Текст книги "Crash into You"

Автор книги: Katie McGarry

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 27 страниц)

Chapter 22

Rachel

WORTHINGTON PRIVATE HAS A HUGE parking lot, and because of the sheer number of students that own cars, the administration permits overflow parking near the football stadium. This is where I park every morning—a few feet from the ticket booth. My brothers, on the other hand, who drive separately because of their millions of after-school activities, park as close as they can to the front doors without a handicap sticker.

By parking here, I don’t have to worry about some idiot with a driver’s permit hitting my car or some overzealous door opener scratching my paint. I can also sit by myself without people gawking at the lone Young sibling who doesn’t have their act together.

The last number on the clock radio changes and my mouth dries out. Today’s going to be awful. I grab my backpack off the passenger seat, slide out the door and shiver against the January air. The first rays of dawn glimmer against the frost on the grass.

The pressure inside me feels like an elevator filled with sludge slowly rising to the top floor. The doors are begging to be opened so everything can spill out.

Jack and Gavin have been relentless about me helping Mom with the charity. Dad reminded me this morning that my answer is due to him this afternoon and said he knew I’d make the right decision. The overpowering combination of my two oldest brothers’ pressure and West and Ethan urging me to accept Dad’s offer edges me toward insanity. All of it is a perfect recipe for a panic attack, and I can’t have another one with Ethan watching me like a hawk.

“Rachel Young,” says a voice behind me.

I don’t know this voice. Scanning the overflow lot, I realize how alone I am. Rays of the sun peek around the school, but darkness still owns most of the sky. I slowly turn and suck in a breath when I recognize a face I never thought I would see again. It’s the guy from the drag race. The one that scared me. It’s Eric.

A flood of adrenaline flows through my body. For some, adrenaline makes them stronger and sharpens their reactions. The rush causes me to freeze. I consider screaming, but even if I regained control of the muscles in my throat, would anyone hear me? From the main parking lot, bass lines pound from several expensive cars with even more expensive sound systems.

It’s frightening seeing Eric. At the drag race he fit in, but here, among guys who wear white shirts and ties to school, he looks...terrifying. He’s tall, blond, and his body is more bones than muscle, like this skinny man I saw once in a drug prevention video. My heart quickens its pace. Why is he here? How does he know my name?

“Rachel Young,” he says again. “You have something of mine.”

My head shakes back and forth and then I wonder if it’s my body shaking. “I don’t have anything of yours.”

He tips a hand to his ear. “What was that? I didn’t hear you. You should speak up.”

The smile on his face says he’s mocking me, but I don’t know why. I’ve done nothing to him.

Eric invades my personal space and I beg my feet to move. Instead, I become stone embedded in the ground. My breath comes out faster and I can’t draw in enough air to compensate for the loss. He reaches in my direction and touches my hair. His hand is ashy, cracked in spots, and I want so badly for him to disappear.

“You’re pretty,” he says. My gold hair falls from his fingers like rain. “And you played the innocent act well. I bought it then, but I won’t buy it now. Give me my fucking money or I’ll have my boys put you in the hospital.”

My voice trembles. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit!” he snaps. His anger gives me the courage to stumble back.

He advances on me with his hand waving in the air. “The cops can’t touch me. Your parents can’t touch me. But I can touch you. The only thing that will stop that from happening is if you give me my money.”

The world spins and all the thoughts in my head jumble together. I can’t breathe. I can’t. Instinctively, my arms wrap around my stomach as I sway.

Rough hands grab my face and all I see are eyes with no soul. “Hell no. You’re not going down. Give me my money or tell me where it is.”

My stomach lurches and a high-pitched buzzing washes away his voice. I can’t think. I can’t breathe. Eric tightens his hold on my chin, creating pain, making me unable to open my mouth for air. He’s going to crush my skull.

My airways no longer work. Small lights flutter in the periphery, and Eric’s mouth moves as if he’s yelling. I can’t hear him over the loud humming in my head. I close my eyes. A hand clamps on my shoulder and shakes me as if I’m a doll. The buzzing shifts into roaring.

The pressure on my chin, on my shoulder, disappears—leaving me floating in nothing until gravity forces me to the ground. I crumple—gasping. I convulse with the dry heaves. Blood pounds at every pressure point. I retch forward and place my hands on the cold blacktop to keep my face from hitting the loose rocks.

I suck in air and the sound is a wheeze. I draw air in again, lift my head, and through disoriented tunnel vision I spot a shadow throwing Eric against my car. Someone has come for me. A savior.

He turns and I know those eyes. Isaiah. “Rachel!”

I sit back on my knees and waver when a fresh flash of dizziness disorients me.

With a fist curled into the material of Eric’s coat and an arm shoved into his windpipe, Isaiah slams Eric into my car. “What the fuck did you do to her?”

Eric speaks as if he, too, is having trouble breathing. “Make your move, my brother. But if you do, you better kill me because you will not like my retaliation.”

Lifetimes stretch as Isaiah stares into Eric’s eyes. With a final push, Isaiah releases him. “Stay away from her.”

Eric smooths out his shirt and readjusts his coat. He leans into Isaiah. “I am not your enemy. That girl—” he points at me “—stole what’s mine. Stop thinking with your dick and get your head in the game. That was your money, too.”

The staring continues and Eric glances away first. Isaiah rounds on me, and I fall back onto my bottom in terror. This isn’t the guy who protected me in the bar and kissed me in his apartment. Like a thundercloud racing across the sky, he’s massive, strong, and he’s moving my way. The muscles in his arms ripple as he stalks.

My breath continues to pump in and out in shallow intervals. Isaiah crouches next to me. His eyes a gray storm; his expression cold, flat. “Rachel.”

I don’t remember his voice sounding gruff. I don’t remember him being this frightening.

He lifts his hand and hesitates when I shudder. His lips press together in a line. “He will pay for touching you.”

Several feet behind Isaiah, Eric calls out, “Whenever you’re ready to discuss this situation, I’ll be standing right here.”

My eyes dart behind Isaiah’s shoulder, but Isaiah shifts so that he fills my line of sight. “I’ve got you, Rachel. You need to trust me.”

Trust him. His eyes soften to liquid silver, and for the first time I can inhale a lungful of air. And I smell him: his calming scent of spices. Isaiah did scare me before—when I first met him, but then he saved me, like he’s doing now.

I nod and Isaiah caresses my cheek. His fingers are warm against my freezing skin.

“I need you strong, okay?” he whispers. “Eric thrives off of weakness. I need you to stand and let me handle this.”

I lick my dry lips and test my voice. “He said I have his money.” He said he’s going to hurt me. “I don’t understand.”

Isaiah places his finger over my lips. My heart stutters. It’s a calming touch, yet equally strong. “I know. I’ll fix everything.”

He didn’t call. It’s what I want to say, but for now, I accept Isaiah’s offered hand and rise on trembling legs.

Isaiah partially obstructs Eric’s view of me and crosses his arms over his chest. I let the fingers of my right hand rest on his left shoulder blade. Isaiah peeks at me and tilts his head to let me know that my touch is welcomed. I exhale in relief. I need this connection. I need his strength.

“You want to talk, Eric,” says Isaiah. “Let’s talk.”

In a sloppy posture, Eric leans to the left with his hands in his jeans pockets. “Her boys fingered her yesterday. They said she was involved in the robbery and that she has my money.”

I open my mouth to protest, but a glare from Isaiah instills silence. “Those weren’t her boys and she wasn’t involved.”

“She showed with them.”

“And they abandoned her when the cops came. Rachel and I had to fly through the back alleys to keep from getting caught. She stuck her neck out for me. I owe her a debt.”

That obviously wasn’t news Eric was prepared to hear. He scratches his jaw. “You owe her a debt?”

“Yes,” says Isaiah simply.

A wan smile slants Eric’s lips. “You never owe people.”

Becoming a statue, Isaiah says nothing in return. My fingers relax so that my palm connects with his back. Even through his shirt, my hand soaks in his warmth and energy. I focus on the steady movement of his breathing. In...and out. In...and out. A rhythm that shows no fear.

“They stole five thousand dollars from me,” says Eric. “And I want it back. I don’t care who pays for it or how. No one steals from me, and that message needs to be public.”

“Send a message all you want, but leave Rachel out of it.”

Eric advances on Isaiah. Isaiah never moves as Eric shoves a finger in his face. “She showed with them, and they made me look like a fool! No one makes me look like a fool!”

The finger slowly descends, but Eric stays in Isaiah’s face. Isaiah’s expression never changes: one long, continuous stone-cold glare. “No one looks at you as a fool. Everyone on the street has heard how you put those college boys in the hospital. No one doubts your strength.”

“It’s not enough,” Eric snarls.

“I think tire irons and baseball bats against skin is convincing to everyone.”

Eric backs away from Isaiah and glances at me. “Is she yours?”

Isaiah remains silent.

Eric slides to the side, acting as if he’ll skirt around Isaiah in order to be close to me, but he halts the moment Isaiah speaks. “Go near her and you’ll join those boys in the hospital.”

Dangerous—both of them are. But Isaiah would scare me more if he wasn’t protecting me. My eyes dart between them. The two males before me are barely civilized animals fighting for dominance and control.

Eric regards Isaiah. “She showed with them so people think she was involved. If I don’t act on her then people will believe that I have a weakness. She won’t go unpunished. If she gives me my money, I’ll wipe her slate clean. My decision is made. Short of killing me, Isaiah, you aren’t changing my mind.”

“If she doesn’t pay?” asks Isaiah.

Eric flashes a smile full of teeth. “She is pretty.”

I swallow a dry heave and slap a hand over my mouth.

A muscle in Isaiah’s jaw tics. “I’ll take on her debt.”

Chapter 23

Isaiah

MY STOMACH BOTTOMS OUT WITH the last words I said: I’ll take on her debt. Five thousand dollars or Eric will own me for life. Hell, with those words, he owns me now.

I risk breaking eye contact with Eric for a brief second to observe my surroundings. His threat to me earlier, that I either kill him or walk away, indicated he wasn’t alone. Sure enough, back in the main parking lot, two of his most trusted guards watch.

Eric laughs, yet I find nothing funny. “Isn’t this a strange turn of events. Isaiah Walker, the guy who owes nobody nothing, takes on a debt for a girl.”

“Isaiah?”

I close my eyes at the sound of my name from Rachel’s mouth. She wants reassurance, and I can’t console her. Not with Eric inspecting my every movement. He already knows I care about Rachel, and that’s bad for both of us. She just became a liability.

I try to repress any thoughts of Rachel: her beauty, her kindness, how frightened she was when I found her. Emotions are evil. Ice water needs to flow in my veins. “No girl should face your wrath.”

“Yeah,” Eric says in mock disbelief. “You’re selling yourself to me so I won’t hit a girl. Sell your shit someplace else.”

This situation hovers between dangerous and deadly. Eric will use her against me if he realizes Rachel’s more than someone I owe. He’ll keep me as a dog on a chain, wielding her as a weapon. I can’t do that to myself. Dammit. I can’t do that to her. Because, God help us both, I do care. “She means nothing. I owe her a debt for saving me, and like you said yourself, I don’t owe debts.”

Her hand drops from my back and I hear her sharp intake of air. Eric’s observant eyes catch her reaction, and he’s discovered a new person to toy with. “So she was a fuck.”

I’ve had enough of this. “When’s the money due?”

“Now.”

Even if Rachel did have five thousand dollars, which I doubt, she wouldn’t have it in her pocket. “I need longer.”

Eric rolls one shoulder as if we’re debating the cost of an item at a yard sale instead of my life and her safety. “Because I’ve always liked you, two weeks.”

“Eight.”

“Six. And if she doesn’t pay I take her car and I own you. Are we clear?”

Crystal. Because, for Eric and his crew, the beating is the payment. The taking of the car is for kicks. “No one touches her, Eric.”

Having accomplished what he came for, Eric pulls his keys out of his pocket and strolls toward the main parking lot. “As long as someone pays. But if you don’t...” He looks over his shoulder and slides his eyes over Rachel. My fingers curl with the thoughts of strangling him. “For you, pretty girl, I promise there won’t be baseball bats involved.”

I watch him until he drives off, then examine Rachel. She’s so beautiful it hurts. Golden blond hair flows past her shoulders. Those gorgeous violet eyes shouldn’t be so wide with fear. I’ve dreamed of being this close to her again. I ache to gather her in my arms and keep her safe from the world...to be her protector, but I can’t be that man.

“You okay?” I ask.

Rachel moves her head as a yes, but the answer’s no. After being touched by Eric, how can she be fine? I run my hand over my head. Just fuck. “Get in the car.”

Rachel fidgets with the oversize buttons on her black coat, then readjusts her skirt, drawing my attention to her bare legs. Her warm breaths billow out into the air as white fog. “I’m late for school.”

So am I. “You and I need to skip today.”

It’s difficult to discern her head shaking no as her body shudders from the cold. “My parents will kill me.”

I rub my eyes with both hands. “Eric will actually kill us both. My car—now.”

Without looking at me, Rachel retrieves her backpack and heads to the passenger side of my black Mustang. The driver’s side door hangs open and the engine still purrs. When I cut into the overflow lot, I saw his hands on her and my whole world went red.

She slams her door shut before I have a chance to go around and close it for her. I don’t want her to hate me. I don’t want her to fear me. But she witnessed who I really am, and now there’s no avoiding reality.

I slide into my seat and put my car into First. “Can your brother cover for you at school?”

“Yeah,” she barely whispers. “Maybe.” Rachel pulls a phone out of her pack. The screen brightens as she powers it on, and I notice her go completely still. “You called.”

A lot. Every half hour since Abby told me that Eric had found her. “You didn’t answer.”

“I turned my phone off.” An edge of hurt creeps into her tone. I want to reassure her that we’ll be okay. But I shouldn’t.

Rachel types into her cell. We drive in silence as she stares at the phone, possibly waiting for a reply. It chirps and she sighs with relief. “My twin, Ethan, says he’ll cover for me, but he wants to know why I’m ditching.”

Tell him I’m saving your life. I shift gears as I hit the freeway heading downtown. There’s only one place I can think to take her to guarantee her safety.

“Where are we going?” she asks.

I tug at my bottom loop earring. “To the police station.”

Her hair flies as she whips her head to face me. “To the... Where? No!” she screeches. “No. We can’t go there.”

Time to be honest with her. “We aren’t. You are. It’s the only way.”

One of her hands grips the edge of her seat. The other holds on to the door. The knuckles on both her hands fade to white. “There has to be another way. The police will call my parents.”

“Better grounded than in the hospital,” I mutter.

“Isaiah...”

I cut her off. “Do you have five thousand dollars?”

“No,” she says quickly.

“Do you own the papers to your car?”

She shakes her head this time.

“Look.” I force calm even though everything inside me writhes in rage. I want to fix this. Dammit, I want to fix us. “Go to the police. Tell them you made a mistake and street raced once. Tell them that the guy who took the bets threatened you if you don’t race for him again. And for Christ’s sake, don’t name names. Tell them you never learned anyone’s name. Tell them you were scared to death.”

We breeze by a row of tractor trailers, and I press harder on the gas. We’re cruising at seventy. My eyes narrow on the road. I itch to hit eighty and then ninety. I crave speed.

Her hands flutter in the air, signaling impending hysterics. “What will that accomplish, besides upsetting my parents?”

I shift down and reluctantly reduce my speed when I spot the exit. “The police have been after Eric for a year. They know who he is and what he’s capable of. The moment you say drag racing and threatened, they’ll put the pieces together. They’ll protect you in ways I can’t.”

She draws in several quick breaths. “He threatened you, too. Why aren’t you going to come with me?”

I flex my fingers then grip the wheel again. “Because I’m not a snitch.”

Rachel straightens in her seat and the spark of attitude that I remember from the night we met flashes. “And I am?”

Off the freeway, I turn the wheel sharply to the left, coast into an abandoned parking lot and cut the engine. “You don’t have to live by the rules I live by. Those streets you played in one time are my home. I don’t get to go back to a gated community when I decide I’m done slumming. You street raced and you got burned. I’m trying to make sure you don’t die from your mistakes. So what if you don’t get to go to a dance because you’re grounded. You’ll be safe.”

Her eyes brim with tears. “You don’t understand. This will crush my mom. It’s my job to make everything in her life all right. She can’t know. This would destroy her.”

“Dammit, Rachel,” I yell. “You can’t be this fucking dense!”

Her door opens and she darts out of the car. I slam my hand on the steering wheel and bolt after her. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“School!” she shouts. With one foot in front of the other, she heads across the lot—in the wrong direction.

“Get back in the fucking car!”

“No! I’ll figure this out. It’s not your debt, it’s mine. Leave me alone!”

I stalk after her, grab her arm and swing her around. My face lowers to her. “Do you think this is a game? Do you think that you can ignore this and it will go away? It won’t, Rachel. He knows who you are and where you go to school. Eric will never stop tracking you until he gets what he wants.”

“Stop swearing at me!” Her entire body trembles. Back is the terrified girl from the bar after she got pegged by the beer. Maybe her life is more complicated than I thought.

Rachel jerks her arm in a pathetic attempt at freedom, but I hold tight. She has to understand the dangers of this situation.

“Take your hands off of me,” she yells. “No, I don’t live near you, but that doesn’t make me stupid. He threatened me. Not you. You want me to go the police and I can’t. I’ll do this on my own.”

On her own? She’ll get herself killed, and that’ll take my already-serious problems with Eric into the realm of lethal. If he hurts her, he’ll die. And then his boys will hunt me like a dog and take me down. My goal is to get us the fuck out of this situation without all that Romeo and Juliet bullshit.

Both of my hands slide up to her shoulders. “Do you know what some of the gangs in town do for initiation?”

“What?” The hysteria leaves for a second as she tries to understand my question.

“They have to rape someone.”

Her eyes study my face. “What does that have to do with Eric? With me?”

I hesitate, the words frozen on my tongue. His boys could rape you, Rachel. I brought this up on purpose—so that she’ll understand the lethal reality of Eric. To push her away from me, toward the cops. But the innocence and terror in her eyes stop me. Is it possible to spook an angel to death?

I should resist, but it’s like I’m physically drawn to her. I loosen my grip and allow one hand to caress her cheek. Her skin burns under my touch. “You’re in danger, and without five thousand dollars, I can’t protect you from my world.”

Beneath me, Rachel’s body crumples in defeat. She sways, and I wrap an arm around her to keep her from collapsing.

“We’ll give him my car,” she whispers. “It’s worth three times that amount.”

My thumb traces the path of her cheekbone. I’ve missed her. I’ll miss her again when she sees I’m right about the police. “If Eric wanted your car, he would have taken your car.”

“But he said...” she starts with a mixture of exhaustion and frustration.

She’s searching for hope, and I have none to offer. There’s no pot at the end of the rainbow. No spell that will undo what’s been done. This isn’t a fairy tale, but a nightmare. “He said he’d take your car if you don’t pay the debt. He meant after he beats the life out of me and—” rapes “—hurts you. This isn’t about the money. This is about control.”

Her body presses against my arm for release, and I let her go. She stumbles back and I silently curse myself. I gave her the truth, but it’s a truth a girl like her should’ve never heard. Her chest moves rapidly, and she claws at the material of her sweater as if she’s choking. I understand. With each passing second, I feel the noose Eric placed on me tightening.

Rachel’s lower lip quivers and the words tumble out. “I can’t go to the police.” Her eyes snap shut and the way she fights to keep tears from falling rips me in half. “My family will hate me and I’ll destroy her. Making her happy is the only reason I’m alive.”

Her words make no sense, but the pure agony underlying her tone tells me she means them. She yanks again at her sweater, threatening to tear it. “Why is this happening?”

It doesn’t matter why. It’s happening. I close the distance between us and fold her smaller body into mine. She fights me at first—her fists knock against my chest. Each swipe stings, but it’s nothing like the hurt beating at me because of her pain. Eventually, she stops hitting and rests her forehead on my chest. Her body quakes with sobs.

“What am I going to do?” she whispers.

I kiss the top of her head. The early-morning sun warms her hair and I linger so I can inhale the delicious scent of jasmine mixed with salty waves. I gave her up once and touching her like this again... I refuse to abandon her again. She needs me.

“I’ll fix this.” I have no idea how, but I can’t stomach her tears. “Give me twenty-four hours and I’ll have a way to fix this.”