Текст книги "Crash into You"

Автор книги: Katie McGarry

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Текущая страница: 19 (всего у книги 27 страниц)

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.

Chapter 55

Isaiah

RACHEL’S LIGHT FOOTFALLS CAUSE THE wooden stairs to groan. “Seven hundred dollars. If you asked me two weeks ago if we could make seven hundred dollars in one week, I would have said yes, but after tonight...I don’t know.”

As predicted, we found plenty of guys willing to race us, but not as many who were willing to place bets. I carry her overnight bag in one hand and hold her fingers with the other. “Logan and I knew that this could be a problem. But I think we can make seven hundred in the next week. It’ll be tight, but it will happen.”

She continues to stare at the floor as we walk to my apartment. “I could hock more of my jewelry, but Mom figured out I got rid of one of the pieces. I told her I lost it. I’m not sure if she’ll continue to buy the excuse if I ‘lose’ any more.”

I let go of her hand, unlock the door and push it open. She enters first, flipping on the light as she goes. I love how she feels comfortable here.

“It feels hopeless,” she says. “Like we get two steps forward and take a trillion back.”

I can’t help but smile. Rachel does this sometimes—wallows, but I don’t mind. It never lasts long, and she’s usually repentant when she’s done.

“Do you trust me?” I ask as I close the door and lock the dead bolt.

Rachel blinks and the crimson on her cheeks tells me she snapped out of wallowing. “Yes.”

“Then you know that when I say I’m going to fix something, I do. On my life, Rachel, Eric will be paid back in a week.”

She fidgets with the ends of her hair. “I’m sorry. It’s just that everything seems so big all the time and...”

And here comes the repentance. I wrap my arms around her waist. “I want you to forget about it. At least for tonight.”

She bites her bottom lip and glances up from below heavy eyelashes. “Okay.”

Nerves are written all over her face. I kiss the top of her head and give her the room she needs by going into the kitchen and cocking a hip against the counter. Rachel’s never stayed the night with a girlfriend, much less a boyfriend.

She leans against the back of the couch. “If I ask you something, will you be honest?”

“Always.”

“Did you know that Abby is a drug dealer?”

Damn, straight to the point. I pull at my bottom earring. Abby warned me at the dragway about this conversation. I had no idea Rachel would yank out the guns this early. “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She inspects her nails like this is casual for her, but I know better.

“Because it’s Abby’s story to tell, not mine. She promised to keep her business away from you, and when Abby gives her word, she means it. If I thought you’d be in danger, I’d be in the middle of this.”

She scoffs like I told a joke. “You can’t get in the middle of anything.”

I say nothing because I don’t argue. Rachel’s safety and happiness is my priority. “What you did for Abby tonight was nice.” Nice is an understatement. For the first time since I’ve known Abby, someone gave her love.

“She’s my friend,” she says softly.

Rachel laces her hands together, unlaces and repeats. Something’s digging at her and I want her inner thoughts. “What’s bothering you?”

She lets her hands fall to her sides. “Zach offered to race against me. Since we need money, I should accept.”

The guy is becoming a switchblade in my thigh. “Did he say something to you tonight?”

“Yes, but he first brought it up weeks ago...”

“I know.” And I told him to stay clear of her. It’s too coincidental, Eric showing at the garage this evening then Zach approaching her at the dragway tonight, and I don’t believe in chance. Zach’s trying to pull Rachel into a race, but I can’t see the benefit of it. I can’t see how that would help Eric win.

“I want to help.” There’s hurt in her eyes, and it dawns on me that there’s more to her and Zach’s conversations than cars.

“What’s he saying to you?”

Rachel pauses as she chooses her words. She doesn’t do that often and my gut twists. “Do you trust me?” she asks.

A combination of dread and anger pummels my insides as the answer slams into my head. Zach is trying to create doubt. They’re trying to place a wedge between us.

“I trust you.” And she needs to trust me back. “I’ll take care of the money, Rachel. All right?” I’m not asking permission, but I am asking her to drop it. “And stay away from Zach.”

“Why? I know he can come on a little strong, but he really doesn’t bother me.”

My neck tightens as I contemplate telling Rachel my theory on Zach and Eric. But then I wonder if that would scare her. She already mentioned a few minutes ago how she feels overwhelmed by it all. “Can you just trust me?”

“Okay.” She glances around the empty apartment, reminiscent of her first night here. “Do you mind if I take a shower? I smell like burnt rubber.”

“Sure.” If she does, then I must reek like I bathed in it. “I’ll take one after.”

* * *

The subflooring is cold beneath my feet, and after the heat from the misty bathroom my body shudders against the temperature of the apartment. I change to a fresh pair of jeans and walk into the dark bedroom for a shirt.

In a tank top and pair of cotton drawstring pants, Rachel sits in the middle of my bed with her knees drawn to her chest. Her hair is blown dry and angles around her face. Light from the street highlights her perfectly, casting a heavenly glow.

I’m reaching into the laundry basket next to the bed for a T-shirt when delicate fingers touch my wrist. “Can I look at your tattoos?”

My mouth dries out when I meet her eyes. There’s no seduction there, but honest curiosity. My heart beats faster when I nod and join her on the bed. Rachel traces the dragon. Playing with fire again, her tickling caress strikes a match and creates a slow burn.

“Did it hurt?” she asks. “The tattoos?”

“Some areas more than others.”

“What was it like?”

As her fingernails slide down my arm to the knot tattooed on my forearm, shivers run through my blood. “Like someone with sharp nails scratching a sunburn.”

“Why do you do it?”

It’s a simple question, but a complex answer. “So I’ll always remember.”

Rachel traces the twists and turns of the Brothers of Arrow Knot, granting me silence. It’s my decision whether or not to continue the conversation. My angel does this—she opens the door and allows me the freedom to decide whether or not I want to step through. It’s strange, my entire life I’ve had doors closed on me and now that one’s open, I’m not sure how to enter.

I suck in air, guessing one way is headfirst. “That one’s for Noah.”

Rachel’s eyes flash to mine, and I take comfort in the happiness I created there.

“It’s a Celtic knot—it means warriors bonded as brothers through battle.”

The right side of her mouth tips. “Does that mean you and Noah have been on the same side of several fistfights?”

I chuckle, remembering a few we probably shouldn’t have taken on. “Yeah. But it’s more than that. Noah accepts people as they are. Doesn’t ask. Doesn’t judge. He’s family.”

Though lately he’s been inching away by following his dreams. Someday, he’ll graduate from college, get a real job and marry Echo. Then they’ll be a family without me.

Rachel moves to kneel in front of me. Everything about her is softness and curves. Too innocent. Too beautiful. She admires her favorite tattoo—the tiger.

I sweep the bangs from her eyes. “I used to be weak when I was younger. The smallest kid in the class and the group home. I kept waiting for someone to save me.” Like how that old tiger must have waited for someone to release him from his cage. “One day I decided to save myself, and I stopped being weak.”

She touches the tiger. “So you got the tattoo.”

I shrug. Such honesty makes me uncomfortable. “Earrings first. Then I started hanging out with the type of people most avoided. Got in fights just to prove I’d never run. Then, when I scraped up enough money, I got the tattoo.”

Rachel withdraws her hand and prepares for the other question Abby warned would be coming. “Do you do drugs?”

“I have.” I won’t lie. Not to her. “I do drink. But I don’t like the feeling of being high or being drunk. Losing control isn’t my style. I make people believe I do drugs. It’s better if people are scared of me.”

“Why?”

I jerk my chin toward the window. “Life is different out there. I’ve survived because of what I make people think. No one messes with me, and that same reputation has kept you safe because no one would mess with anything that’s mine.”

She wipes at her forehead, but her bangs were already swept to the side. “Eric messed with me.”

“Because he knows we’re close to paying him off. He wanted to push my buttons and I fell for it. He wants us to fail. Eric wants more than money. He wants power, and it would be a strong message to a lot of people if he held power over me.”

Rachel picks at the lint on the blanket with her eyes cast down. My iron wall, the one she expertly maneuvered around, becomes cold underneath my skin. I’ve bared my soul and she has to be second-guessing being with me.

“This is who I am, Rachel. Accept it or not. The tattoos won’t wash off. The earrings will never change. I am who I am and nothing more. I’m loyal to a chosen few, I always keep my word and I’ll protect you with my life.

“I scare the hell out of most people, but you will never have anything to fear from me. Choose. Love me or don’t. But tell me now.” Because I can’t leave my heart open for her to rip out later. If I belong to her, then I do, and nothing will stand in our way.

She sits up on her knees and inches closer to me. Giving me my answer, she lets her warm, smooth fingers caress my cheek. “What’s the dragon for?”

I tunnel my hand through her hair, enjoying the silky rain, and I take a deep breath. She’s chosen me. Rachel’s decided to love me beyond the sharp edges. I have no idea what I’ve done to deserve her. “The dragon’s for the only good foster father I had. He’s the one who taught me everything about cars. He used to call me a dragon.”

Her forehead furrows. “Why?”

I smirk and the memory lightens my mood. “Because he said I was either breathing fire and destroying everything or I took the fire inside of me and created life.”

“Created life?”

“Fire can destroy, but it can also create—provide warmth, protection.” I still remember him explaining when I asked the same question. “He told me until I chose my path, I would always be capable of life and destruction.”

“Did you choose?” She weaves her arms around my neck.

My hands melt into the indentation of her waist as I wonder how far we should go tonight. Rachel takes my bottom lip between hers, and the kindling bursts into flames.

“I don’t think it’s up to me,” I answer. “My path chooses me.”

“You’ve chosen, Isaiah.” She kisses the side of my neck. “You’re life.”

“I’m still destruction.”

“Not to me,” she whispers.

“How far?” I ask while I still have a voice. Cupping her face, I reclaim her lips and gently guide her body next to mine on the bed. Rachel’s tank rides up and my fingers explore the satin skin of her belly. There are so many places I long to go, so many places I crave to take her.

“I want to go further,” she whispers. When I skim the waistband of her pants, her breathing hitches.

Further. Damn, my entire body responds. I don’t miss the way her hand fidgets with the hem of her shirt. Scared I’ll spook her, I don’t push her too far, but I’m all for reading body language. I place my hand over hers and her smile appears.

“You sure?” I ask.

She nods and her hand falls away. I lower my head as I slowly edge the material of her tank off her stomach. Jesus, her stomach is gorgeous. Flat and smooth. As my lips press the spot above her belly button I confirm how undeniably sweet Rachel is.

I kiss each and every centimeter of her exposed skin as I move up her tank. I linger over the material of her bra and Rachel fists the sheet with both hands. She’s so damn hot I’m about to forget slow and go for fast.

But I ignore those urges and guide the material up and over her head. I don’t know what the hell I did to have such a beautiful creature in my bed, but she’s here and I’m going to spend tonight worshipping this gift in front of me.

I roll my body over Rachel’s, and her legs tangle with mine. Elvis’s deep voice drifts from the apartment below. He sings about wise men and fools who rush in. I know as I hold Rachel in my arms that I, too, had no choice in falling in love.

We become lost in kisses, warm bare skin and touches. I move, and this time Rachel moves along with me. There’s a building, a sweet pressure. It’s as if we’re not even two separate people anymore, but one.

Hands are everywhere. Kisses on the lips, the neck and shoulders. I move faster and Rachel keeps the pace as her thighs press against my hips, bringing me closer.

Right as my world is about to be pushed over the edge, Rachel grasps on to my body and calls out my name. I wrap my arms around her, holding on as if I’m saving myself from dying. My body jerks, and behind my closed lids there are bright colors. I inhale, and it’s the scent of jasmine and when I open my eyes, I see an angel.

“I love you,” Rachel whispers, and her eyelids flutter with the delicious exhaustion.

I slip to the side and gather her into my arms. I want Rachel here every night for the rest of my life. It’s what feels right, what feels natural. “I love you.”

“I’m tired,” she yawns.

“Sleep, angel.” I rub my hand up her spine and revel in the feel of her body pressed tight to me. “Sleep.”