Crash Into You (24 page)

Chapter 52
Rachel

MY BROTHERS FOLLOW ME TO
class. Every class. I ditch one brother when class starts and pick up another when class ends. I tried losing them at lunch by seeking refuge in the library, but one or both still trailed behind me. I’m furious with my unwanted bodyguards.

The bell rings. The collective sigh of it’s-Friday relief from the English class visiting the library is tangible. Books snap shut and zippers on backpacks close into place. I shelve the remaining books, grab my stuff and head into the hallway. My skin feels as if it’s going to peel off my bones. I haven’t seen Isaiah since Saturday and I miss him—desperately.

Against the wall of lockers, Ethan waits with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his dress khakis. “You’ve never gone this long without talking to me.”

For the first time in a week, Ethan and I look at each other without glaring. I attempt to ignore the hurt swimming in his dark eyes, but I can’t. Ethan is my twin—my best friend. “You started this.”

“Tell me you aren’t seeing the punk and it’ll end.”

My grip tightens on my pack. “He is not a punk.”

“West and I are trying to protect you. That’s all.” Ethan reaches out as if he’s going to take my hand, a reaction to his hurt and mine. A comforting touch we’ve shared since toddlerhood. “We saw the picture. Tattoos. Earrings. The guy looks like a damn serial killer.”

“He’s not.”

Ethan’s arm falls to his side. My hand twitches, not used to feeling empty.

I step toward him, pleading. “I know he looks tough, but he’s an amazing guy on the inside. If you and West would try to get to know him...”

“Then bring him home to meet Mom and Dad. To meet us.”

“I can’t.” I shift from my left to right foot. “Not yet.”

Because if Mom and Dad discover I’m dating Isaiah they’ll become grime caked on an axle, and I’ll never be allowed out of the house. Isaiah and I agreed that we need to pay off Eric before we drop the dating bomb on my parents.

Ethan and West want me to dump Isaiah, and they’d prefer for me to do it without anyone, meaning my parents and our older brothers, finding out that he existed. I’m gambling that their need to protect Mom and Dad, coupled with the fact that Gavin and Jack will kick their asses for letting me get close to a guy, will keep them from ratting me out. So far, I’ve been right. This weekend, I may have to be home by ten, since Ethan won’t cover for me anymore, but at least I can make it to the races.

Ethan pushes off the lockers. “You won’t introduce him to Mom and Dad because he’s bad news and you know it.”

I roll my eyes and walk alongside Ethan. My heart aches. I miss my best friend. I miss not being able to tell him everything in my life. He can blame Isaiah for our strained relationship, but that’s not the case. Our relationship started to deteriorate years ago when I began to lie about the attacks.

My head tilts when the words he said to West in the locker room last week haunt me. “You told West that you knew that I’d been lying about my panic attacks.”

Ethan dips his head, as if he’s counting the floor tiles. “I know you better than anyone else. At least I thought I did. I know when you’re in pain. I know when you hurt.”

Neither one of us say anything as we pass a group of seniors cutting up. Both of us scan the crowd for West. In the middle, dark blue eyes that mirror mine peer at me. West’s smile falters, but he’s quick to hide the concern. My chest hurts. Both of them love me.

“If the two of you suspected, then why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because...” He takes a deep breath. “Because we’re selfish assholes who wanted Mom for a few seconds. She was always so obsessed with you and your attacks that we got nothing. When you claimed to be better, she was still up your butt, but at least we got something.”

“I never asked for this,” I say as we go down the stairs. “Any of it. For the panic attacks. To be Colleen’s replacement.”

“I know,” he says. “And to be honest, that’s why West and I pity you instead of hate you.”

How on earth has my family become so dysfunctional? We walk outside, and Ethan places a hand on my shoulder to stop me. My stomach cramps as if I’ve been sucker punched when he immediately removes his arm. We’re so distant we can’t even touch.

“Talk to us—me and West. Tell us the whole truth about the attacks. We’ll find a way to make everything work between you and Mom and the speeches. And dump the punk. It’s not like you’re going to see him anyway. I won’t cover you anymore, and if I don’t cover you, Mom will start asking questions about where you’re going. There’s no way you’ll be able to think of a good enough excuse as to why you suddenly have a life.”

Ethan is right, and I start to wonder how I’ll make it to the dragway without his help. If I tell Ethan the truth about Eric, he’ll go ballistic and he’ll possibly snitch on me to my parents. Movement near where I parked my car causes me to shift so I can look past my brother.

Holy hell. I brush past Ethan and try to think of something coherent to say other than, “What are you doing here, Abby?”

In a white button-down shirt remarkably like mine, and a blue-and-green plaid uniform skirt, Abby leans against my car. “Do you like it? Isaiah and I skipped this afternoon and went to Goodwill. Don’t you think it’s ironic that Goodwill has clothes for a private school? If you have money to go to a private school, you probably wouldn’t shop at Goodwill.”

My mouth pops open with a million questions, but before I can ask any of them, Ethan appears by my side. “Who are you?”

“Abby,” she says. “And you are?”

“Ethan,” I answer. “He’s my twin.”

Her eyes dart between us. “You don’t look anything alike.”

“I’m a boy. She’s a girl. I sure as hell hope we don’t,” says Ethan.

Abby flashes a daring smile. “I like you.”

Ethan ignores her statement. “How do you know Rachel?”

“We’re friends,” she answers. “I go to that other rich school.”

My eyes widen as I understand. Blue-and-green uniform. Abby’s faking that she belongs in my world by pretending she goes to a school that is acceptable to my family. “Mason Academy.”

“Yeah,” she says. “That one. I’m new to town and met Rachel at the mall.”

I clear my throat as Ethan automatically doesn’t buy anything that involves me and malls.

“Parking lot,” adds Abby. “Mall parking lot. I had a flat. She helped. It was all serendipitous. I like bunnies. She likes bunnies. We totally clicked.”

Ethan’s eyebrows furrow together as he assesses me. “You like bunnies?”

“My brother dropped me off,” Abby continues, “because our school gets out before your school and you promised we could do girl stuff at your house.”

“Abby,” I interrupt before she says anything else. “Let’s go.”

“I’ll meet you at home, Rach.” Ethan continues to eye Abby.

With Ethan safely in his car behind us and Abby in the passenger side, I let the questions flow. “What are you doing? How did you get here? What is going on?”

“Did you snort crack? Don’t answer. Isaiah said you lost your way out of the house past curfew. We bought these clothes, he dropped me off here, and ta-da...I’m your new best friend—private school–going, new in town, rich Abby.”

I glance in my rearview mirror. Ethan is hot on my tail. “I don’t get it. How is this supposed to help?”

“Introduce me to your parents tonight and then I’ll invite you for a sleepover tomorrow.”

My entire body feels lighter. Isaiah thinks of everything. “Serendipitous?”

“Do you like it?” She waggles her eyebrows. “I learned it for today.”

Chapter 53
Isaiah

LOGAN HOVERS OVER THE ENGINE
as I slide myself underneath. I’m changing the oil in my car, again. The engine’s been acting funny, and my gut tells me she’s close to overheating. The continued drag racing is aging my baby.

“I’m not feeling the cash flow tonight,” says Logan.

“Me, either.” The types of people we race do it for shits and giggles. Side bets are for those who feel cocky. Logan and I have kicked ass for two weekends straight. Tonight, we’ll have plenty of people who will race against us for bragging rights, but few will put up money.

“Explain bracket racing,” he says.

My hands hesitate as I work. Bracket racing. The thought has circled in my head. “They do it on Sundays. If you think you can hit an eighth mile in 10 seconds then you race against other cars that can do the same. Same rules apply at the line. You can’t go before the green, but they will give you a handicap. If the competition is a second faster than you, then you’ll get to leave a second faster. Whoever crosses the line first without breaking the green wins.”

“Sounds fair enough,” says Logan.

I roll out from underneath my car. “But if you say you can hit an eighth in 10 seconds and you take the finish line at 9.9 seconds, then you lose. You have to stay above 10 seconds.”

“What?”

“You pick your target, man. It’s like a game show. You pick the number you think you can take the finish line in without going over. If you go over that number, you lose.”

Logan scratches the back of his head. “That means we have to have an insane reaction time at the line and watch that we don’t go too fast, but fast enough to beat whoever we’re against all in a matter of seconds.”

I nod.

“And the world got complicated.”

“Always does.”

“What’s the draw?” says Logan.

“There’s a pot for the first three finishers. The pot for a street car like mine isn’t worth the investment, but if we add a nitro system, then we could compete in a class where the money may be worth it.”

Logan gets that crazy glint in his eye anytime we discuss something that involves the cars going faster. “Then we should add a nitro system. I can’t think of anything holding you back.”

Both of us turn our heads to the sweet sound of Rachel’s Mustang pulling in. Sitting on the rolling board, I rest my arms on my bent knees and watch as my angel glides into the garage.

Logan glances at her then me. “Think I discovered your issue.”

“Yeah.” Nitro can be dangerous, and I don’t want the system in her car.

In the used designer jeans and soft blue sweater we bought at the Goodwill, Abby looks like a completely different person.

“Her brothers are hot. Annoying, but hot,” announces Abby. “Just saying.”

I stand, and Rachel weaves her arms around my neck. I kiss her lips. “Hey, angel.”

“Hi.” Red touches her cheeks. Either because she hasn’t seen me in a week or because she’s staying the night with me.

“You look nice,” says Logan. Rachel and I turn to see Logan checking Abby out.

“Did I mention her brothers aren’t nearly as hot as you?” Abby flashes a sexy grin. She doesn’t release that smile often and flags shoot straight into the air.

I roll my eyes. Logan and Abby hooking up is not a good idea. She destroys guys and...I like Logan. “Logan, I forgot my seed money. Wanna come back with me to pick it up?”

“Sure.”

I kiss Rachel’s lips again. “Be back in a sec.”

Chapter 54
Rachel

FIDDLING WITH A WRENCH, I
listen to Abby gush about my family. How insanely nice my parents are and how crazy it is that all of my brothers are good-looking. I’ll admit, I’m blessed. I have so much more than others, and on the outside my family is absolutely perfect.

“Hello, Rachel.”

My head snaps up and Abby falls silent. My heart drums, and a cold sweat breaks out over my body, onto my palms. I swipe my hands against my jeans the moment I see the face that haunts my nightmares. “Eric.”

He strides into the garage as if he owns the place. His green army jacket engulfs his bony body. “Making new friends, Abby?”

Abby straightens beside me, and gone is the girl that I’ve come to know over the past couple of weeks. All emotion drains from her face and leaves a hardness that frightens me. “This isn’t your block, Eric. It belongs to me.”

“No, it belongs to the person you pay off to keep you and your family safe.” Eric makes a show of glancing over both of his shoulders before leaning into Abby. His nose nearly touches hers. “And I don’t see him here.”

She doesn’t flinch. A creepy smile eases onto her face as she tosses her hair so she can stare him straight in the eye. “One phone call, Eric, and it’ll be raining fire and brimstone.”

If I didn’t know better, I would have thought fear flashed in his eyes. “You’d let Isaiah be caught in the crosshairs? I don’t think so.” Eric switches his sights to me. “How’s it going with my money?”

“Fine.” I rub my arms. The skin crawls as he invades my personal space. He’s so close that I smell his breath.

“Word on the street is that you might make deadline,” he breathes out as his eyes linger near my chest.

I cross my arms, trying to hide what he’s focusing on. Adrenaline begins to leak into my bloodstream, and I silently pray for Isaiah to stride back into the door. Isaiah can fix this. He knows how to make me feel safe.

“Don’t let him get to you,” Abby says. “He’s like those damn annoying dogs always starved for attention and begging for scraps at the table. It’s best to pretend he doesn’t exist.”

“Watch your mouth,” he mutters.

“You’re pathetic and transparent. Isaiah won’t fall for your intimidation shit, which is why I’m guessing you’re here.”

Eric tears his eyes away from Abby and this time stares at my lips. “How close are you really to paying me off? We could make a deal. You do something for me and I’ll provide a discount for you.”

Abby appears at my side. “Step back, Eric.”

He smirks. “Or what, Abby? You gonna jack up the prices on the drugs you sell? I’m aware of the service charge reserved only for me. You need to start rethinking your business practices.”

My head jerks and Abby falters. Our eyes meet and her calm, cold facade cracks.

Eric laughs. “She didn’t know that you’re a drug dealer, did she?”

When Abby says nothing, Eric inches closer. I inch to the side, but Eric follows. Without thinking, I trapped myself against a wall. I don’t like how Eric looks at me. The panic begins to claw at my chest and I swallow. I need to stay in control.

“Did you know that Isaiah is an addict? Uses like the rest of us street rats.” His eyes wander up, then down. “What kind of currency are you paying Isaiah to take on this debt? Not cash, I’m guessing.”

Eric raises his hand and all the air squeezes out of my lungs. I gasp right as he moves to touch my skin. He can’t touch me. I won’t let him. My hands thrust out and I push at his chest.

Anger explodes in his dark, soulless eyes. He grabs my wrist, slamming it over my head into the concrete wall. I scream.

Abby screams.

And with my free hand I’m hitting and kicking and so is Abby and suddenly...

He’s gone.

The world spins, and I can’t find my bearings. There’s more yelling and more voices. Gravity overtakes me as I can’t inhale. Abby appears in front of me—dark eyes and hair. “Rachel!”

Abby is free of Eric. We both are. I grab her, still struggling for air, and drag both of us as I stumble into the office. I need to make sure we’re safe—me and Abby. She’s my friend and I can’t leave her behind.

She says things, things I don’t understand, and she strokes my hair while she talks. I can’t breathe. I can’t.

She disappears and in her place are gray storm clouds. “Breathe, angel. Come on.”

Isaiah. I wrap my arms around him, and he holds me—tightly. I listen to his heart: the steady beat, the steady pace, and within a few seconds I start to match his breathing. I inhale deeply one more time. “Isaiah.”

He cups my face and forces me to meet his eyes. “Are you okay?”

I nod. “Eric?”

“Is gone,” says Logan from the doorway of the office.

Isaiah helps me walk back into the garage. Logan’s right. It’s only the four of us. With her shoulders hunched, Abby stands beside Logan. She lifts her head only to share a wary glance with him, then Isaiah, but not me.

“What’s wrong?” I ask. Because I can feel it. A heaviness that wasn’t here before.

Isaiah swears under his breath. “I’m sorry.”

I hate the prickling in my stomach, a sensation foretelling doom. “For what?”

“I hit him. Eric. I came in and saw the two of you fighting him off, and I hit him. Hard.”

“Good.” I mean it. If I could have socked him in the jaw and caused the bastard to bleed then I would have, but I’m not that strong.

“You don’t hit Eric.” Abby nudges her foot at the concrete. “Not without repercussions.”

My stomach cramps. “Is he going to hurt you?” No, please no. My hands flutter near Isaiah’s face, terrified of Eric hurting him. “I’ll apologize. I’ll...I’ll...” I have no idea what to do.

Isaiah takes my hands. “He moved up the due date. We have to pay him in one week.”

My head becomes light and I sway. Isaiah places his hands on my waist to steady me.

“It’s unexpected,” he says. “But not impossible. We’re close to the total. Let’s race tonight, count our winnings and see where we stand.”

Okay. He’s right. Plus Isaiah would never lie. “All right.”

“Abby!” Logan calls out. “Where’re you going?”

With her hands in her pockets, Abby walks away from the garage. Isaiah holds on when I move to go after her. “I’m okay,” I tell him. “I need to talk to her.”

Isaiah releases me, but keeps his arm near my elbow in case I drop. “Abby!”

She continues to walk away and I quicken my pace. “Abby!”

Abby stops on the sidewalk and doesn’t turn around. I slow as I approach and think of Eric’s words and Abby’s description of her job. She’s a drug dealer.

A drug dealer. My first real girlfriend is a drug dealer. My entire world feels upside down and sideways; yanked inside out then pulled back out again. With new eyes, I look at Abby. She’s exactly the same as before: black hoodie, braver-than-I-could-ever-be jeans and long brown hair. She’s a beautiful girl—a mystery to me, and bold, but what I’ve never seen is how seventeen she appears. How...young, like me.

She’s what I should hate in the world, yet she’s come to be someone I love.

“Thanks,” I say.

She flips her hair over her shoulder. “For what?”

“For helping me with Eric.”

“He’s an asshole.”

“Yes. He is.” I hesitate. Eric called Isaiah an addict. He called her a drug dealer. Drug dealers are bad and Abby isn’t. She’s good. “Why?”

She shrugs, not even pretending she doesn’t know what I mean. “I inherited a mess, and someday, I’m not going to do this anymore. But right now, there are problems with my family and I’m the only one who can fix them.”

I understand inheriting a mess. My birthright is to make up for Colleen’s death and as for family problems, I understand those, too. “Can you come with us tonight? It gets lonely sitting in the stands by myself.”

Abby stares at me blankly, as if she never heard me speak. “I don’t use the drugs. I swear to God I’m clean. And I never bring them around you.”

“I believe you.”

She narrows her eyes. “Why?”

Because she stands by me. Because I think she loves me like I love her. “Because we’re friends.”

Abby smiles. “I knew there was a reason I chose you to be my best friend.”

Is it strange that that just made me incredibly happy? “Me, too.”

Abby and I both take interest in anything else but each other. I think this whole friend thing is completely new to both of us. From the open bay of the garage, Isaiah watches us with his hands shoved in his pockets. Logan stands right behind him. They’re a strange combo, but so are Abby and I.

There’s so much I thought I understood, but that’s not the truth. I avoid issues more than I try to understand. “Abby?” Deep breath. “Does Isaiah use drugs?”

She tucks her hair behind her ear again. “I think you should talk to him.”

It’s as if my soul became too heavy for my heart. That’s a conversation I don’t want to have.