Wilder (The Renegades) (29 page)

He’d used me, and it felt so dirty, so wrong, so opposite of how I’d felt when he touched me. Had he been thinking of her, his endgame, while he’d been with me? Kissing me? Inside
me
?

My stomach rolled again, and I heaved into the toilet.

“Leah…” Brandon said from the doorway.

“Just go,” I said.

I wanted nothing to do with any Wilder men. I was done, as empty as my stomach finally was.

“Is there anything you want me to tell him?”

“Take that picture with you. He’ll get the point.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Leah

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.

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.”