Akara breathes through his nose, so pent up with anger that he has to turn his back to my dad. He tries his best to cool off, even as Banks squeezes his shoulder.
I think my dad can’t conceptualize that I’m dating both men because he’s solely focused on Akara and his role as a bodyguard in my life.
My dad keeps going. “It’s not about money, but you’re getting money from her to do a job! Instead, you did what?!”
No one says anything as the rhetorical question lingers. Quiet seeps into the taut air. The longer we just stand and breathe and feel, pain and guilt continue to twist my dad’s face—guilt, I think, for agreeing to put Akara on my detail for all those years.
I don’t want to hurt my dad. That was never my intent in all of this.
As more pain snakes around us, I want to yell about how Moffy and Jane pay their husbands to protect them, but my throat is swollen closed. My dad is fueled by something I can’t understand. I’m not a parent.
And the trauma surrounding my birth has left scars that are ripping back to open wounds.
Wind picks up, and birds caw in the distance. My dad turns his glare to the ground. “Sulli,” he says to the earth and dirt, then up to me. “You’re coming home with me. Right fucking now.”
Tears threaten to spill from my eyes. He’s just protecting me. He’s just protecting me. He’s just protecting me! Then why does it hurt so fucking much? I don’t want to choose between my dad and them.
It was wishful thinking, wasn’t it?
To think I could have it all with no horrible consequences.
I don’t want to lose my dad.
I can’t.
I can’t.
Silence eats between us.
My dad glares up at the sky, then down, then back to Akara and Banks. Fists are clenched at his sides. “Sulli, get in the fucking car.”
The car isn’t even in sight. We have to hike the trail back to the parking lot first.
Akara has a hand on his head, breath shortened and face practically shattered. Banks is unblinking, staring into me as I look from Kits to him, back to Kits, back to him.
Banks nods once to me like, it’s okay, but his eyes are bloodshot. Has he blinked at all? Is he barely breathing too?
I want to run towards them.
Into their arms.
Not away.
I’ve finally found that can’t-eat-can’t-sleep, reach-for-the-stars, over-the-fence, World Series kind of stuff. A movie quote my mom always recited from It Takes Two. Love that she always talks about, and I think back to those days in Yellowstone under an October sky. Where pain and fear after the animal attack were washed away to utter peace and solace. How fucking scared I was—how I couldn’t let go of a gun, but they were there; they were there. And through glassy eyes and staggered breath, I let go of my fear and embraced both men, and then I couldn’t let go of them. Because nothing else felt better.
Nothing else felt more right.
My heart called me in their direction—it’s been calling me towards them—and running away will destroy so many pieces of me.
“Let’s go,” my dad says, picking up his fallen rappelling gear.
“No,” I breathe out my decision in a wave of pain. “I’m going back with Akara and Banks.” I have to. And I start to walk to them.
Banks rests a comforting hand on my shoulder, and my dad turns his gaze back on me, narrowed in on his hand and my shoulder.
Something snaps in my dad, and he lunges. Dropping the rope again, he frees his hand and shoves Banks hard.
“DAD!” I scream.
Banks staggers back several feet away from me. My dad stalks forward like he’s going to rip Banks to shreds. Akara is pulling Banks even further away from my dad, trying to protect him.
“DAD!” I scream again, rushing after him. I trip over the rope.
My knees hit the dirt.
“You fucking touch her, and you’re dead,” he growls. “You fucking hear me?”
No, fuck. No, no, no.
“We already have, sir,” Banks says.
I look up just as my dad swings. He punches Banks in the jaw, and Akara wrenches Banks back so forcefully that Akara takes the second blow to the stomach.
“NO!” I’m crying and clawing at the dirt to stand. “STOP!” I scream bloody murder, barely able to see the scene through my tears. “I LOVE THEM! STOP! PLEASE FUCKING STOP!” My voice is horrific and hoarse, and my dad instantly backs away like I rattled him awake.
He blinks hard and breathes heavily. Two hands fly to his head. I’ve never seen his anger directed anywhere near the people I love.
“Dad,” I say, softer this time. I pick myself up, dirt coating my hands, and I stumble towards him.
2
SULLIVAN MEADOWS
My dad can’t meet my eyes. Something raw floods them, something that wells a pit in my ribs, and I want to excavate the hurt but I don’t know how. I’ve never felt this before, not from him.
“I’m leaving,” he says, almost in a whisper. “Before I do something…” He grimaces, his scowl darkening, and he pinches his eyes. Because he did already do something.
Banks spits a wad of blood on the dirt.
Akara is coughing from getting the wind knocked out of him.
My lungs burn from breathing so hard. “I don’t want to leave this conversation like this. Can’t we talk it out?”
He drops his hand from his face. “I’m not good at talking,” he says roughly, staring at the ground, then the sky, then the distance to the parking lot, then wincing at me. “Call your fucking mother, Sul.” His eyes well up the longer he stares at me, so he just turns around.
He walks away slowly, like each step is a thousand pounds in agony. I know it must be excruciating for him to leave me here. When he thinks I’m in harm’s way, all he wants is to keep me safe forever.
But he punched the two men I’m in love with, and is there any coming back from that?
As he disappears through the woods, leaving behind his gear, the pain surges inside me. I’ve never really been at odds with my dad or my mom. It feels worse than disappointing them.
It feels like I’ve lost my dad.
I rub the dirt off my palms in a trance.
“Sulli,” Akara breathes.
I blink back more tears and turn to my boyfriends. They’ve come closer, and their concern envelops me.
“I’m so fucking sorry,” I say, throat scratchy and tight. “I didn’t think he’d react like this. I mean, I knew he might be hostile at first, but not to the point where he’d hit you guys.” I glance up at Akara, then Banks. Not thinking, just doing—I reach up and cup Banks’ unshaven jaw, inspecting the cut on his lip. Time slows, but the hurt stays in our silence. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
Banks tries to smile, but it’s faint and weak. “Not the first time someone’s tried to hit me, mermaid.”
“Won’t be the last,” Akara says, but he can’t force a smile either. He exhales a tensed breath. “Shit. I wish that went a lot better.”
“I shouldn’t have told my dad,” I realize and drop my hand.
“No, hey, you did the right thing,” Akara assures.
Banks nods. “We all agreed to do what you feel—you did that.”
I try not to burst into tears. But I really fucking love them right now, for making me not feel like shit about the consequences of my decision today. Not only did I implode my relationship with my dad, but I put them in the crossfire of his anger. And I didn’t prepare them to deal with that heat.
I hug Banks’ side, then I hug Akara’s, and they squeeze back before I pick up the abandoned rappelling gear. I want to hug them longer. I want to roll around in the earth with them and pretend what happened was just a fucking nightmare and not real.
I want to kiss them, but turning back around feels like swimming through tar. If I just gather all the safety equipment, then maybe my mind won’t descend into replay mode.
Locking carabiners.
Non-locking carabiners.
A pull cord.
Rope.
Rappel device.
Two harnesses.
Check, check, check, and more checks.
Banks scans the wilderness around us. “Nothing good ever happens in quarries.”
The comment chills my bones.
I glance over at him. “This isn’t the same quarry where…” Where his brother Skylar died.
“No,” Banks shakes his head once, then lightly kicks a pebble. “Haven’t been to that quarry in forever.”
“Something good did happen here,” Akara contends.
“Yeah, you got the wind knocked out of you,” Banks teases.
Akara manages a half-hearted laugh. “Uh, no.” He playfully shoves Banks’ shoulder. I almost smile as Akara winks at me, then says, “Someone climbed a sweet rockface today.”
Banks bounces his head, his mouth nearly curving up as his gaze meets mine. “I remember that. She looked pretty happy on the descent.”
I was.
I am.
“Yeah, that was a good climb…one of the fucking best,” I mutter, throat still swollen, and I try to hang onto the happiness before I unleashed the bomb. I remember the closeness I felt with my dad at the peak. We just bonded in an intangible, spiritual way over a route he loves, and then…
Boom.
I blew it all up.
Was it worth it? I don’t fucking know. But I can’t imagine hiding this part of my life from him, so I’d have to share eventually.
As these thoughts toss and turn in the quiet, we all hike along the trail. Akara holds my hand while Banks rubs my back, then rests a strong arm around my shoulders.
Until we reach the parking lot, in public, and they let go. After piling the climbing equipment into the green Jeep, I slide in the back of Booger.
Banks is driving, and Akara fusses with the faulty air conditioning in the passenger seat. Behind them, I lift a knee to my chest and stare out the window. Headed back to Philly.
I replay my dad’s words over and over. His actions.
His hurt.
Their hurt.
My hurt.
How there was no painless way this could go, and I don’t want to be afraid to lose my dad. But I’m fucking terrified. He’s my rock. He’s been there to turn to my whole life, and now what? Should I even forgive him for his anger? Does he even want forgiveness?
Will we never speak again?
The thought obliterates me. I bawl into my hands, sobbing as pieces of me that have never torn are being shredded apart.
3
AKARA KITSUWON
Just as I give up fiddling with the A/C, I hear the sound of Sulli’s sobs. I turn. Banks tries to turn but keeps half his gaze plastered to the road.
Sulli shields her face in her hands. Practically buckled forward. She’s not someone who easily hides her emotions, and being her bodyguard—being her friend for years—I’ve seen her upset before. Only, these aren’t hot, angry tears or frustrated ones of defeat.
These are rare, guttural, and broken. And they’re a right hook to my heart. Not a second waiting, I’m gone. Crawling over the middle console, I slide into the backseat and wrap my arms around her.
“Sulli,” I whisper.
She cries against my chest, unable to unglue her hands from her face.
I hug her closer. “Your dad loves you. This isn’t the end.” Ryke has to come around. There’s no way I’d let her relationship with him just perish because of me.
Fathers.
I don’t have one anymore, but she does. And he’s always been good to her. Up until today, he’s been good to me too.
Her staggered breathing starts to ease up a little.
Behind the wheel, Banks rotates for half-a-second to check on her. He frowns, looking as concerned as I feel. “If your dad just needs to get another punch in to let off some steam,” Banks says as he switches lanes, “I’ll let him have at it.”
“No,” she mumbles in her palms. “No…more…” The next word comes out garbled.
Banks glances in the rearview. “What’d she say?”
“No more fighting,” I tell him.
I catch the faint rise of his mouth. And the smile on my face surprises me. Looks like we both find Sullivan damn cute in this moment, and I’m not jealous.
Actually, I’m loving that Banks sees what I see. And I love that seeing him love Sulli doesn’t freak me the hell out anymore.
But I’m not naïve. I know being in a relationship with the same girl will be complicated. Probably in ways that none of us are prepared for—because how the hell do you prepare for this?
It feels like just yesterday I learned poly romances happen in real life and not just fantasies.
Banks drives past a minivan. “Is it fighting if I let Ryke hit me?”
“Still fighting,” I tell him.
And he’s still my responsibility. One of my guys on Kitsuwon Securities. Only now we’re…attached? Metamours? Something that has grown strong and will hopefully grow stronger. The inverse would ruin everything.
Sulli breathes better, but her next words sound fractured. “It…hurts.”
I touch her hands that still shield her face. “One day, it won’t, and we’ll all laugh about this.”
“He’s a good dad,” Banks tells her.
Sulli sniffs loudly, uncovering her face. “Fuck.” She intakes a sharp breath. Her face is splotchy, and I brush my thumb over her cheeks. With a raspy voice, she asks, “How can you both be so fucking cool about him? Especially after it got physical?”
Banks lifts a shoulder. “It’s not every day a father hears the shit that he heard. Can’t expect him to take it easy. Not sure I would’ve either in his position.” He speeds up to pass some oncoming traffic. “I am pissed he walked away though.”
“He had to walk away,” I tell Banks. “He would’ve decapitated you.”
“But she wanted him to stay to talk it out. And he should’ve just sucked it up, pulled up his fuckin’ undies and talked.”
I shoot him a look. “You think that was a ‘clusterfuck’”—I use his word that he muttered to me on our hike back to the parking lot—“it would’ve been a hundred times worse if he stuck around.”
Honestly, I didn’t really expect Sulli to tell her dad—of all people—about our relationship first. I doubt Banks expected that bomb-drop either, but we know these families. I’d be terrible at my job if I was shocked that Ryke ended up swinging.
He’s known for talking with his fists.
“Yeah, I think Kits is right,” Sulli says sadly. “It’s good that he left before anything else exploded.”
“Like Akara’s confidence,” Banks says.
I look to Sulli. “Please kick the back of his seat for me.”
She almost smiles and she barely nudges his seat with her foot. To me, she says, “I reserve aggressive seat-kicks for the real fucking assholes.”
Banks laughs hard.
Yeah, she’s referring to me.
I playfully fling her hair in her face. Light touches her eyes, and I help her peel off a strand of hair that stuck to her wet cheek.
She rubs her runny nose with her palm. “Cum…fuck…snot is…everywhere. I’m a fucking—”
“Bombshell,” Banks interjects.
She blushes.
Banks has that effect on Sulli, but she’s also eyeing one of my arms that stays wrapped around her waist. With my other hand, I search the backseat pockets for tissues.
Suddenly, a blue T-shirt catapults at Sulli.
She catches.
I stop my hunt. Noticing a bare-chested Banks driving the Jeep. He stripped for her. Classic Moretti move, giving the shirt off his back.
“Banks the Barbarian,” I quip.
“You’re letting this barbarian drive,” Banks says with a crooked smile.
“You know it.”
Sulli nearly smiles too, and she lifts the tee to her nose, smelling Ba
nks’ scent. After a few inhales, she wipes the snotty mess on his tee, and her attention returns to me. “I’ve never seen you that angry, Kits.” Her green eyes look like the wild we just left. “Not like that, anyway.”
Hands back on the wheel, Banks chimes in, “You popped off.”
“I didn’t,” I refute.
“You did,” they say together, and out loud, Sulli wonders, “Was it because my dad was the one who went at you?”
“No, but,” I start to explain when I catch a glimpse of the traffic up ahead. “Take the next right, Banks.”
He takes a sharp right, the Jeep whipping fast. Shit. Just as Sulli starts to careen towards the door, I clutch her waist and pull her halfway on my lap.
Her breath hitches. And she grips onto my sculpted shoulder.
Is she okay?
I skim her with concern that we both recognize as something ancient and then I look into her with desire that feels raw and freshly discovered. My pulse upticks. This is still so new between me and her. A fledgling romance that we’ve let fly free around us.
I brush a few pieces of hair out of her face. Letting my fingers trace the carve of her squared jaw and along the softness of her pink lips.
“Thanks for the save,” she breathes, and I wait for her to slug me, but she drinks me in for a second before glancing to the driver’s seat.
Banks is catching glimpses of us through the rearview mirror. And she seems to be in her head about him.
We really need to go over the ground rules together. At least have some sort of consistent plan so she’s not paranoid about time and attention given to us and so jealousy isn’t a habitual monster.
What I know: I like watching them kiss. And Banks likes watching us kiss. More than anything, he probably hates chauffeuring us around, and the only reason he hasn’t called me back to the front seat is because A.) Sulli likes me back here and B.) I’m his boss. I order him around.
Keeping her partially on my lap, I try to take Sulli’s mind off our relationship. “So Ryke has laid into me before. If it were up to your dad, he’d be the one protecting you twenty-four-seven.” I think back to how I yelled at her father.
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