Rebel (The Renegades)

by Rebecca Yarros

  Did they even realize what had put her on that Ferris wheel? Did they see the pain she struggled through every day with her sister, her injury, her guilt? Or did they just push her for another stunt, another appearance? If they were her friends, why weren’t they taking care of her like she needed?

  None of your business.

  Damn, I needed to run off this frustration.

  “Let’s get started, shall we? Who wants to tell me what they thought of the assigned reading?”

  Penelope’s hand shot up, and I faked a glance down at my roster before I called on her. “Yes? Penelope?”

  “It’s Penna,” she said, like it was some privilege to call her by the nickname her friends gave her.

  Penna was the girl who put on fake smiles for her friends and those damned cameras that followed her around relentlessly. She was the outer casing that guarded the woman I knew was underneath.

  That one line seemed so innocuous to everyone else in the room, but I knew the truth—she’d just shut the door on Penelope.

  “Penna,” I repeated dutifully.

  Then I tried to feign moderate, appropriate interest as she told me her insightful interpretation of the text. Of course she’d be smart, too. The only flaw the woman had was that she was currently untouchable.

  I got through class, definitely not missing the way Rachel watched me through narrowed eyes. Yes, I’m an idiot. Yes, I took advantage of her—just not in the way you think.

  After class, dinner with Westwick and some of the other teachers, and catching up on grading from my one-hundred-level class, I headed to the gym. I made damn sure it was after Penna’s preferred time and that I was alone.

  Then I ran until I was too tired to regret what happened yesterday.

  If I could figure out which damn part I regretted.

  Chapter Ten

  Penna

  Dutch Harbor, Alaska

  “You’re kidding me,” I said to Pax as I stared at the fleet of brand-new snowmobiles I’d found waiting for us on a small, snow-covered field outside of Dutch Harbor.

  “Whichever one you want,” he said, a shit-eating grin on his face.

  Snowmobiling was the one area where I was better than him, and he knew it. He wasn’t just giving me a machine as a present, but the opportunity to remember why they called me Rebel in the first place. The chance to kick his ass was just an added bonus.

  The longing that ached in my chest was a welcome surprise.

  “What do you say, Penna?” Landon asked, slinging his arm around my shoulder.

  I took in a lungful of cold, crisp Alaskan air and looked from the vast expanse of blue sea to the mountains that rose in front of us on the small island and sighed. I wanted to forget everything for just a few minutes—Brooke, Cruz, hell, even my responsibilities as a Renegade. Maybe it was for the wrong reasons, but who cared as long as I literally put myself back in the saddle in this small way?

  “I want that one,” I said, pointing to a Yamaha in the center. It was lighter than some of its counterparts, and I’d be able to do more with it. I was going to have to start lifting weights again if I ever wanted to get back on my bike and hope to pull tricks.

  “Rebel’s back,” Landon said, squeezing my shoulders before grabbing Rachel to choose her sled.

  She’d been quiet since she walked in on Cruz and me in the excursion office, and I knew I owed her an explanation soon, especially since I needed her to keep quiet. Just because I was hurt and pissed as hell at Cruz didn’t mean I wanted him fired, or his life destroyed for kissing me. She’d brought it up this morning, but I’d quickly shut her down, and while I’d gotten a remarkable amount of side-eye today, she wasn’t pushing.

  I savored the crunch of snow under my feet as I walked to my new snowmobile and swung my leg over the seat, settling in with practiced ease. The engine started with a quick turn of the key, sending vibrations through my body as the motor rumbled beneath me.

  “How does it feel to be back on a snowmobile after your accident, Rebel?” Bobby asked, prompting the camera to roll in closer.

  I forced a smile and pulled my goggles down over my eyes to obscure the truth. “Great! I guess now we’ll find out how healed this leg is!”

  “Nervous at all?” he asked.

  “Nope, just anxious to get back to being me.”

  That was the first true thing I’d said to the cameras since I’d been smashed by that falling light.

  I buckled my helmet, familiarized myself with the setup of the sled, and took off with the other Renegades, leaving the vans behind as we followed a path over the snowy hills. The motor drowned out my thoughts, the feeling peaceful, and I took the time to really take in the sights around me. The volcanic islands lent themselves to dramatic landscapes—snow-covered volcanoes masquerading as mountains that stood out in stark relief against a crystal-blue sky. We’d lucked out and arrived between storms. I wouldn’t want to get stuck here when one of those suckers came in.

  We rode about twenty minutes until we reached a plateau where a series of ramps had been set up.

  “Welcome to your playground, Rebel,” Pax said over the radios in our helmets.

  My stomach clenched, at war between feelings of excitement, anticipation, and soul-crushing dread.

  “You set this all up?” I asked, pulling next to him, where he had Leah on the back of his snowmobile. “It’s spectacular.”

  “Nick took care of it. He said to tell you your favorite ramp is the one on the end over there, and that there’s no pressure or planned stunt. He just wanted you to have some fun for your birthday.”

  “That was the last two days,” I grumbled.

  “Well, he wanted to build it on the boat, but we couldn’t figure out a way to keep the snow from melting in the auditorium.”

  “Smart-ass,” I muttered.

  “Go have fun.”

  I eyed the smallest of the ramps, which was something I could—and did—do when I was barely fifteen. Maybe it was a baby step back toward being me, but it was one I knew I could take.

  Driving a quick loop around the ramp, I gauged the distance and the angle of the ramp before heading back to the start of the run. If I couldn’t manage something that easy, I had zero business being here. I may as well pack my bags and lick my wounds back in L.A. Besides, hadn’t I just BASE jumped off a Ferris wheel?

  I could handle this.

  Gunning the throttle, I sped toward the ramp, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline through my veins. My body soaked up the hormone like fuel, and I hit the ramp, bracing my weight on the rails as I catapulted up.

  Midair, no outside bullshit mattered. It was just me, the snowmobile, and my ability to control the machine. There was no Brooke, no worries over unanswered letters and rejected phone calls. No parents telling me to be patient, not to ask her for the answers I so desperately needed. No Pax, Landon, or Nick expecting me to instantly be who I was before the accident. No Cruz watching me with those hypnotic eyes, telling me with his body that he wanted me while shoving me away with his words.

  I was just me.

  And I was enough.

  Bracing my feet, I let go of the throttle and reached for the sky, my world slowing until moments of infinity lasted in each second. As gravity took hold of my body, I got control of the snowmobile, landing on the other side of the ramp as if I’d just completed the hardest trick in my repertoire.

  But maybe, in digging out the pieces of Rebel that clamored to be let free from the prison I’d stuck her in, I had.

  Throttling down the machine, I drove the snowmobile out of the path of any jumpers, pulling to the side of the ramp.

  “How did that feel?” Pax asked, his arms open.

  “Really good,” I admitted, already craving the blissful quiet that had settled over my brain while in the jump. “In fact, I think I’ll go again.”

  His eyes crinkled, the only sign of a grin when his face was covered almost completely by his helmet. “Get to it, Rebel.”


  With a twist of the throttle, I headed toward the run, turning as another Renegade—I think it was Alex—took the ramp. Nothing fancy, but some good air. His talent had always been big-mountain riding.

  Pax, Landon, me…and Nick. We were the only ones who could handle just about everything, even though we all had our areas of expertise. Then again, we’d been risking our necks on everything that moved since we were old enough to ride tricycles.

  Once Alex was clear, I studied the ramp on the end that Nick had designed for me. The height, the angles, the distance to get up to speed. It was the exact ramp we’d been working with back in Tahoe last winter before…well, everything.

  I wished my cell phone was on, that I could talk to him, ask him what he really meant by building that exact ramp here, but I already knew what he’d say. Are you a Renegade or not?

  Today I was.

  My heart rate sped up, as if my body had already accepted the answer to the question my mind was fighting. I was out of shape. I hadn’t been on a snowmobile all season. Muscle memory didn’t make up for lack of strength.

  But I’d picked the smallest, lightest snowmobile of the bunch, I was experienced, and I’d never backed down from a self-imposed challenge.

  I sped away from the ramp, then turned to face it. My focus narrowed to the track in front of me that had been put down, and I let everything fade away—the cameras, the line of other Renegades watching from the sidelines. Just me and the machine.

  I gunned it, speeding toward the ramp, and there it was again—the sweet oblivion I so desperately needed. I stood, my feet locked on the bars, bracing for the ramp. The machine took the angle perfectly, and we were airborne.

  My muscles screamed as I pulled the snowmobile backward into the flip. My vision turned from blue to the green of pine trees to the stark white snow as gravity took hold, pulling me back to the earth.

  You’re not going to make it.

  The landing came into view, and it wasn’t pretty. It was going to be hard—if I was able to stick it.

  Barely clearing the rotation, the skids slammed into the downward slope of the ramp. My ass crashed into the seat, and my entire body jolted forward, whipping into the handlebar. Shit, there went a rib.

  I nearly lost the machine as it tilted to the left, but I corrected, throwing both of the skids onto the snow, and slid to a stop at the end of the ramp. Barely enough common sense to overrule my joy, I managed to move the machine to the side.

  My chest heaving, I hopped off the snowmobile and threw my hands in the air with a victorious shout. Then I ripped off my helmet and slid my goggles to the top of my head.

  “Did you see that?” I shouted to Landon, who was running in my direction.

  He didn’t stop, and he didn’t hug me. His hands gripped my shoulders, his hazel eyes furious as he backed me toward the line of people behind us. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

  “What?” I shouted back. “Are you seriously giving me shit after I just pulled that off? I haven’t done that in a year, and I just nailed it!”

  “Exactly! You’ve barely been out of a cast for a month. I know you haven’t so much as touched weights—”

  “Are you suggesting that I’m out of shape?” My mouth dropped open. It was one thing to know it myself, and quite another to have Landon in my face over it.

  “Hell yes, I am! Because you are! Don’t expect me to treat you like some little girl, Penna, when we both know you’ve never stood for it in the past. I’ll dish your shit right back to you. You could have killed yourself!”

  “But I didn’t!”

  “You had no business trying to pull off that kind of trick after a whole whopping twenty minutes back on a snowmobile!”

  “Like you had any business snowboarding at twenty-one thousand feet when you weren’t nearly acclimatized for the altitude?”

  “And look how that turned out! For fuck’s sake, Penna!”

  “I pulled it off!”

  “And what if you hadn’t? What if you’d broken your damned neck?”

  “I don’t answer to you, Landon!”

  “That’s bullshit! We answer to one another! We hold one another accountable! You know what happens when we don’t? Nick ends up in a wheelchair.”

  “And Brooke drops a stadium light on me. Yeah, I’m well aware of the consequences, and I’m currently paying that price. Now stop treating me like this!”

  “Like what?”

  “Like a…girl!”

  “News flash. You are a girl!”

  “You damn well know what I mean, Landon Rhodes!”

  “Hey guys,” Pax interrupted from behind us, stepping forward to put a hand on each of our shoulders. “It’s not cool when Mom and Dad fight in front of the kids, okay?”

  I glanced over to where the line of Renegades watched, only to realize they weren’t all Renegades. Some were the snowshoeing expedition, Cruz standing front and center, his eyes fierce and jaw locked.

  Who cares what he thinks? He doesn’t want you, anyway.

  I ripped my eyes away and concentrated on Pax. “Are you going to light into me, too?”

  “Nope,” he replied. “I think Landon did a good enough job for the both of us.”

  Landon and I locked gazes, and he swallowed, something dark and sad washing over his face. “I can’t lose you, too, Penna. None of us can.”

  “I’m fine,” I said, this time softer.

  “Yeah, physically,” Pax added.

  “That was rad, Rebel!” Alex said, passing by for a high five on his snowmobile.

  “Thanks,” I muttered. “See, he thinks it was cool,” I argued after he’d passed.

  “Alex is an idiot on everything except a board,” Landon countered as Pax left to talk to Cruz. We’d never had a school excursion cross our path before.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Landon shook his head. “I think you meant to scare yourself, or prove something. I’m not sure what’s worse.”

  “I’ve never played it safe.”

  “You’ve never played it stupid, either.” He walked off as the camera crew took his place. Great.

  From my peripheral vision, I saw Pax gesturing toward the ramps, probably explaining the setup to Cruz. Dr. Delgado, I reminded myself.

  “That was amazing, Rebel! What inspired you to hit up a backflip after all this time?” Bobby asked, gesturing for me to smile.

  Rebel facade in place, I gave the camera a coy smile and a little shrug. “Not sure. Just wanted to shake off the dust.” I gave them a wink and made my way to Pax.

  But as I approached Cruz, Pax took off toward Leah. It would have been wicked obvious if I’d turned and changed directions, so I stood next to Cruz, watching Alex get ready to take my ramp.

  “You seriously flipped that snowmobile,” he said, his voice tight.

  “Right now I’m the only woman on the planet who can,” I answered without looking at him.

  “And that is why they call you Rebel.”

  I glanced up at him, taking in his crossed arms and narrowed eyes under his black hat. “Among other reasons. I’m not very good at listening to what I’m supposed to do.”

  “Was Landon right? Could you have killed yourself?”

  I shrugged. “Some people would say that’s a possibility with every stunt.”

  “But you wouldn’t?” he snapped.

  “Not to go all Liam Neeson on you, but I have a particular set of skills that mitigates a lot of the risk.” I looked down the track to see Alex take off, his motor straining under the demand of the throttle.

  “But not all of it.”

  “Nope.” There was so much I wanted to say, like how that hadn’t bothered him in Vegas, but I couldn’t—not in a crowd full of students, though we were pretty alone over here. “You probably need to put your snowshoes on and get back to your excursion.”

  “Yeah. We just saw you guys on the hike and decided to check you out.”

  Check me out, indee
d. A corner of my mouth lifted as Alex hit the ramp.

  “Not that way,” Cruz muttered.

  “What the hell?” Alex pulled the snowmobile into a backflip, which to the best of my knowledge, he’d never done before. He was too slow, too low, and— “He’s going to hit,” I whispered a full second before he came down nearly nose-first, his body flying off the snowmobile as it collided with the ground.

  Alex rolled down the rest of the ramp. I took off at a run toward him, the snow slowing me down. My chest exploded in pain, and my hand gripped the side of my rib cage that had been abused when I landed.

  “Throttle’s stuck!” Landon yelled.

  My head swung toward the noise of the whirring motor just in time to see it barreling toward me. Holy shit.

  A bulldozer took me to the ground, rolling me under, then over, and under again as the snowmobile passed within a few feet of me—us. Cruz was on top of me, his forearms locked on either side of my head, covering me in every way he could manage.

  My ribs screamed, my heart pounded, and yet every discomfort was blocked out by the concern in his eyes. “Tell me you’re okay!”

  “I’m fine,” I forced out in a wheeze.

  “Are you sure? You don’t sound fine.” Now those deep brown eyes were downright panicked.

  “I can’t breathe. You’re. Really. Heavy.”

  “Oh shit. I’m sorry.” He was off me immediately, standing quickly and pulling me up.

  My arm wrapped around my injured ribs, my mind forcing the pain into a neat little box. As soon as the adrenaline faded, it was going to hurt like a bitch. The snowmobile had crashed into a snow bank and died. With that problem gone, I looked to the ramp where Alex came to a wavering stand.

  “That was awesome!” he yelled, obviously not injured.

  “And you think I was stupid?” I called out to Pax as he headed toward Alex.

  He waved a finger at me but closed his mouth before he said something as equally idiotic as Alex’s failed stunt.

  “My first impression of you was right,” Cruz said, pulling down his sunglasses so I couldn’t see his eyes.

  “And what was that?”

  “That you’re insane. You’re all insane.”