My lip lifts. “You’re coming in clear, mermaid.”
Our hands are still together. She stares longer at the scars along my fingers. “Did he physically hurt you?”
“No,” I say with the shake of my head. “My hands are beat-up from working with them most of my life. I worked on cars growing up.”
She nods, knowing I’ve been a mechanic.
“On the way to Montana, I told you the last thing my dad said to me before he left.”
“You’re the dispensable one,” Sulli says with hurt. “That was fucking cruel.”
I let out a laugh that sounds bitter and pained. “That was only half of it.”
Her face falls. “It gets worse?”
I hang my head, feeling the weight of that night bear on my neck. “I was twelve. It was the night my brother died, and my dad—in all his anguish of losing his firstborn son—he decided to turn to his youngest one and tell me, You’re the dispensable one. It should’ve been you.”
Sulli’s grip tightens around my hand. For me. She’s holding on for me. Not letting go. “Banks…”
I can’t look up. I stare at the water. “It’s not even the worst thing he said that night. I can’t forget how soulless he looked towards my ma when he told her, It’s your fault. You should’ve never let him ride out there. He’d still be alive if it weren’t for you. I tried to punch him for coming at her like that, and he put me on my ass in a second flat.”
“Fuck,” Sulli breathes. “He sounds…”
“Like a monster?”
“Yeah.”
I raise my eyes to the sky. Scanning. Then I look down at her. “He’s been distant ever since that night, ever since the divorce, and Thatcher forgave him without an apology or acknowledgement of what he said. They buried it, and if I can help it, I want nothing to do with him.”
“But you also want Kitsuwon Securities to succeed and not fail.”
I nod strongly. “Exactly it.” I glance over at her. “You gonna tell me that I should tell Akara?” He might be my best friend, but Sulli knows him a bit differently than I do.
“No.” She rests her chin on her knee. “He’d probably fire your dad if he knew. Deep down, Akara is as big of a lover as he is a fighter, and he’d hurt himself if it meant protecting you.”
He’d do the same for Sulli in a heartbeat.
I nod a few times. “He can’t know.” And another thought makes me crack a smile. Jesus.
“What’s so funny?” Sulli asks with an elbow-nudge.
“The boots Joey Junior stole—I was thinking about how my brother gave me his to wear after that, and they were too small.”
“Aren’t you the same shoe size as Thatcher…wait…” Realization suddenly washes over her face.
“They were Skylar’s boots,” I say what she’s thinking. “We all only had one pair of shoes, and Sky eventually saved up enough money from working at Cinema World to buy another pair for me. We didn’t tell our ma, or else she would’ve scraped up the money. But things were already tough.”
“Your dad was a Navy SEAL, right? Didn’t he have some money saved?”
“You’d be surprised how fast someone can blow money on shit they shouldn’t. Bad investments. Gambling. Not sure about his finances now, but my dad was in deep debt when I was a kid. And he dragged my ma down with him.”
She loosely holds her knees. “It makes sense why you said I have a good dad.” She takes a sharp breath. “He is really fucking good, and I don’t want you to think I take that for granted.”
“I never thought it,” I say. “You might’ve been given a lot, but you’re not ungrateful or some sort of brat. You also have good parents to thank for that.”
“Even if my dad is solely Team Akara?” she wonders.
“I’m ready for the whole world to be Team Akara.”
Hell, some already are. A false rumor picked up steam. One about how Security Force Omega is a group of fake bodyguards and every bodyguard is secretly dating their client.
Akara has been Sulli’s bodyguard.
So somewhere out there, fans are already carrying Team Akara signs and wearing Kitsulli stickers. What they don’t know is that I’m the number one Kitsulli fan.
Always will be.
Till the day I die.
“Saying that you’re okay with Team Akara and feeling it might feel fucking different,” she warns me.
I squint in the sun. “We’ll see.”
Just as I say the words, her phone pings across the patio. Sulli drops back into the water and swims to the other side. Once she grabs her cell off the ground, her face twists at the screen. Mostly looking sullen.
“You alright?” I ask.
“Not really,” she lets out a heavy breath. “It was a notification that my voice mailbox is full. I haven’t listened to any of the ones my mom left, and I can’t bring myself to fucking delete them.” Her lips descend further. “I’m just not ready…and I haven’t even talked to my sister.”