Rebel (The Renegades)

by Rebecca Yarros

  A hand reached out from the crowd, grabbing my shoulder, jarring me from my thoughts. Landon gripped the guy’s wrist and shook his head at him as he pushed him back.

  “Sorry, you looked distracted,” he apologized.

  “It’s okay. I don’t mind you treating me like a girl every once in a while,” I said with a tight smile.

  I was dressed every bit the part of Rebel today, my hair down and curled, my makeup flawless, my outfit sporty chic. Our plan required that I play my part to a T, and I was going to more than deliver.

  We made our way into the building and through the small hallway to the closed room where our press conference would be held. Flashes went off the moment we walked in, and while Leah and Rachel headed to the seats Little John had saved for them, I took my spot on the dais between Pax and Landon.

  Our names were called from every corner of the room, and Little John stepped up to run the conference, calling one reporter at a time. The questions were innocuous at first. How did we like Havana? What inspired us to host the first extreme sports event of this magnitude here?

  “Rebel, can you tell us how you’re feeling after your accident in Dubai?”

  I gave him a billion megawatt smile. “I’m all recovered and ready to rock tomorrow. In fact, I have something new to show you guys that I promise you won’t see anywhere else.”

  “And what about Nitro?” another asked, and I tensed. “Rumors are that he’s here, but we don’t see him with you.”

  “Nitro is with us, and he chose to keep his trip private. We’d really appreciate it if you guys would, too,” I said before Pax flew off the handle. Nick was a line of inquiry he never took well.

  We answered a few more questions, mostly about the tricks the guys had planned and the documentary, and got the hell out of there.

  We walked down the guarded hall, concrete on both sides, as Nick joined us, his eyes wide. “Guys—”

  “Wait one moment,” a soldier in a green uniform said to us, stepping in our path. “Turn off the cameras.”

  Bobby nodded, and the crew did so, more than aware of the laws here about photographing police. We all traded glances as an armed entourage approached.

  The guards parted, revealing a lightly bearded man in his fifties. His frame was strong, well-built, with a cocky smile and—oh God—those eyes.

  They were the eyes I loved so much, but there was no softness there, only a diamond-like hardness to them.

  “General Delgado,” the guard introduced us.

  Pax’s hand reached for mine, and he stepped closer to my side.

  “Ah, the Renegades. I was hoping I’d get to meet you. My daughter seems quite enamored of you.”

  “Your daughter?” Pax asked, smooth as butter.

  “Yes, Elisa, come up here,” he ordered, his voice turning harsh.

  I squeezed Pax’s hand as she stepped into view. Elisa was strikingly beautiful with thick, long brown hair and the same eyes that ran in the family. Her eyes darted up to ours.

  “Hi there, Elisa,” I said softly, trying to keep my heart from beating out of my chest like some kind of Poe story. What was he doing with her? She was supposed to come alone. I waited until she looked me in the eyes and then smiled. “I’m Penelope.” Please recognize my name.

  Her eyes widened. “Rebel?” She did. One small miracle on the day I needed a dozen of them.

  “That’s me. So you’re a fan?”

  She nodded.

  “Of course she never told me,” General Delgado said. “I found a ticket in her bedroom. Otherwise I never would have known.” He clapped her on the shoulder, and she cringed.

  “I just…wanted to see Doc,” Elisa said softly.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I’m so sorry, but Doc couldn’t make this show. But I know his routine, and I’m going to take his place tonight.”

  Her eyes widened, hope sparking in them, and I nodded with a shaky smile. It took every ounce of willpower in my body to not grab her and run. Screw the Open. Screw the documentary. She stood three feet in front of me, and I couldn’t do shit. I’d never felt so powerless in my life. But she was a part of Cruz, and I couldn’t—wouldn’t—fail.

  “Will you both be joining us for the show?” Pax asked, drawing the general’s attention from me.

  “We will,” he answered. “I’ve taken out a box as a present to my Elisa.”

  Fuck. She wouldn’t be in the seat we’d planned.

  “We are honored to have you,” Landon added. “You know, if you wanted the ultimate experience for your daughter, we’d love to include her in the Open.”

  I could have kissed him.

  “For just a simple ride around the arena, of course,” I said with a smile, hoping it came out innocent and naïve—something I was never good at portraying. “We’d have a helmet and everything for her, and she could ride with me. It would definitely be a day she wouldn’t forget.”

  His forehead puckered.

  “Of course, we’d also extend the offer to you, General,” Pax offered. “Anything to show our host country how thankful we are for the hospitality.”

  His chest puffed. “No, no. I’m far too old for this. But I think Elisa would like that, wouldn’t you?”

  She nodded, her eyes locked on mine.

  “It’s settled then,” Pax said. “If you’ll please excuse us, we need to make sure everything is set up for the show.”

  “Of course. I’m needed elsewhere.” The general dismissed us by turning on his heel and walking away with Elisa.

  “Was that…?” Leah asked.

  “Yep,” I responded.

  “Well, shit. Today just got a fuck-load more complicated,” Nick noted.

  “We never did like things easy. We’re going to need a distraction. We can’t just walk out with her anymore. We need something epic.” I sighed.

  “I think I have just the thing.” Nick smiled.

  …

  The BMX and skateboarding portions of the show were over. Landon had won his event by a landslide, not that I was shocked.

  “I’m a little nervous,” I admitted to Pax as we stood in full gear with our bikes. The entrance to the arena was just ahead of us, the crowd roaring for whatever had just happened.

  “I’m fucking terrified. Penna, if something happens to you…”

  I took his gloved hand in mine. “Nothing is going to happen. It’s been you and me in your backyard since we were five, Pax. We’ve pulled off the most ludicrous stunts we could think of. Isn’t it about time we did something that will make an actual difference?”

  “We’re with you, Penna,” Landon said, taking the other side.

  “Make sure you go straight back to the ship. Rachel and Leah are already there, right?”

  “Yeah. There was no chance I was letting Leah stay here with that general roaming the halls. They’ll lock this place down the minute they realize what you’ve done.”

  “The ship is due to pull out a little after midnight, so we’re cutting it close as it is,” Landon noted.

  Everything was timed to a T. General Delgado showing up had definitely thrown a huge wrench in our little machine, but this could work. As long as I could get Elisa on board before they found us, we’d be in the clear. After all, she wasn’t on the manifest, Dr. Messina was, and that giant ship had tons of places to hide her.

  Was it a bulletproof plan? No. But it was all we had.

  “Nick is all set?”

  “I’m ready. Maybe a little insane, but ready,” Nick answered as he rolled up.

  “I love you guys.”

  “Feeling’s mutual,” Landon promised.

  Helmets on, we drove out into the arena. Pax rode, rocking the high score. He might win the title with that triple front flip of his, but I’d be the one in the record book today if I nailed this.

  My name was announced to the crowd, the sound echoing around the stadium, and I took off. I pulled whips and a 360 on the smaller jumps before lining up for the super
ramp.

  My focus broke for only one thought—I wished Cruz were here.

  Shoving that away, I locked the pain down tight. Now wasn’t the time.

  Instead, I gunned it toward the ramp, hit the perfect angle, the right arc. I pulled the bike twice around, the flashes around me going off like glitter bombs, and set the bike down perfectly.

  The cheering around me filled my head as I was swept into Pax’s hug, then sandwiched by Landon. “You did it!”

  “And that’s not the hardest thing about tonight,” I said with a laugh.

  “You sure about skipping the award ceremony?” he teased with more than a hint of worry in his eyes. “You might be able to podium with that trick.”

  “Might?” I smacked his chest.

  “General Jackass will know the minute they call your name, you don’t show, and Elisa isn’t in her seat. And that’s if he doesn’t see you ride out with her in the first place.”

  “I know. We’ll be okay.”

  “We’ll see you on board,” Landon said, squeezing me tight.

  I nodded, and we broke apart as Landon handed me an extra helmet.

  It was time for the finale.

  I rode around to the Delgados’ box, where the general stood clapping, Elisa pale by his side. He frowned at my outstretched hand toward his daughter. “Unless you’d rather one of the guys take her? I’m sure she’d be happier to ride behind one of them.”

  His eyes flew to Elisa as he caught my meaning, and then he shook his head. “That was some trick, Miss Carstairs. I’m sure my daughter would be honored for your escort.”

  I smiled and handed her the helmet. She slid it on, and I worked the buckle underneath. “Ready?” I asked as she climbed over the barrier and onto the back of my bike.

  “Yes.”

  “Let’s go,” I told her. “Hold on tight. Do you understand? No matter what, don’t you dare let go.”

  She nodded, and I took off slowly, just as we’d planned. The finale commenced around us, motorcycles filling the stadium, flipping, turning, and wowing the crowd as I drove around the edge of the arena with Elisa tucked behind me.

  Just as we reached the door that led to the closest exit, my trump card played.

  Nick appeared on the smallest skateboarding ramp, raising his hands in the air as they called his name. The crowd went wild, and the guards who stood just inside the door came out to see what the ruckus was.

  Then, helmet, pads, and all, Nick rode the ramp in his chair.

  It was almost painful not to look, to watch him come back to life under those stadium lights, but I had Elisa and an open doorway.

  I took it.

  My motor echoed off the concrete hallway as we sped down the corridor. We passed guards, cameramen, and more than a few confused stadium workers.

  The guards ahead of us had their radios up to their ears, and then they drew weapons.

  “Hold on, it’s about to get sporty!” I called out.

  Elisa nodded, tucking her helmet in next to mine as she looked over my shoulder. Out of another gate, a forklift backed into the guards, forcing them into the closest supply closet.

  Little John cheered us on from the driver’s seat.

  “Go! Awards are starting!” Bobby shouted, opening the garage-door-style gate that led outside. We raced through it, hitting the slight incline out of the stadium and going airborne for a second before landing. I turned only enough to see that he’d slammed the gate back down as guards raced toward us.

  “The cars!” Elisa shouted as we raced into oncoming traffic.

  I wove in and out of the stream of cars, focusing on nothing but keeping us alive. Then I heard the sirens.

  We were busted.

  Revving the engine, I tightened my thighs and settled in for a challenge. The police cars, tiny as they were, came up behind us about a block away. Then they came from the south, blocking the easiest route back to the ship.

  Fuck. Shit. Fuck.

  “Take the tunnel!” Elisa ordered.

  “They’ll come at us on the other end!”

  “Maybe, but it’s our only shot!”

  I threw it into a higher gear and threaded the needle of two cars, speeding up the middle like it was my private lane, as we took the tunnel that ran beneath the entrance to the port of Havana.

  A pickup truck pulled up next to us and honked as flashing sirens came into view, the lights bouncing off the edges of the end of the tunnel. Soon they’d see us. We’d be toast.

  I spared a single look for the honking driver.

  Then I did a double take.

  “Cruz!” I screamed.

  “Get in!” I read his lips, the sound lost in the noise volume of the tunnel.

  “You have to get in the back, Elisa,” I shouted, hoping she could hear me through the noise.

  “What?”

  “I’m pulling as close as I can, and then you have to jump!”

  “Oh. Yeah. Okay. Right.” She nodded, her motion at odds with the petrified tone of her voice.

  The end of the tunnel was coming faster than I wanted. I pulled up to the truck so close that my leg rubbed against the metal of the bed. “Now!”

  Elisa leveraged herself with my shoulders and then, with one foot on the seat, launched herself into the bed. She made it.

  Keeping one hand on the throttle, I jumped, balancing both feet on Elizabeth’s seat as the car next to me honked and yelled something I couldn’t understand. I’d done this a thousand times before, just for fun, but never when my life depended on it.

  I took one deep breath and simultaneously let go of the throttle while I hurled myself sideways, over the bed of the truck, landing next to Elisa on something soft.

  My heart twisted for the loss of my bike as I saw her demolished under the SUV two cars back.

  “Lose your helmet!” I ordered Elisa, Cruz falling in with traffic as if we hadn’t just pulled off some Evel Knievel shit.

  She unbuckled her helmet at the same time I stripped mine, goggles and all, already mourning some of my favorite gear as I chucked it over the side. My jersey was next, leaving me in my close-fit protective jacket.

  Cruz’s hand was already extended through the back window of the truck, and I helped Elisa through. He reached back for me, and I gripped his hand quickly. We didn’t have time for any kind of reunion. I spotted the blanket we’d landed on, and lay down, pulling it over me. My heart slammed in my chest, adrenaline heightening every sensation, every feeling—especially the fear—as we drove through the tunnel. The cops at the end gave us only a cursory look from the sound of it. After all, they were looking for an American girl on a motorcycle.

  Cruz turned right, taking the road that ran level with the sea, and I flipped the blanket off, sucking in fresh air. The truck swerved in traffic, but I lay still, sliding back and forth in the bed.

  “Hold on!” Cruz yelled, and I braced myself the best I could, hooking my hands onto the edge of the truck as we jumped the curb.

  My legs slid to the other side of the bed, but I hung on as Cruz whipped the truck in a steep ninety-degree turn. “Now!” he shouted, offering his hand through the window.

  I slid through feet first, landing on the bench seat between Elisa and Cruz.

  “What were you thinking?” he shouted, his eyes glued to the road.

  “That you weren’t going to lose your chance at getting her out! Not because of me!” I fired back.

  “Cop,” Elisa said, pointing to the left.

  “Shit!” Cruz yanked the wheel as we sped through a red light, cars blaring their horns. “That’s the road to the port.”

  “How did you get here?” I asked as he passed another car.

  “I chartered a boat, and then brought the life raft ashore,” he said. “Basically I got here the same way I got out of here—illegally.”

  “Irony at its finest,” Elisa remarked. “Guys, just leave me. He’ll let you go if you leave me.”

  “No!” Cruz and I both shouted at
the same time.

  “I wasn’t going to sit there and do nothing while you risked your life,” Cruz growled, shooting me a death glare.

  “Well, it’s nice to see you?” I offered with a small cringe.

  “Stubborn woman. Insane, reckless, impulsive…” He shook his head as he pulled another sharp left turn. “And I fucking love you.”

  “They found us.” Elisa’s voice was flat as the sirens took the turn behind us.

  Dozens of blue flags flew on tall poles to the left as Cruz threw the truck in park, pulling me from the cab the moment he had the door open. He hauled me against his side as we raced around the truck to meet Elisa.

  The doors to the cop cars flew open behind us.

  This was most definitely not the ship. This was a towering building behind barbed wire…guarded by Marines. The American Embassy.

  “We’re American citizens!” Cruz shouted as we ran up the wide concrete steps.

  As the doors slammed behind us, the Marines stepped forward, drawing their weapons on the Cuban police.

  “Wait!” a stern voice rang out. “He lies!”

  General Delgado.

  The Marines looked from us to the Cubans as more armed guards came from inside the embassy.

  Complete the first double backflip by a woman on a motocross bike? Check.

  Start an international incident? Check.

  “I have our passports,” I told them, reaching in my back pocket for both mine and Elisa’s and waving them.

  “But he is Cuban!” General Delgado shouted.

  The guard checked our passports, waved only us girls through, and I pushed Elisa lightly. “Get in.”

  Her eyes flickered between us, and Cruz hugged her. “Go.”

  She ran, and my shoulders sagged in relief.

  Cruz produced his passport, showing it to the guard.

  “That paper means nothing! He was born in Cuba,” General Delgado said as we turned hand-in-hand to face him. “And Cuba recognizes no other citizenship for her native-born sons. They cannot accept you over my jurisdiction.”

  General Delgado motioned with a hand, and four policemen ran up the steps toward us.

  Cruz’s eyes flew wide, and he grabbed my face, pressing a hard kiss to my lips. “I love you.”

  “Cruz!” Two Cuban officers ripped him from my arms, dragging him down the concrete steps at the same time the Marines stepped forward to flank me. “Do something!” I screamed at the Marines.