Headstrong Like Us

by Krista Ritchie

  “What?” Eliot gapes, his eyes glazed in a wine stupor. “Our little sister is missing, of course I’m going.”

  “Dad,” Ben says. “Nona is out there too.”

  “Security will find them,” Connor says smoothly. “We’re not debating this tonight.”

  Lily comes closer, panting like she’s been running around. “Luna and Xander, you’re also staying. We need people here in case the girls come back.”

  Quinn and Donnelly glance at the Omega boss for answers on where they should go. Stay with their client or join the search.

  “Stay back at the villas,” Akara tells them quietly. “If anything is out of the ordinary, alert the team.”

  Donnelly nods. “Sure thing, boss.”

  Luna shrugs, fine with her mom’s declaration. “I can babysit Ripley.” She weaves around the table and raises her arms towards him.

  Ripley blubbers in Maximoff’s hold.

  “I promise, Moffy,” she whispers to her brother, then looks up at me. “I’ll just read him a story until he falls asleep. Just find Kinney.”

  Kinney is missing. Her Rainbow Brigade incessant pride, blasé attitude, and death-glares are now a staple to my life. She’s become a little sister to me, and fuck, I’m pushing back the pressure on my chest. That uptight feeling is going to help no one.

  I’m the most at ease bodyguard in high-stress situations, and that shit can’t change.

  “We’ll find her, Luna,” I assure.

  Maximoff nods, and it takes him a good minute before he hands Ripley to his sister. I don’t want to leave our son either, but it’s safer if he stays with Luna. Still a different kind of pain tries to throttle me. Separating from him is never easy. I kiss Ripley’s head, and then I wrap a casual arm around Maximoff’s strict shoulders. His arms crossed.

  “The rest of us are in,” Jane declares, dressed in grannie jammies.

  I take note of which famous ones are left for the search party.

  Jane, Charlie, Beckett, and Sulli.

  And Thatcher says, “Let’s push out.”

  36

  FARROW KEENE

  None of the girls have a license and no cars were missing.

  The two oldest (Winona Meadows and Vada Abbey) are only fifteen, and our search party travels by foot, since that’s most likely how they left the villas.

  Trekking along dirt beside a one-way road, we point flashlights towards the rocks and sea on our left. The sound of water slapping jagged cliffs fills a void.

  “Maybe we should run?” Sulli asks, antsy. “That way this’ll go fucking faster and we’ll find them quicker.”

  “Or we’ll miss shit,” I say calmly, hiking a few paces behind Oscar, Charlie, Beckett, and unfortunately Beckett’s 24/7 bodyguard O’Malley. He’s on Epsilon and also not my favorite person, but he hasn’t been a prick tonight.

  Maximoff is quiet beside me, stringent and ready to tap into his survival training. I keep checking on him.

  “Our pace is good, Sul.” Akara tries to console. He’s been trying really hard to patch-up their friendship ever since the blow-up at the bachelor party.

  Her eyes dart to him, then away.

  It’s been fucking awkward. Everyone can tell.

  Sulli doesn’t do well with confrontation and the “aftermath”—and according to Akara, this is ten times worse than any fight they’ve ever had. But he isn’t throwing in the towel that easily.

  I do know that sometime after Key West, Sulli officially broke up with her wallpaper boyfriend—Will Rochester. So there’s that.

  Banks looks down at Sulli. “Want a higher view, mermaid?”

  Her eyes grow. “On your shoulders?”

  He nods.

  “Fuck, yeah…definitely.” She pauses. “Are you sure?”

  Biting a toothpick, a crooked smile hikes up his lip. “Yeah.” He crouches down. “Ready when you are.”

  Sulli swings her long, muscular legs over his broad shoulders. When he stands up at six-foot-seven, she has a better vantage than all of us.

  Akara passes her a bigger handheld searchlight. “See anything?”

  She flushes a little bit, glancing between Akara and the guy she’s sitting on. And then she flashes the light at the water. “It’s pitch-black.”

  I stop tuning into whatever that exchange is, and I hang my arm over Maximoff’s squared shoulders. “You okay?”

  He hasn’t spoken since we left the villas. Even now, he’s all hard lines and steel-caged fortitude.

  “I should’ve grabbed my backpack,” Maximoff says under his breath. “I was preparing for a media-related doomsday. Not this.” He gestures to the sea for the fourteenth time.

  It’s only the second night in Anacapri, and neither of us expected the girls to pull a full-fledged teenager moment. Hushed, I tell him, “The good here: this is easier to deescalate than any media shit storm.”

  He nods a few times, eyeing the earpiece splayed on my shoulder. Security is confirming cleared sectors of the town.

  I add, “And they’re just teenagers being teenagers.”

  “They’re also famous,” Maximoff says just as quietly. “They know better. My sister knows better. And I just keep thinking that the four of them, they’re not stupid. If they did sneak out, they would’ve come back before bed.” He shines his flashlight at the rocky cliffside.

  He’s afraid they’re hurt.

  One of them could’ve slipped and fallen.

  It just seems unlikely to me. If one fell, the others would’ve ran back to the villas or called for help.

  Doesn’t add up…unless they’re all hurt.

  I unzip my med bag and check the amount of supplies. Maximoff preparing for worst-case scenarios can be helpful, and I need to make sure I have everything for this one.

  I remember the car crash, and if I didn’t have a needle decompression kit at hand, Maximoff wouldn’t be here right now. What’s in this bag could be the difference between life and death.

  The street suddenly illuminates, and we all glance over our shoulders. Thatcher drives a security vehicle on the one-way road, his brights on, and Jane is perched in the passenger seat. Tires crawl slowly, keeping our walking pace.

  Beckett flashes light towards the town. “They’re probably at a bar and too nervous to order anything.”

  Charlie checks his phone. “I bet they’re sitting in a booth doing nothing.”

  Oscar scans the dark water. “We can only hope—motherfucker.” He winces and pries out his earpiece, along with Banks, Akara, and O’Malley.

  Earpiece speakers crack on my shoulder as the SFE lead screams, “KEEP YOUR EYES PEELED! I WANT EVERY HEAD ON A FUCKING SWIVEL, YOU HEAR ME?!”

  “He’s lost his motherfucking mind,” Oscar exhales.

  O’Malley looks everywhere but at us, embarrassed. Yeah, that’s his lead having a meltdown on comms.

  I’m elated that he’s not my superior. Not thrilled that he busted out my earpiece. I zip my med bag, supply count cemented in my head.

  Banks has his hands on Sulli’s thighs, securing her on his shoulders. “Sinclair knows his ass is on the line for this fuck-up.”

  “Yep,” Akara says and looks up at his client. “You alright, Sul?”

  “Um…yeah.” She whips the handheld searchlight. “I don’t see a fucking thing.”

  Boots crunch sticks, dirt, and loose gravel as we walk. We call out their names, but the sound of crashing waves drowns our voices.

  Oscar fits his earpiece back in, and I focus in on the silver hoop in his nose. I pierced him after my bachelor party, and I’m still surprised he’s keeping the thing in.

  He narrows his eyes at the road. “We’re approaching the Blue Grotto.” He names one of the most famous spots in Capri, a natural cavern with neon-blue water. Rowboats paddle through the mouth of the cave, and we have that activity set on the wedding itinerary this week.

  I wrack my brain and picture the map that I glanced at. “Swim coves are before the Blue Grotto.�
�� I snap my finger, trying to remember more. “It’s a beach, I think.”

  “It’s not really a beach.” Akara fits on his baseball cap.

  “My sister and I went swimming before breakfast,” Sulli informs us while Banks sets her on her feet. She nudges him with her elbow. “Thanks.”

  “It’s what I’m here for.”

  Maximoff looks confused. “Wait, so what is it?”

  “There’s no sand,” Sulli explains. “It’s a rocky cove with ladders to drop into the water.”

  Akara adjusts his earpiece. “If we keep left past the parking lot and bus stop, there are a few restaurants around the swimming coves.”

  Thatcher hangs an arm out of the car window. “They could either be at the coves or the restaurants.”

  Maximoff runs a hand through his hair. “My sister wouldn’t go swimming at night.”

  “Mine fucking would,” Sulli says, worry cinching her brows.

  “So would Vada,” Maximoff realizes, voice tight.

  Jane leans over Thatcher to speak to us. “My sister would join them in solidarity.”

  “Everyone, we’re staying together,” Akara declares. “We’ll go cove by cove, then hit the restaurants.”

  No one argues.

  Once the parking lot and bus stop come into view, Thatcher and Jane roll into a spot and switch off the ignition. Car doors shutting, they join us quickly, and our walk becomes a sprint.

  Stairs descend to flat rock, and we spread out on the sleek surface. I see remnants of sunbathers: tanning lotion, old sunblock, a crumpled soda. Looks like an aluminum can of Fizz Life.

  All the way in Capri. Puts into perspective how many billions that company is worth.

  I listen carefully, straining to hear voices.

  We swing our flashlights at the dark water. Mist spraying us.

  “Kinney!” Maximoff yells over the wind. “Vada!”

  “Audrey!” Jane screams and stumbles a little on wet rock. Thatcher places two hands on her wide hips, steadying her.

  “Winona!” Sulli shines her light at the swim ladders bolted to the rocky cliffside. Water splashes against those steps.

  It’s better if they aren’t here and just hitting up bars or late-night restaurants. So I’m hoping we don’t find them.

  At night, the sea is dark and empty.

  Maximoff and I trek ahead and follow the flat rocky terrace to the second cove.

  I aim my flashlight to my right.

  Fucking hell.

  Four heads bob above the water, hanging onto a swim ladder. “Maximoff.”

  “I see them.” He bolts, and I’m right beside him as he yells, “KINNEY!”

  37

  MAXIMOFF HALE

  “Moffy!” Kinney shouts. “Don’t come any closer!”

  Farrow shines a beam of light on the girls, and I go still.

  They’re naked.

  Or at least, it looks like they’re probably naked. Bare shoulders, collarbones—and thankfully water shrouds them chest-down. Because I don’t listen to Kinney.

  I reach the edge and squat to the ladder. I count four bobbing heads in the water. 1. Jet-black hair, bangs, and running mascara—that’s my sister. 2. Carrot-orange hair, fair skin, and sopping pink bow—there’s Audrey. 3. Dishwater-blonde hair in a messy top-bun—obviously Winona. And 4. braided sandy-blonde hair and gap-teeth—clearly Vada.

  “Are any of you hurt?” Farrow asks, squatting beside me.

  “Oh my God, they’re all here,” Audrey gasps in painful horror, clutching onto the ladder and staring at the rest of the search party who approach.

  Vada hangs onto Audrey’s back and peeks over her shoulder. “Even the hot ones?”

  “They’re all hot,” Winona adds, the only one treading water, not touching a thing. Kinney squeezes the ladder, nearest us.

  “Famous ones,” Farrow says easily. “You can gawk at the hot boys later. Again, are any of you hurt?” He unstraps the med bag.

  “Don’t let Oscar see me.” Audrey dips down in the water. They’re way too damn focused on SFO coming in. I doubt they even heard Farrow.

  I reach out a hand to help Kinney up.

  “No,” she snaps. “You can’t, Moffy.”

  I forgot she’s naked. Why the fuck is she naked? “Where are your clothes? How the fuck did you get here?”

  “It’s kind of a long story, Moffy,” Winona says. Usually she’s the ringleader of the group.

  The flat rock is big enough to fit probably twenty-five sunbathers, and everyone comes closer. I hear Akara speaking on comms.

  “Oh God, no, not my brothers.” Audrey is practically shriveled in embarrassment. “Go away, Beckett! You too, Charlie!”

  I glance over my shoulder. Charlie and Beckett are whispering to each other, exchanging deep concern. My pulse quickens, and I turn to the men on SFO.

  “Stay back for a second,” I tell them.

  “Jane!” Audrey calls, near-tears as her older sister rushes forward.

  “I’m here!” Jane kneels beside me.

  Towering behind me, Sulli frowns at her sister. “Fucking skinny dipping, squirt?”

  “Oh hey, no, it’s not what you think.” Winona cringes.

  “What does that mean?” I ask, concern mounting as all the girls look cagily between each other. Like it’s a massive secret that no one wants to unleash.

  Farrow swivels a knob on his radio. “Security and your parents are being informed.”

  We found the girls within a couple hours, which means my parents, aunts, and uncles probably haven’t reached critical freak-out levels yet. This is good. We’ll have them back home in no time.

  Winona swims closer. “Please don’t tell them we’ve been skinny-dipping.”

  Vada groans. “My dad’s gonna flip out. He’s so un-cool.”

  “I know, babe,” Winona says. “Moffy will make sure everything’s okay.”

  Jane whips around, searching for something with a flashlight. “Where are your clothes?”

  I stare at my pouting sister. “That’s what I asked.”

  Akara walks an inch or so closer. “What’s going on?” He glances over at Sulli.

  But Winona answers, “Our clothes are gone.”

  Kinney grumbles.

  “Speak louder,” Farrow tells her.

  “Some turds stole them, okay?!” Kinney yells.

  Jesus Christ.

  Other people were here. I see red, muscles rigid. Who the fuck would steal their clothes? How long have they been swimming here, stuck? I don’t know who I need to go after, but the faceless person is in my front windshield.

  “Let’s let them get out of the water,” Jane suggests. “Boys, can you turn around?”

  All of SFO, Charlie, and Beckett rotate their backs to the sea. Farrow and I stand up and take a few paces away from the ladder and turn too.

  “Anyone who’s wearing a shirt,” Sulli states. “Take the fucking thing off.”

  Only a handful of us are even wearing shirts. I ran out of the villa before putting one on. Farrow pulls his black tee out of his waistband and tugs the fabric off over his head. Akara, Banks, Oscar, and Charlie follow suit.

  Those four guys hand their shirts to me, since I’m closer to the girls, and I pass them to Sulli.

  “Listen to me, are any of you girls hurt?” Farrow asks, his voice more stern this time.

  “Just some scrapes,” Kinney says.

  He bends down to his med bag, unzipping and digging for supplies.

  I cross my arms over my chest, speaking more to the left so they can hear me. “Can you start explaining?”

  “Yes, why did you sneak out?” Jane asks.

  “We were just going to take a walk. We’re fifteen,” Winona emphasizes like they’re so damn old. I remember being that young, thinking I was wise and ancient and could do anything in the world. There’s something about being a teenager that makes you feel invincible.

  “Two of you are fourteen,” Farrow mentions, procuring
antiseptic wipes.

  “How’d you end up in the water?” I ask before my sister combats him.

  “So yeah,” Winona continues. “We may have run into some guys that dared us to come down to the cove and skinny dip.”

  You’ve got to be shitting me.

  “You all can turn around,” Jane says softly.

  I spin and my red-hot gaze lands on my little sister. Her hair drips on Banks’ white T-shirt that engulfs her small frame. “You took a fucking dare from strangers?”

  “They were very handsome strangers,” Audrey says, hugging her arms around her chest.

  “They were hot,” Vada rephrases and wrings out her hair.

  Winona finishes re-knotting her bun. “Like super hot gravy. You know, best on top. Except they turned into total douche-canoes.”

  I give my sister a look. She’s gay.

  Farrow raises his brows at Kinney. “Some random hot boys seduced you too?”

  “No,” she snaps, then sighs. “I’m afraid of nothing—I couldn’t turn down a dare.”

  I go cold.

  She stripped and swam in a cove because she’s prideful and impetuous—not because she wanted to impress anyone. Great. Just great.

  You will never know this happened. This won’t reach the media. This can’t follow them forever. It stays here.

  “These assholes stole your clothes,” I say, putting the pieces together.

  “And our phones,” Vada says.

  The security team goes rigid at those words.

  “We saw them go over there.” Winona points up to the top of a much higher cliff. “They threw them off.”

  38

  FARROW KEENE

  Needing to bandage Audrey and Kinney’s cut legs, I’m stuck on the flat sunbathing rock with O’Malley, Oscar, Thatcher, Jane, Charlie, and Beckett. It’s where I’m needed, but it’s not where I want to be right now.

  Not while Maximoff and the Meadows girls, Vada, Akara, and Banks climb a set of stairs, leading them to a cliff’s lookout point. Where these dipshits threw the girls’ belongings.

  Kinney tries to fight a wince at the antiseptic.