny. Like how my boob itches from at least three ant bites. But that’s not really what I need to share. What I want to share.
Because I want to tell her the truth about what I did. I’m just scared of my sister’s reaction.
Foreheads still pressed together, I drop my gaze. “After a practice climb on this route called The Bitterroot Buttress, Akara, Banks, and I were hiking back to our camp…and two cougars stalked us.”
Winona holds her breath. I’m not looking, but I feel air vacuum between us.
“I killed a cougar, Nona.” Pressure mounts on my chest like the animal is back on my body. “I used the gun Dad gave me, and I killed her.” I finally raise my eyes to hers.
Tears are streaming down her soft cheeks.
“Why are you crying?” My voice breaks.
“I’m crying because you’re crying.” Her chin quakes. My face is wet.
I try to laugh but it cracks. “I’m sorry, Nona.” I’m so afraid she’s going to look at me differently, but her wet lashes and glassy eyes stay on me with condolences and love.
“I don’t think I could’ve done it, Sulli.” She cries with me. “I would’ve let the cougar kill me.”
“Stop.”
“No, I would’ve. And it’s good. It’s good that you were the one there…” We’re both nodding to each other, foreheads together, sucking in snotty tears. “It’s good,” Winona breathes, “because Mom and Dad can’t lose either of us. And I can’t lose you, not to an animal, not to a mountain—I just can’t.” We shift our heads and come together in the tightest hug, tears soaking each other’s shoulders.
We stay like that for a few more minutes. And she asks if I got hurt. I tell her about everyone’s wounds, but that we’re all okay.
She’s not disappointed in me for taking an animal’s life. She’s just happy that I’m alive. Weight eases off my chest.