Page 102 of Wild Like Us

I’ve never had to tell this story out loud. It’d been a gift to go this long without unearthing that kind of pain. But it’s also agony keeping it buried in this moment.

Either way, I’m going to hurt.

“I had an older brother,” I mutter those words. I wonder if Thatcher explained this better to Jane. How perfectly did he unleash the past we share? I lift a shoulder. “He died when he was fifteen. Quarry accident. Drowned. I was twelve.”

Sulli takes in a breath. “Banks, I’m so fucking sorry.”

I shake my head. “It was a long time ago. I have mixed feelings about everything, so I like to leave it in the past.”

“That’s why you didn’t tell me?” Akara asks, hurt cinching his face. “Thatcher never said anything either…”

I bob my head. “We silently agreed to never speak about it.” I pause to meet his eyes. “I’m gonna be honest, Akara, I never planned on telling you or anyone, really.” I don’t add that I’d always hoped it’d come up between him and Thatcher, and I’d just let my twin brother explain it all.

“Why?” Akara frowns.

“Because that’s what we, Moretti boys, do.” I force the shovel back into the ground. “Weburythe back-breaking, head-splitting shit and don’t ever speak about it.” I ache for another cigarette.“Maybe because we love each other so damn much that it’s hard enough feelingmypain—do I really want to feel Thatcher’s on top of it?”

It’d cut me open tenfold.

It already does.

I add, “And then after a while, it takes too much energy to speak about the painful thing. So we don’t share with anyone until it’s more painful than the thing we buried.”

Akara stands up. “Hey, you know I’m here, man? Whatever you want to share with me, I appreciate.” He steps closer. “And I can’t imagine keeping my dad’s death a secret from my friends. That couldn’t have been easy.”

I let out a hoarse laugh. The ghost hand clenches tighter around my throat. “Easier than it probably should be.”

“What was his name?” Sulli asks, then cringes. “You don’t have to answer that. Fuck, you said you wanted to keep it in the past. I’m bad with words—”

“His name was Skylar,” I say quickly. “And I like your words.”

She lets out a soft breath. “One day, if you want to talk about him, I’ll be here to listen.”

“Me too,” Akara says.

Pressure eases off my windpipe.

I breathe in. “Thanks,” I say into a strong nod.One day,I hope I can tell them more. How my parents’ divorce is wrapped like a vice around Skylar’s death. How everything goes back to that one moment. How one night changed my whole world.

Tonight could’ve done the same thing.

Maybe it already has.

Like the turn of a car, heading in a new, unexpected and unknown direction. One we didn’t plan or map out, but one that was meant for us.

For whatever reason, we’re here together.

I lean the shovel against a tree to pluck another cigarette from the pack. “So we’ve got Adam Sully…” I put the cigarette between my lips. “My older brother.” I light it with a Zippo and suck on the end. My eyes hit Akara and blow out smoke. “And your dad.” With the cigarette pinched between fingers, I motion between the three of us. “What does that make us? Some sort of Death Brigade.”

“The Death Brigade,” Akara repeats with a short laugh and peeking smile.

“We all just made it out alive,” Sulli tells us. “Maybe that actually makes us the Life Brigade.”

“I guess we’ll see.” I grab my shovel and keep digging.

Not even five minutes later, Sulli curses loudly, “Fuck.” The handle of her shovel just broke off. I’m more surprised it hasn’t happened sooner.

I look to Akara. “Too strong for her own good.”