Page 21 of Wild Like Us

“Dad—”

“Do you even realize who you’re named after?” His voice rose and he paused quickly to breathe through his nose.

In his silence, my veins iced. “Adam Sully.” I saidhisname.

My namesake.

I watched my dad’s eyes glass. He took a full minute to formulate words. “I’m not losing you to the mountain, too.”

I touched my chapped lips. “I’m not going to fall. I’m smart. I’m calculated. You know this about me. I’dnevertake a risk that I couldn’t complete.” Injuries were death knells for me growing up. Being careful is something that Meadows aren’t known for, but I broke that mold a long time ago.

“You wouldn’t do the ultra-marathon without Moffy, but you want to go do this?”

I wanted to complete the ultra-marathon because my dad had accomplished the same run. The Atacama Crossing in Chile. Maybe I have something to prove to myself. That I’m as strong as he was at my age. Maybe I’m sentimental and just driven by a connection to my dad and these moments in life that are so beyond reason.

The spiritual feeling of accomplishing something that takes every ounce of heart, grit, and mental fortitude, I want that with each goal. And to know that I understandthat feeling—that I share this withhim—it drives me to go after the things he once did.

With his bad knee, he couldn’t run the ultra-marathon with me. I felt like it’d be too dangerous for me to run alone. No bodyguard would be able to keep up.

Only Moffy could.

“Free-soloing is different than the ultra,” I told him. “Bodyguards can be at a cliff site if something happens—butit won’t.I’m going to climb the route with gear first. Over and over.” I’d never free-solo without practicing with safety equipment.

He kept shaking his head. “No. You’re not doing it. End of the fucking story.”

“You can’t force me not to,” I said stubbornly. “I’m twenty-fucking-one.”

He went pale. “You’re still mykid.”

“And you know me better than anyone,” I said. “You know that when someone says,you can’t. I’m going to prove them wrong.”

He ran a hand through his hair and then dropped it to his side. “You step foot in Nevada, California, Montana”—he listed the states off his fingers—“Wyoming, Colorado, Utah, Arizona…I’m coming to collect your ass.”

That left the smaller rock faces. Easier climbs. Less preparation and training. Ones I could do in a few hours.

I frowned deeper. “You’ve always believed in me. I don’t fucking understand.”

His face shattered for a second. “I still believe in you. But Sulli…you drive his fuckingJeep.” He pointed at the door. “You have his fucking name.”

I waited for him to add another fact that we both knew. The one that would send a blade through my heart.My birth almost killed my mom.And even before that,my conception was harder than hell. It took a lot for me to make it into the world, so I don’t hold my life in my hands with carelessness. I understand the toll it took to bring me here. And my mom’s fertility struggles meant she couldn’t even get pregnant again after me. Winona is biologically my mom and dad’s daughter, but she was carried to term by our Aunt Rose.

I waited for those words from my dad.Sulli, your birth almost killed your mom.

But they never came. A silence hung in the air, and I realized that no matter how angry my dad was, he’d never hurt me that bad.

I breathed in harshly. “So if I were Winona, you’d be okay with this?”

He didn’t say anything.

It was a resoundingyes.

If my name weren’t Sullivan.

If he didn’t give me Adam Sully’s Jeep.

If I hadn’t been so wrapped inside his best friend’s death, then maybe my dad would’ve given me his blessing.

Instead, it’s seven in the morning and I’m currently riding in that old green Jeep, the one I treat like my baby.