Ricochet (Renegades #3)(91)
Author: Skye Jordan

“No. No, no, no.”

Rachel’s mind flew backward and filled with the memory of waking to Nathan yelling,“Cover!” and the eerie sight of him belly-crawling the same way along the floor of his room, then struggling with invisible men.

She pushed away from Troy, peeled through the staff, and broke into a run. Another round of explosions erupted, and fire flashed in Rachel’s eyes. She turned away, shutting her eyes. When her vision readjusted to the dark, she searched for Charlie and Ray and Nathan, and found only an empty wheelchair.

“Oh my God.” She broke into a run again, searching the shadows. She caught glimpses of a skirmish on the ground, but by the time she reached the struggle, others had closed in from all directions—Jax and Wes from the booth, Keaton and Duke from the crowd. Troy on her ass.

Overhead, the choppers’ blades drowned out all sound. Another explosion erupted, the ground shook, and Rachel tripped, almost taking out a still camera on her right. She caught herself on her hands and knees, scuttled to her feet, and kept running. In the shadows, Rachel saw Ryker push Ray’s wheelchair over and used it and his own body to shield Ray, while he continued to struggle with Charlie.

When she reached Nathan, she dropped to her knees and fisted his shirt. “Stop!” She yelled at what felt like full capacity but barely heard her own voice. She pulled herself closer with his shirt, put her face by his ear, and screamed. “Nathan, stop! You’re home. You’re safe. Everything’s—”

Jax and Wes each grabbed one of Nathan’s arms, and his head came up, smashing Rachel’s cheekbone. She flew backward, ass in the dirt, pain ripping through her face. Dizzy, she struggled to steady her vision and focused just as Nathan reared backward with a growl even Rachel heard among the din. His arm ripped from Jax’s grip, and Nathan swung around, catching Wes by the throat and slamming the two-hundred-pound Renegade to the dirt.

“Cover, goddammit,” Nathan bellowed. “Stay down!”

Keaton, Duke, and Troy clustered around the melee, searching for a place to jump into the brawl. Rachel lunged for Troy’s arm and held on.

“Flashback!” she yelled to be heard over the choppers, the crash of concrete and metal. “Don’t jump him, it’s a flashback!”

But it was too late. All five Renegades piled on Nathan, and the struggle continued even after the last explosion and the bridge lay in rubble in the river. Nathan fought like an absolute wild man, throwing Keaton and Troy off him at the same time, then taking on Jax, Duke, and Wes again.

“Stop!” Rachel screamed so hard she thought her chest would crack. “Stop fighting him!”

A Maglite beam cut through the night and flooded the fight with halogen. Charlie stumbled close, shining the light directly into Nathan’s face. “Raid’s over ,” he yelled, his deep, gruff, booming voice vibrating in Rachel’s ears. “Stop fightin’, you idiot.”

“Jesus Christ.” Rachel scrambled to her knees and crawled the short distance to reach the group. “Get off him.” She yanked at hands tearing Nathan’s shirt. Shoved at legs holding Nathan down. “Goddammit!” She pushed up on her knees and screamed, at her breaking point. “If you don’t all get off him right this second, I’m going stomp your nuts!”

Wes released his hold first and rolled off Nathan, who was squinting, his head turned away from the light. His chest heaved, blood marred his face, and Rachel’s heart broke with the trauma of it all.

She reached up and shoved Charlie’s hand away. “Get that out of his face,” she yelled, her voice hoarse. “The rest of you, move!”

As the Renegades slowly unwound themselves and climbed off Nathan, Rachel cuddled close. His eyes were hazed with the same deep confusion shining there as when he’d been on the verge of coming out of his nightmare.

She pushed his hair out of his eyes and supported his head with her arm. “Nathan, baby, it’s okay now.” She was shaking—her body, her voice, her very soul. She caressed his face and pressed her cheek to his head. “Just a bad memory. You’re safe. Everyone’s safe.”

He coughed and sat up. Rachel followed. Beside him, she kept one hand tight on his thigh, the other combing through his hair. But the motion made their surroundings come into focus. Several flashlights shone now, creating aglow in the dark. And everyone—as in every damned person involved in the stunt—stood around gawking, including Josh, who stood on the edge of the crowd with a fierce but conflicted expression.

That was the very moment Nathan came out of the traumatic flashback. “What…What’s happening?”

She tried to shield his view with her body, pushing up on her knees and taking his face in her hands. “Everything’s okay,” she reassured him, then turned and scanned the crowd. “Give us some air here.” When she refocused on Nathan, she saw him returning from the void, filled with shame and fury. “Look at me, Nathan.”

His gaze darted to hers, and the raw accusation there drilled ice straight into her gut. “What the fuck…?”

Tensing, he gripped her wrist and yanked her hand away from his face. He darted a look over the crowd and returned his gaze to Rachel’s, sparking with fear and doubt and raw fury. For a moment, she swore he looked at her like the enemy.

She leaned away, keeping her voice level and soft. “Nathan, do you know who I am?”

“Of course I know who you are.” And just like that, he was instantly lucid.

And livid.

He shoved her hands away and rose to his feet in one fluid, strong move. When he stood, his gaze scanned the others looking on, and the horrifying realization of knowing they’d watched his meltdown flashed in his eyes. And he looked down at her again.

In that moment, Rachel had a flashback of her own. Of Dante standing over her in the same way after she’d broken down over the truth of his affair with Nicole. She’d slumped on the sofa in his New York living room, sobbing with betrayal, and Dante had delivered the same accusatory, furious glare.

With Dante, she’d stayed on the couch, fallen asleep there sobbing when he’d walked out. And hadn’t regained her self-respect for months.

Now she pressed her hands to the ground and forced herself to her feet. A hand gripped her arm and helped her up, but Rachel shook it off, and when she finally straightened, she found Josh standing beside her, ready to support her if needed. And Nathan standing in front of her, ready to skewer her—the sacrificial lamb to his demons.