Wilder (The Renegades Book 1)
Wilder: Chapter 28

Madagascar

“Hey, this is Rachel. If I’m not answering it’s because I didn’t hear the phone, or maybe I just don’t feel like talking. Leave a message, and I’ll eventually return it.”

I hung up and cursed.

Why couldn’t this be like the movies, where the other character answered the damn phone so you could have the emotional moment? Where she told me that everything I’d learned was wrong, that she’d never been with Paxton, that there was some evil twin out there with an identical tattoo. Where everything he’d done for me hadn’t been only to get closer to my best friend. Where I was actually the main character and not relegated to secondary bullshit.

Real life sucked.

I looked around my room, my unpacked bags thrown haphazardly into the tiny space. I’d only been in Paxton’s room for a couple of weeks, but it was long enough for this space to feel unfamiliar, even though it was technically mine. I wasn’t sure even my heart was technically mine at the moment.

My gaze drifted to the clock.

Twenty minutes until the Athena was set to sail. The others waited on the pier for Paxton to make it back, but I couldn’t leave my room, couldn’t see a space beyond the door, or a time beyond the next breath, the next heartbeat.

Nausea twisted my stomach, but at least it kept me physically grounded to reality. Besides, the pain that registered in my brain was nothing compared to the agony my soul demanded be felt. Everything hurt, ached both with the need to see Paxton and the overwhelming urge to smack the shit out of him for what he’d done—what he’d kept from me. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ FindNʘᴠᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

God, had he thought about her when he was touching me? My chest constricted, my throat closing around tears I refused to shed.

I curled up on my bed, hugging my knees to my chest like it would help me hold myself together, and counted through my breaths, focusing on the numbers, forcing air through my lungs.

I’d come so far only to go right back to where I’d been two years ago, fighting to make it through the next minute.

Grief had taken me when Brian died, but this heartbreak felt so much sharper, like every nerve in my body had been sliced clean through and was screaming. After all, Brian had never chosen to leave me. Paxton had made the choice all along.

And if I could finally be honest, the way I’d loved Brian at eighteen was nothing compared to the way my entire soul belonged to Pax.

Or at least it did.

As the horns blew and we pushed off for sail, there was a knock at my door. I clutched my pillow to my chest and walked barefoot to the front of the cabin. “Who is it?” I asked.

“Leah, please.” Paxton’s voice came through the door, and I leaned back against the wall of the hallway, fighting every instinct to open the door. How could I even look at him, knowing what I did? Still loving him like the complete and utter moron I was?

“Go away,” I said.

“No. And if you don’t let me in to explain myself, I will sit out here all night. I will play obnoxious eighties hair ballads and scream your name until the captain is on us both.”

“I don’t care,” I lied. That would be quite possibly the most embarrassing thing he could do, not to mention that he’d wind up on-camera, my heartbreak fodder for a worldwide audience.

“You’re lying.”

Fuck.

I reached out and unlocked the door, turning the handle enough for him to push it open. Then I sucked in a breath and tried to find the willpower that had kept me clinging to a canyon wall two years ago, the strength I’d had to finally let go and save my own life a few weeks ago.

I walked into my living room, knowing that he’d follow. Then I pulled out the bottle of vodka Penna left in our freezer and downed a shot, hoping it was cold enough and high enough proof to numb the bleeding edges of my soul.

Then I turned around, my breath sucking in at the battered lines of Paxton’s face. “Are you okay?” I asked, hating how beautiful he was, even with the purple shading of his cheekbone and the cuts on his face.

He touched the swollen, discolored cheek. “Yeah. Doc already checked me out. Nothing is broken, just bruised and a little cut up.”

“Is it true? Rachel? All of it?” I spit out with my usual verbal grace.

He ran his tongue over his abused lip and looked away. “Yeah.”

I tried to ignore the way the tiny shred of hope inside me screamed out in agony as it died. “Everything you did…my scholarship, my tutoring assignment, this suite down the hall from yours…was that just to get Rachel on board?”

“Yes,” he whispered, a tortured look in his eyes that had no right to be there.

“Rachel was your endgame,” I said, remembering the words on the picture.

“At one time, yes, but not anymore. I promise,” he said, reaching for me.

I sidestepped him, putting the couch between us. “Explain,” I ordered, my voice as flat as my spirit.

“Everything I did at the start was to get Rachel here, yes. Everything you listed, and more.”

“Asshole.” What more could there possibly be?

“You always knew I was,” he countered before ripping his hands through his hair. “God, this is not going how I had planned.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Please, do tell me what you had planned.” Was it breaking my heart? Playing with me until you could have her?

“Yes, I used you to get to Rachel, but it wasn’t for me, I swear.”

I laughed, the sound evil to my own ears. “Really.”

“Really.”

My nails bit into my palms at the use of what I had begun to think was our word. How junior-high immature was I? How blind had I been? “You’re just kissing her in that picture, that’s all.”

“First, I have no clue how that picture got here. I haven’t seen it since I ripped Landon’s face out of it two years ago and shoved it in a box. Whoever put it there obviously knows where I keep private shit at my house, and apparently how to get into my fire box here.”

“Landon?” What the hell?

“Yeah. Landon. He was the one who fell for my girlfriend, who was sleeping with her while I was trying to be respectful and keep it in my pants.”

“Landon?” I repeated, trying to let it sink in. “I thought it was Nick.”

“Nick? He would never do that. He loved Brooke so much I figured they’d have three kids by now. It was Landon. I wrote the endgame comment on the picture before I showed it to him, because he was on the side, looking like a love-struck puppy. That’s when the pieces started to click and I figured it out. No guy looks at his best friend’s girl like that. That’s when he came clean and told me they’d been together since the spring. Then he started spouting the ‘we never meant to hurt you’ and ‘we didn’t want to break up the team, but we’re in love’ crap.” His laugh came out self-deprecating and sarcastic. “How in love are you if you’re still making out with your boyfriend and getting a side piece? If that’s love, I want no part of it.”

“Okay,” I said, mostly to fill the space, not knowing what the hell to say to that kind of comment. He wanted no part of my love? Or any love? “And the endgame comment?”

“I told him to remember our endgame, which had always been the Renegades, to remember what we were working so hard for—what he was screwing up. And then I made one of the worst decisions in my life, and I gave him an ultimatum. It was her or us.”

“You didn’t fight for her?” I asked. Was he going to fight for me? Did I even want him to?

“I didn’t love her. I thought I did at the time, but now I know better. At first, he chose her. He left the Renegades, and I ripped him out of the picture and shoved it into a box under my bed to remind me that this was what love does, it destroys everything around you, makes you give up the people you care about most because of some temporary, hormonal surge that inevitably wanes with time. At least…that’s what I thought then. Watching them leave—the betrayal I felt—that was all from Landon. Sure, Rachel hurt me, but Landon wrecked me, destroyed everything I depended on.”

“You wanted him to prove his loyalty, and he failed,” I guessed, remembering how he’d told me that was the one quality he had to have in a friend.

Paxton nodded. “He couldn’t live without the team, and a month later begged me to reconsider, but I was too pissed and too immature to see the bigger picture. So my ego won, and he lost the only woman he’s ever loved. It’s something that I’ve paid for since that day, watching him fuck every girl we come in contact with and connect with no one, watching that light in him die. I did that.”

“He did that,” I countered. “He could have chosen Rachel.” The same way you could choose me. God, even when I was this utterly destroyed, I still looked for his excuse.

“I’m trying to give him that choice now. That’s what all of this was about—getting her on board so he’d have a chance with her. Yes, I used you, and that is unforgiveable, but I had the best intentions.”

“Well, you know what they say. The road to hell is paved with good intentions. So you did it for Rachel, and for Landon, you say. But you still lied to me every day, every moment since I met you. Is that why you got so close? To make sure I’d stay when she didn’t show up? To keep me happy? Did you ever honestly care about me, because I feel like some pawn in this huge chess game, and you’re just moving the pieces around like none of us are real people with real feelings.”

“Of course I care about you!” His brow puckered. “It’s complicated.”

“Yeah, well, it’s pretty fucking clear from where I stand. Was sleeping with me part of it? Getting me so wrapped up in you that Rachel would have to agree to stay when she got here? When she realized that you’d caged her on a ship with the one guy who broke her heart so badly that she can’t speak his name?” My mind raced. “I remember her saying there was someone who destroyed her, who dropped her and never looked back, and I can tell you that Rachel isn’t a forgiving person. There’s no way she would have agreed if she’d known he was here…if she’d known you were here.”

“I know.”

“Damn it, Paxton!” I cried, my eyes blurring for the first time. “You didn’t just use me, you manipulated me to get to Rachel. She’s my best friend!”

“And he’s mine!” he countered. He took a stuttered breath. “The first moment I saw you, I thought you were the most refreshingly beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Then I found out you were…well, you, and I knew I couldn’t touch you, that I had to put that instant connection somewhere far away before we ended up here. Yes, at first I wanted you to understand us, like us, want to help us so that you wouldn’t run when Rachel couldn’t make it, and I prayed you’d be the one who would convince her to stay when she showed up. But I never expected you. You had me from the first moment you hooked onto that zip-line with me. Hell, maybe even before that.”

“It doesn’t matter.” I shook my head. “None of it matters now. How am I supposed to believe anything you say? It was all a lie.”

“No,” he said, coming around the couch. “Not my feelings for you. Not what happens the moment I look into your eyes, or I touch you. I swear to God that none of that is a lie. All of it is real—way too real.”

“What am I supposed to do with that?” I asked, backing away when he stepped closer. “Are you seriously pulling the it-started-as-a-game-but-then-I-fell-for-you line?”

“It was never a game, I swear. Yes, I wanted to keep you happy, at first because I needed Rachel to get here, and then because I love to see you smile. I kept you close because I needed you to feel invested in me, my grades, the Renegades, all of it—and then because I couldn’t bear to not be around you. I don’t know what you’re supposed to do. I can only tell you what I hope you’ll do. I hope you’ll forgive me. I hope you’ll look at me and see that the only truth that matters is that what we are is extraordinary and epic, and worth the shit we’re going through. That someone planted that picture so you’d see it, so you’d walk away from me. That this is another way to sabotage us. Please see it, Leah.”

“Why would I?” I threw in his face.

“Because you love me!” he shouted back.

God, I did. I loved him so much that I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that the picture meant nothing, or that someone had planted it. Wanted to believe that it was out of love for his friend that he did this to me, love between Landon and Rachel. But it wasn’t enough. Not when he’d used me, lied to me, manipulated me, and even when things had “gotten real,” had never clued me in. “It’s not enough,” I replied. Not when he still needed me to keep Rachel from leaving the minute she got here. Not when he knew with one phone call I could destroy his plans. He still needed me. That’s why he was doing this.

His eyes went wild for a moment before he seemed to gather himself. “Because I’m in love with you.”

Everything stilled, as if the second hand agreed not to move, or all thousand people on the Athena stopped breathing. He’d finally said it, but now I couldn’t trust him, couldn’t believe what he was saying. “No,” I replied. “Love doesn’t lie, manipulate, or use people to get what it wants. If you loved me, you would have told me about Rachel. If not at the start, then at least in Istanbul, or before I gave myself to you in Mykonos. Love means that you put someone else above yourself, above what you want, and you never did that. Rachel was your endgame—for Landon or not—and I was never above that consideration. You never once put my feelings, my trust, my love, above your need to get Rachel on board. Love doesn’t do that.”

God, I’d given him everything. Not just my body but my past, my soul, everything I kept locked so deep that even I forgot it was there. And he’d only been after Rachel.

“Maybe your love doesn’t, because it’s perfect. You are basically perfect, Leah. But my love is messy, imperfect, makes mistakes, and is overwhelmingly selfish, because I need you. I need you more than air in my lungs or even the Renegades. So yes, I’m in love with you, and maybe you don’t like that because you can’t control it, but it’s the truth. You can choose not to forgive me for this—I’d understand—but you can’t stop me from loving you.”

I wavered, and not a slight sway, an earthquake kind of waver. “You haven’t even apologized. When you’re sorry, you’re supposed to apologize.”

He grimaced. “I can’t apologize for this because I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry about how I got you here, or for putting you in this suite. I’m not sorry about getting you to tutor me, or even putting you on the zip-line. I can’t regret a single thing that brought us here, brought me to you.”

As he walked toward me, I stopped retreating until he stood a breath away, his hands on my face. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t have regrets. I’m sorry for every time you were hurt on my watch. I’m sorry for every time you doubted yourself, every time I tried to hold back from you, because we could have had so much more time. I’m sorry for making fun of your travel wallet when it saved my ass. I’m sorry that I didn’t find you when we lived miles apart, before either of us became so jaded that neither of us believed love like this was possible. But mostly I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I loved you from the moment I realized it, the moment my chest thought it might burst from it. The moment I thought I almost lost you on the ramp, or the way you called me out on my bullshit in Istanbul. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you in Mykonos when I found that missing piece of my soul inside you. But mostly, I’m sorry I didn’t say it back when you were brave enough to tell me that you loved me, because I wasn’t. Because I knew that the minute I let myself feel this”—he pulled my hand over his heart—“and you realized what I’d done, that you’d leave, and I’d be destroyed. All I have are shitty examples of how love turns out. Please forgive me. Show me there’s another outcome.”

“Paxton,” I whispered, unable to say anything else. Maybe it was enough. Maybe the circumstances that brought us together meant nothing in the long haul, and that what counted was the way we loved each other now. Maybe Rachel didn’t matter, the lies could be forgiven, and it was…possible. But I’d never know if he truly wanted me, or if he saw me as the lynchpin to Landon’s happiness.

A knock sounded at my door.

“Don’t answer it,” Paxton begged. “Whoever it is can wait until we get this settled.”

But I needed the breather, the space to think. I broke our quasi embrace and walked down the hall, Paxton on my heels, like he was scared I’d walk out before we finished.

The knob twisted in my hand, and I opened the door.

I gawked.

“Well, that’s some hello, nice to see you,” Rachel said before flinging her arms around my neck and pulling me into her familiar hug. “Thank God I found you. I saw this video on Instagram last week, and I knew I had to get here. Do you have any idea how many calls I had to make to get on the ship a week early? Or how many flights, for that matter? They only let me do it because second term starts at the next port and I told them I needed the same adjustment time the other students had gotten. I have to talk to you.”

She pulled back, cupping my face in her hands, concern lancing through her almond-shaped brown eyes as she saw tears in mine. “I’m too late, aren’t I?”

“I don’t…I don’t know,” I answered, unable to string anything else together. Instead, I stepped back enough to open the door full width. She was beautiful, average height, but always toned, her body the kind of perfection that Paxton was surrounded by daily. Her black hair had new purple streaks in it, just the tip of the iceberg when it came to the no-holds-barred way she expressed herself. She was my polar opposite in so many ways, which was why we were such great friends, why I could see why both Landon and Paxton had wanted her. I’d always admired her, but never felt inferior to my best friend, and this sucked.

“It’s okay,” she promised, but then her mouth dropped as she looked behind me.

I sidestepped and braced my back against the wall. Then I watched every nuance of Paxton’s face change from shock to cringe-worthy acceptance. “Rachel.”

“Wilder,” she said, swallowing. She looked between us. “Oh…oh God no. No, Leah, no. He’ll eat you alive. I’d hoped the video was wrong. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Her glare whipped toward Paxton. “You made her sign an NDA, you cock-sucking asshole.”

A wry grin twisted his lips. “As I recall it wasn’t my co—”

“Paxton!” I snapped, throwing my hand over his mouth. The asshole kissed the palm and gently pulled my hand away, refusing to let go when I yanked.

Rachel’s eyes hit the floor before she composed herself. “Let me know when you’d like your biggest mistakes thrown in your face, Wilder. I’m happy to oblige.”

“I’m kind of living that moment right now, but thanks for the offer. It’s always good of you to fuck up my life at opportune moments, but hey, at least the X Games don’t start next week.”

Rachel flinched. Oh God, he’d found out right before the X Games? And he’d still medaled. I couldn’t decide if I was impressed that he’d kicked ass even after having his heart broken, or if he had a heart to break. You know that’s not true.

I silenced my conscience. “This is getting us nowhere. Rachel, I’m so sorry but I’m a little off. I just found out about you two.” I shook my head. “You three. Whatever. Of course I’m glad to see you. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier to see anyone.” Then I looked up at Paxton. “I need you to leave.”

“Yes, please leave. I think you’ve done enough damage,” Rachel snapped.

“Leah,” he begged, his blues going all soft and buttery, ignoring Rachel.

“No. You’ve had months to come to terms with what you’ve done, what you set me up for—us up for. I’ve had all of four hours. You owe me time. That’s the least you can give me.”

He searched my face, no doubt looking for a weakness. “Okay,” he finally said. “But I love you. I’m not giving you up.”

Rachel snorted. “What do you know about love, Wilder?”

“What you taught me,” he fired back before recoiling and sucking in a deep breath. “Why do you even think you’re here?”

“What? Studying abroad?” Realization dawned, her eyes growing huge and her hand covering her mouth. “You didn’t.”

“I did. Because you two deserve the chance you never got. He doesn’t know you’re here—I’m not suicidal—so it’s up to you when you tell him. If you tell him.” He looked at me, his heart in his eyes. “Firecracker?”

“Go study,” I whispered. “We have finals the day after tomorrow, and you tied our fates, remember?”

“Can you forgive me?”

“I don’t know, but if you press me for that answer right now, it’ll be no. I need some time.”

He nodded. “Okay. I can give you that. But I need you to believe that I love you. If you trust nothing else, trust that.”

“This guy I know told me once that anyone can claim they can do something. It’s what you show the world that matters, right?” I said.

“Yeah. Something like that.” He gave in. “I’ll see you in class.” As he passed Rachel, who looked ready to fly at him with claws bared, he said, “I know you’re pissed. But we’re at sea for the next five days, so you can’t exactly get off the boat anyway. Take your time and think. Don’t run. I just ask that you think of everything Leah has done for you, and for once, think of someone else, too…and if you choose to leave, please don’t take her with you. Don’t take her chance the way I stupidly took yours.”

Paxton dodged the luggage cart that arrived at the same moment, Hugo nearly jumping out of his way. As Hugo brought the cart in, Rachel pulled me into the first open bedroom—it happened to be mine.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice nearly a squeak. “I leave you alone for three months and you fall into my old life. I’m cruising Instagram last week and a Renegade video popped up that showed you, and I just about peed myself. Tell me he didn’t get to you.”

I burst into tears. “I fell for him, and all he wanted was to get to you. Oh God, Rach. I’m so fucking stupid.”

“No,” she soothed with a heavy sigh, pulling my head to her shoulder. “You have a heart bigger than this ocean, Leah. It’s not stupidity, it’s love.”

“I hate love,” I said, hiccupping.

“Yeah. It sucks, and I know more than I should about loving a Renegade,” she agreed. “Well, since I’m too damn late to save you from yourself, what do you want to do?”

“I don’t know. Is that okay? I know he’s your ex, and this must be the weirdest thing ever, but you’re my best friend.”

“Don’t do that. I don’t factor into this, not with Wilder. He’s an ass, but he’s your ass. It’s between the two of you.”

“Why can’t it be easy?” I asked.

“It never is. But I can tell you one thing. There was a reason I left him. Why I…cheated with Landon.” Her breath caught on Landon’s name, something that never happened when she talked about guys.

“What was it?” I asked, genuinely needing to know what would make someone walk away from someone as all-consuming as Paxton.

She forced a smile. “Because he never looked at me the way he did you right now.”

I shook my head. “How?”

“Like you were air and he was on the verge of suffocating. Like you were literally the only thing that could save his life or give it meaning.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I found that with someone else, and Wilder took it away. I can’t tell you what to do, but you deserve to know the facts.”

I loved him. I could never deny that, and maybe—just maybe—he loved me, too. But could I ever know if he really did? Or would I always wonder if he just wanted to keep Rachel close?

I wasn’t sure I’d ever know—or if I could love under those terms.

“What about you? You came all this way knowing that Landon was here?”

She gave me a tight, forced smile. “You are my best friend. You held me together when it felt like everything else was ripping me in ten thousand directions. Landon… He took enough from me; I’m not letting him take this trip, too. And this is about you. I would do anything for you. If you want to go, we’ll go. If you want to stay, we’ll stay.”

She pulled me into a hug, and I let myself sink into the familiarity of my best friend. But part of me died, too. Paxton’s plan had worked. Whether or not Rachel stayed, and Landon got his chance, was all up to me…and everything revolved around my feelings for Pax.

As far as I would go to secure Rachel’s happiness, how was I ever going to know if being with me was a price Paxton would pay for Landon’s?

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