Ricochet (Renegades #3)(59)
Author: Skye Jordan

Rachel’s heart thudded so hard in her ears, their footsteps vanished instantly. She tiptoed to the window, where she peeked between the blinds, her heart thudding painfully in her chest. Ryker shrugged into his shirt as the three of them stopped by Rachel’s cabin and knocked on her door before continuing on. When they turned out of the row of bunkhouses, Rachel inched open Ryker’s door and darted back across the road and up the row to her cabin.

Even once she’d gotten inside, unseen, her heart wouldn’t slow. Her mind wouldn’t stop spinning. Her conscience wouldn’t stop berating itself. This was the kind of thing Nicole did—things behind people’s backs. Nicole was the one who took risks with other people’s futures and other people’s feelings, and Rachel had always hated her for that. But here she was, risking friendships and livelihoods and futures for her own pleasure.

She went into the bedroom and yanked a sweater from the dresser, dragging it on just as she heard Nathan’s and Jax’s voices nearing again.

She turned on the living room light and took a deep breath just as Josh said, “Her light’s on.”

Footsteps neared, and a knock sounded on her door.

She opened it feeling like an idiot pretending to be surprised. “Hey, guys. What’s up?”

“Where were you?” Jax asked. “We’ve been looking for you.”

“I’m sorry, I went for a walk and forgot my phone. What do you need?”

Jax repeated what he’d told Ryker earlier.

“Sure.” She closed the door to her cabin. “Let’s go over to the office. I’ve got everything on my computer.”

“Safe drive home,” Nathan told Jax, standing back, hands stuffed into his front pockets, expression grim. “Thanks.” Jax shook Ryker’s hand. “See you soon.”

Rachel pulled her sweater across her body and forced herself not to look back at him again as she, Jax, and Josh started toward the office, but her insides churned with guilt and conflict. All when she’d been so blissful with him just moments ago.

15

She was avoiding him.

Ryker stabbed at a piece of pancake as Marx rambled on about some more goddamned rules Ryker wasn’t going to follow anyway, so he’d tuned the jackass out as soon as he’d sat at the table. But the cook who’d shown up that morning was already shutting down the kitchen, and Rachel hadn’t come in for breakfast.

The incident last night had spooked her as badly as he’d feared. He’d tried to tell himself all damn night that she’d be fine by morning. That this wasn’t a setback.

“So, we’ll go up and mark and drill this morning for the RDX,” Marx was saying.

Ryker didn’t even bother to look at the ass. He kept staring at the door, willing her to walk through. Or, better yet, willing this developing hole in his chest to close up. “No. We’re rigging the catwalk and the safety lines today. If that goes well, then we’ll drill.”

“I want to be here when you—”

“Then you’ll have to stay on site twenty-four-seven, Marx.” Ryker finally turned his gaze on the man. “Because I’m not working around your stupid-ass three days a week. I don’t need an insurance man babysitting me, and the steel disks I’m using in the holes to keep the RDX from blowing out the bottom of the road and damaging the integrity of the structure aren’t here yet. Remember? Safety first? Rachel or I will have the whole action plan to you by the end of the day.”

Ryker pushed his chair back and glanced at the three others sitting with them. “Ray and Brad, haul the ropes up top. Charlie, grab the carabineers, harnesses, hardhats, and tools. I’ll meet you guys at the south end of the bridge at oh-eight-thirty.”

“Why are you starting at the south end?” Marx asked, ready to throw another wrench into Ryker’s life.

“Check the weather before you ask stupid questions,” he said. “And stay the hell out of my way today if you don’t want to go over the side, Marx.”

After dumping his tray, Ryker stepped outside the dining hall and watched delivery trucks back into the loading dock. Six more employees had come on this morning, and most of those were unloading, stocking, and taking inventory of the new supplies, then delivering them to different areas of the site.

He could see how quickly this place would become a hive of activity. Which was even better for hiding a covert affair. But somehow, he doubted Rachel would see it that way. And the fact that he knew what she’d say before he even walked into the office seriously irked him.

At the door, he heard familiar voices and rolled his eyes. Great. He wouldn’t even be able to get her alone for a decent two-minute conversation. He stepped in to find Katie and Kelly on their way out.

“Oh, look who’s here,” One of them said as they both stopped in front of him and gave him their full attention. “Did you miss us last night?”

“Being into someone who’s not around,” the other twin said, “isn’t going to keep you warm at night, handsome.”

The first one put a hand on his arm as she passed by. “You know where to find us if you change your mind.”

He waited until they were gone to wander into the office. Rachel stood at the printer, head bent over a sheaf of papers. She wore ink-black jeans that hugged her gorgeous legs and rode low on her hips. The pockets were jeweled, drawing his gaze to her ass, as if he needed any help there. Her blouse was a sheer pattern of cobalt and violet with a thin-strapped halter beneath. She’d wound her hair into a loose bun, and dark tendrils lay against her slender neck.

An uncomfortable feeling stirred deep inside him. One that made him clench his teeth. It had been nagging at him for a few days but now seemed to settle in the pit of his stomach like a stone that wouldn’t go away. Sometimes it felt like anger. Sometimes pain. Sometimes loss. But when it came to Rachel, he often thought it felt more like want. One with the potential to become something fierce if Ryker looked too closely.

He walked into her office and stopped a few feet past the door. “Hey.”

She turned and glanced his way, but her gaze didn’t stay on him longer than a second before it darted away. “Hey.”

Her face was drawn, and her eyes were red. Alarm tightened his shoulders. “Are you okay?”

She moved behind one of the two desks, set the paper down, and cleared her throat. But she still didn’t answer.

He moved to the front of her desk. “Rachel?”