Wilder (The Renegades Book 1)

Istanbul

“To your right you can see the area in which the Holy Roman Emperors were crowned when the Hagia Sophia was Christian.” Dr. Williams pointed to the Arabic symbols hung high above the floor. “As you can see, this served as a mosque before it was declared a museum.”

“Everything changes, doesn’t it?” Paxton said next to me as we walked around the massive structure.

“You could…you know, talk to Landon,” I suggested.

“No point,” he said.

“Okay.” I exhaled slowly, counting to ten. We’d gone rounds for the last few days about what he was going to do, which was a big fat nothing.

“I told you, Landon didn’t do this. There’s zero chance. It had to have been an accident during assembly, or if someone opened it up to check it…or anything but Landon.”

“Right,” I said. Keep quiet. But of course I couldn’t. “Because that’s what happened to your chest protector, too, right?”

He shot me a go-to-hell look, which I shot right back. “Let’s just look at some history, okay?”

He’d been this sour the whole damn time. On board, in class, during study sessions, all week. The worst? He hadn’t so much as kissed me again. The minute I suggested that he look into Landon, he shut me out like I was a direct threat to his best friend.

For God’s sake, I suggested he talk to him, not practice waterboarding.

“How’s that going for you?” Hugo asked as Paxton walked ahead of me.

“He’s an ass.”

“He sure likes you, though,” he answered, stopping to snap a picture on our way out.

“What makes you say that?” The treatment I’d gotten the last few days definitely didn’t support that theory.

“We may have run out of that French roast you like while we were at sea.”

“No!” I gasped. “My lifeblood!”

He laughed. “Yeah, well, Paxton knew and made sure that you got all of his.” He watched for my reaction.

“Really?” I glanced forward to where Paxton walked, his thumbs tucked into the pockets of his jeans. Jeans that hung on nice hips and were accented with an incredible ass. Ugh.

“Really. I’m just saying that he’s been a jerk since he got hurt, but if there’s something there, give it a shot.” He shrugged.

“Yes, wise one.” I bowed my head.

“Hey, admit it, you’re glad you kept the suite,” he said as we boarded the bus.

I couldn’t believe there had been a time when I almost said no to everything…to Paxton. “You’re right. I’m glad.”

“Firecracker?” Paxton asked as I approached where he sat. He pointed to the empty seat next to him and I took it after Hugo shot me a knowing look.

“Feel like talking now?” I asked.

“No.”

I leaned out of my seat to move. I might be a little crazy over the guy, but I wasn’t a martyr. He stopped me, his fingers gentle on my wrist as he pulled.

“I just want to be near you, if that’s okay.”

I sat down. How the hell could I turn that down? “Okay,” I said, and settled in for a silent trip to the market. I looked past Paxton to where the Blue Mosque waited in quiet repose. The inside had stolen my breath, reminded me how much work it was to build something worth standing, worth marveling at.

“What are you thinking?” he asked as the bus rolled into Istanbul traffic.

“How beautiful things last when they’re built well and loved.”

He nodded but didn’t say anything.

The drive over had me holding my breath more than once. I’d seen aggressive drivers, but even that trip to New York City couldn’t hold a candle to this insanity.

The entire ride, I wanted to touch him, to put my hand on his and tell him that we’d figure out what was going on, or I’d let him figure it out on his own if he needed to. His eyes tracked everything as we drove by, his foot tapping. I’d seen that look before as he was planning a trick. I knew that he was thinking, but I didn’t quite expect it to hurt so much to be shut out.

But what the hell did I expect? We’d been together all of what, two weeks? Were we together? He said so, but I never did. What was worse than craving Paxton from an unattainable distance? Being in relationship gray area with him.

Maybe it was better to have a clean break now before I dug myself any deeper, though. Right? Cutting losses and all.

The bus stopped on the side of the street, and Dr. Williams gave us the lecture about staying together, and safety, and how easy it was to get lost. I tried to pay attention, but all my focus was on the tiny crack in my heart that was growing by the minute.

Better to feel that now than to wait around for him to pulverize me. And besides, you couldn’t miss what you never had.

Except those tiny slivers of time where he’d been mine—those shone brighter than the rest of, well…everything.

We filed out of the bus and moved as a herd through the pedestrian-only street, passing under a stone arch that read Grand Bazaar.

As we entered the covered market, I moved my sunglasses to the top of my head. It was stunning, a kaleidoscope of colors, sounds, and the scent of fruit and spices. The stone arches stretched above us for what seemed to be miles. The whole atmosphere was alive, raucous, and slightly overwhelming.

“Okay, take note, you have one hour,” Dr. Williams said over the noise. “Do not be late. Ship pulls out at five p.m. sharp, and I’d like to be on it.” He waved us free.

“Want to shop with us?” Hugo asked, pointing to his friends.

My gaze darted to where Paxton browsed in the booth next to us, picking up a ceramic crocodile. “I’d better stick with Paxton.”

“You take those tutor duties seriously.” He winked.

“Always,” I answered with a flat smile.

“How about I bring up some ice cream for you and Penna later?” he offered.

“Only if you binge with us.”

“Deal.” He looked in Paxton’s direction. “Remember the coffee.” Then he met up with his group of friends, and they took off in the opposite direction.

I kept Paxton in my peripheral vision while I looked at the intricate jewelry boxes in the booth. The blue one was gorgeous, but way outside my price range, so I set it down.

“How much do they want for it?” Paxton asked, picking it up.

“Too much,” I answered.

“So? Get it. I haven’t seen you buy yourself a single thing on this trip besides sunscreen.” He opened and shut the lid.

“I need to be careful with my money. I budgeted everything before I came, and I can buy myself one thing for the whole trip.” I turned away from him, running my fingers over the other boxes. They were all so detailed.

There was a vendor with teapots across the walkway. “I’ll be right over there,” I said as Paxton picked up something else within a glass case.

The teapots were as ornate as the boxes, the lines graceful yet functional. I flipped one over and nearly swallowed my tongue at the price.

“I like that, too,” Paxton said, leaning over my shoulder.

“Rachel and I have a thing for teapots,” I answered.

“Rachel?” he asked.

“My roommate who isn’t here yet.” I turned the pot over again. “She’s supposed to meet up with us at second trimester.”

“Right.” Paxton nodded. “I’m glad to hear she’s still coming.”

“Yeah, she’s chomping at the bit.”

“So the teapots?” he said, taking it from me to check it out.

“She loves that quote by Eleanor Roosevelt, the one that says women are like tea bags, because you never know how strong we are until we’re in hot water. We both had rough freshman years, and it kind of became our thing.”

Rachel would love that teapot. It could be my Paxton pot. The time I got in way over my head and let yet another reckless asshole break my heart. At least this one won’t break your body.

I took it out of Paxton’s hands and headed to the owner of the booth. This was definitely my Paxton pot. It could sit next to Rachel’s “I failed my chem final” pot and right above my “doc said one more surgery” pot.

As I took my money out of my wallet, Paxton rolled his eyes. “Put your fanny pack away,” he said with a smile.

It was the closest to a joke he’d made since we left Rome.

“I can pay for it,” I argued. There was zero chance I was taking anything else from him. Not when he already had way too much of me.

We locked eyes, a battle raging along the tension that connected us. “Fine,” he acquiesced. “But you’re not paying full price.”

“It’s on the sticker, Pax,” I said as we arrived to the booth.

“Haggling is half the fun,” he said. “Besides, they expect you to.”

I rolled my eyes and let him get to it. By the time it was over, we’d lost a ton of time, but he’d gotten my teapot more than half off.

“Thank you,” I said, tucking it into my small backpack.

“No problem,” he answered.

We walked side by side along the main walkways, then turned down a few alleys with smaller booths, tangling ourselves in the web of the market. With every step, the tension between us became something palpable, almost as if I could reach out and pluck it like a guitar string.

What if this was how it would be from now on?

Maybe he was done with me.

That thought hurt more than it should have.

“It feels good to get out,” he said, breaking our awkward silence.

“I bet,” I answered.

“It sucks that we blew the opportunity for the stunt, but I guess resting up before we head for more ramp practice is a safer bet.”

I paused in the middle of the walkway, and Paxton turned around.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re getting on another ramp?”

He nodded. “Of course.”

“What the hell do you mean, of course? Like it’s a given? Like there’s not even the possibility that you might take a look at what almost happened to you and rethink that choice?”

“Leah, nothing happened.” He took a step toward me, and I moved backward.

“Really? Because I was there. I saw you come down. I saw the bike hit, and you hit, and then the bike come down on you.”

“I take risks every single day of my life. It’s what I do. It’s who I am. It’s how I made my name.”

“Even if it kills you?”

He shook his head. “It hasn’t.”

“Yet! You’re not even healed and you’re ready to jump back on a bike and flip it backward.”

“Forward,” he corrected. “We were going backward in Rome, but I’ll actually be working on flipping it forward. Three times, which has never been done. We just didn’t have the right kicker in Rome.”

My mouth hung open for a second until I snapped it shut. “You nearly got yourself killed going backward, which—forgive my physics—should be easier than forward, and now you’re going to take it up a notch?”

“If you think that’s almost killing myself, then we should probably talk about your definition of death.”

That carefully constructed wall I kept lost a brick.

“I am more acquainted with that concept than you have ever been!” I yelled.

Okay, maybe it lost an entire row of bricks.

“What? Because our brakes didn’t work on the zip-line? That was a baby accident compared to what I’ve seen—what I’ve done.”

My fingernails dug into my palms. “Like what happened in Rome? You can’t tell me nothing happened when you’re sitting on two tampered brake assemblies and a cracked chest plate. You’re not that stupid.”

His eyes narrowed. “Is that what you call trusting your friends? Stupid?”

“Is that seriously how you define trust?”

“Yes.” He walked forward, and I retreated until I felt a stone wall at my back. “That’s when you hand someone your faith.”

“Blindly?”

His eyes narrowed. “I’ve known some of them my entire life. I would take a bullet for any of them.”

“Would they take one for you?”

“Yes,” he answered instantly.

“How the hell can you be so sure when you’re sitting on evidence like that? You’d hop back up there and wait for someone to do something that kills you?”

“I don’t expect you to understand.” His eyes went glacial, which only fueled the anger controlling me.

“Why? Because I don’t want to hurl my body through space? Because I think you don’t have to do extraordinary things to be extraordinary? I can’t understand because I’d rather curl up with Netflix than drive as fast as I can just to see if I can beat the score of the guy next to me?”

“What? I don’t race.” He shook his head. “You wouldn’t understand because you live in a bubble of your own making. You can see the amazing things happening around you, but you’d rather watch from the inside because you think it’s safer.”

“It is safer!” I shouted. Too close. He’s too close.

“There’s a difference between being alive and living. I live. Every day. I challenge everything, even the law of gravity.”

“Because you like people screaming your name,” I hurled.

“You nailed it. It’s all about the fame, isn’t it?” he said, his voice dripping sarcasm. “It’s about landing the trick, about doing something that’s never been done before. About breaking every limit set, even the ones of my own body, because I make the rules. I decide what can and cannot be done. And it’s honestly a hell of a lot of fun.”

“Fun.”

He leaned in closer. “Fun. You know, what happens when you let go just a little, step outside your bubble, maybe put on a pair of shorts.”

I flinched. “You’re an asshole.”

He smirked. “I’ve been called worse.”

“Given the trail of women you leave in your wake, I don’t doubt that.”

“Every woman I fuck knows what she’s getting into.”

I tried to swallow past the giant ball of pain that lodged in my throat. “And you wonder why it’s hard to trust you.”

His shoulders dropped, and he backed up a step. “So that’s where we’re at?”

“Is there a we?” I asked, my voice losing almost all of its fight.

“I thought so. But you see, there’s the difference between us. I saw you and I wanted you. I talked to you and I liked you. I felt this connection between us and I jumped. You’re the one on the fucking fence, as usual.”

I would have snapped back, but damn it…he was right.

“Everything about you scares the shit out of me,” I said honestly.

His hand cupped my face. “When are you going to understand that’s where life begins? Right at the edge of that fear.”

I looked away, unable to hold his gaze for one more second before I crumbled. I flipped my wrist and gasped. “Oh my God. Paxton, we were supposed to meet up with the class ten minutes ago.”

He straightened. “They won’t leave us. Let’s go.”

We backtracked our steps through the alleys, but they all looked the same. The arches looked the same, the roofline, too. When we came to the crowded main walkway, he grasped my hand. “Stay with me.”

“Yes,” I answered.

His smile did little to conquer the fear racing down my spine, but he was with me…what could happen?

“There’s the door,” he said, and we raced toward the arched exit. Thank God.

I blinked and pulled my sunglasses down as sunlight assaulted my eyes. “Wait,” I said, spinning. “This isn’t the way we came in.”

“But that’s the exit,” he said.

I looked at the door. “It’s door four. We came in door nine.”

He swore under his breath. “The whole layout is like a wagon wheel. We just need to get to door nine,” he said, and pulled me back into the market. We ran the outside path of the market, counting the numbers of the doors as we passed them.

“Nine!” I said, but my heart sank and then pounded. “They left us.”

He looked at his watch. “We’re a half hour late. Damn it. What I wouldn’t give for my fucking cell phone right about now.”

I looked at my watch. “Oh God. Pax, it’s four thirty.”

He nodded like he’d made a decision. “Okay, we need to find a cab and get to the port.”

My hand clasped tightly in his, we made our way through the crowded path until we reached the street. Paxton tried for five minutes to hail a cab and finally stepped into traffic.

A cab stopped right before hitting him.

I was too scared of missing the ship to chastise him, just got in the backseat. Paxton slid in next to me and, over the course of another five minutes, managed to convey our destination to the cabbie. We jolted into traffic, and I bolted forward when the driver hit the brakes.

Paxton leaned over me and fastened a seat belt that looked like it had been installed during the disco era. We hit gridlock traffic, and I broke into a sweat.

“They’re going to leave us,” I said as I looked at my watch.

4:55.

“They’d better not,” he muttered. Then he glanced over at me and sighed, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pressing a kiss to my temple. “I’ll take care of you.”

I scoffed. “Who is going to take care of you?”

He laughed. “There’s my Firecracker.”

We were stopped on the bridge when I looked past him and lost all hope.

“Hey, Pax?”

“Yeah?”

“They left us.”

“How are you sure?” he asked into my hair.

I pointed to the window. “Because that’s the ship.”

Paxton’s attention snapped to the gorgeous white cruise ship with Athena painted across the bow that was currently sailing out of Istanbul.

“Well, fuck.”