Page 183 of Wild Like Us
“We’d pass him,” I grunt. “We’re going the same way.”
Hour three, my legs start cramping. My fucking back throbs. I grit down, using all my force as I shove forward. The longer we keep at it, the Jeep feels heavier, like we’re trying to move a Humvee, then a tank, but I never stop.
Sulli never stops.
I’d push through any hell if I needed to, but the question is, is all we’ve got even enough?
“How many miles…” Sulli pushes the Jeep with her back, using her quad muscles, “do you think we’ve gone?”
Five klicks.“Maybe 3 miles.”
I check the time on my watch.
Zero four hundred hours. The sun isn’t close to rising. It’searlyon October 31st. An Unhappy Halloween. Because my brother is supposed to be getting married bright and early at zero nine hundred hours tomorrow.
We have only a little more than twenty-four hours to make it back to Philly, and I’m currently hundreds of miles away.
Sulli takes out her phone. “No service.”
Dammit.Sweat drips down my temples, my jaw.
She switches around, using her hands again to push. Sulli grunts and bites down, her biceps cutting sharp as she shoves harder.
She knows.
She knows how important being back in Philly is to me. She’d probably kill herself to get me there.
“Pace yourself,” I say in a heavy breath.
“We can make it,” she grits down with all the force she exerts.
My eyes burn, holding something back. “Don’t hurt yourself doing it.”
She only applies more effort, her face reddened, shirt caked with sweat. “Let’s go…faster.”
I breathe harder.
Hour four, she glances over at me with reddened, glassy eyes.
“We still have time,” Sulli says, voice choked, “…if we just ditch Booger, we can run, meet up with Akara, call an Uber, book a flight—”
“No.”
“We have to leave her, Banks!” Sulli shouts tearfully, standing up and letting go of the Jeep for the first time in four hours. “I’m not letting you miss your brother’s wedding because of a stupid fuckingcar.”
I’ve never heard Sulli insult her Jeep before. It means something more to her than I can even understand. “It’s not a stupid fucking car,” I snap back. “Akara said youcriedwhen you were sixteen and your dad gave you theonething he had left of his best friend. You cried snot-nosed tears, and you’ve told me multiple times that youpromisedyour dad that you’d take care of this car—AdamSully’scar. You promised him.”
She’s crying now. Fighting more tears, she rubs a hand under her running nose. “And that’s yourtwinbrother,” she retorts. “The guy you shared a womb with. The guy you went to war with. You’ve spent twenty-nine years of your life with your twin, and you’ve told memultiple timesthat you can’t wait to stand next to him on his wedding day. Your brother. Your twin.”
We’re both breathing even harder.
And I’m falling more and more in love with her.
“One is a memory,” Sulli says in tears. “The other is a person who’s still here.Pleasedon’t miss his wedding to save a Jeep that might be fine on its own.Please.”
I’m used to taking the selfless roads wheredutyis concerned.
I’m bound to Sulli’s needs. Not my own, and she’s trying to throttle me, shake me, to place myself above her. I think about how much it’ll break my brother if I’m not there, and that just about breaks me. I’m placing him above the Jeep.
