Crash into You (Pushing the Limits #3)

Crash into You (Pushing the Limits #3) Page 38

“Everything I’ve known has always been twisted,” I say. “I don’t want to twist you. I don’t want you to slip into my world and leave everything that’s good about you behind.”

“Isaiah, look at me.”

I do. If only because there’s a power in her voice I haven’t heard since she told me to back off her car the first night we met. “The only way you’d twist me is if you left. You’re a great guy, and someday, I’m going to make you see it.”

Rachel has hit too close, and I lean away and flip the keys in my hand. “Do you need to go home before the races tonight?”

She fiddles with the cuff of her coat, not meeting my eyes. It bothers me that I hurt her by pulling away.

“No. Dad’s traveling. Mom’s with the foundation, and West and Ethan have plans, but they said they’d cover for me if I wanted to drive tonight.”

“We’ll celebrate tonight when we win.” I force the cheer, hoping it’ll bring that spark back in her eye. “I’ll take you someplace special.” Someplace I’ve never invited a girl before.

She scrunches her face. “You’re always sure of yourself.”

“Yeah, I am. When I say I’m going to do something I do it.” My word is the only thing I truly own.

“So...where’s your special place?”

“Patience,” I tell her as I open the door. “You need some patience.”

Chapter 48

Rachel

WE WON AGAIN TONIGHT, MORE than we lost, and because of that, Isaiah is taking me to his special place to celebrate. Logan and Isaiah didn’t win as much as the weekend before, but Isaiah promised we’d have enough time to make the money needed to pay off the debt.

The debt. Eric. A shudder runs along my spine and I repress any thought of my nightmares.

It’s been a long day: skipping, Isaiah meeting his mom, spending the evening at the dragway and now this. According to Isaiah’s radio, it’s 12:01 which means today is Saturday. I’m pressing my luck being gone so late, but Ethan said he’d cover for me, so he will.

I watch in the side mirror as Isaiah heaves an aging wooden barricade back over the abandoned road. The forest is thick around us, and I can only see a few feet into the black night. Goose bumps form on my arms, and I run my hands along them in order to ease the chill the shadows create.

The interior light springs on when Isaiah slips back into the car then fades just as quickly as he shuts the door.

“You okay?” he asks.

I nod, but wonder if he misses it in the darkness. Fear of the unknown pushes me to a make-believe edge in my mind and I have to breathe in deeply several times to keep from falling off the ledge. Each time I inhale, Isaiah’s scent fills my nose and I’m reminded that whatever happens, wherever he’s taking me, I’m safe.

Isaiah would never let anything happen to me.

The engine growls as Isaiah presses on the gas. It’s an upward path, curving continually higher. Through sporadic breaks in the trees, I can spot lights below us, and because of Isaiah’s speed, they appear like fireflies dancing in the night.

It’s only then when I realize where we are and what we’re doing. “This is Lovers’ Leap.”

Isaiah’s only answer is the minuscule tilt of his lips. I sit up and my hands press against the dashboard of the car as I try to catch a glimpse of the rocky cliff that has become urban legend from the front windshield. I’ve seen this place safely on the ground as I’ve passed it by on the freeway. My eyes, like everyone else’s, driven to the sky to ogle the place where people years ago drove off a cliff in a drag race and died.

There’s just something magnetic and curious about the morbid.

But as Isaiah races around the bends of the road, I lose the sense of somber and replace it with curiosity. “Is it scary?”

“No.”

The fir trees and climbing oaks grow so close together and near the road they appear to smother each other until a clearing appears. Isaiah shifts down and eases to a stop. With a flick of his wrist, he turns off the ignition and has the keys in his hands. “Come on.”

Isaiah’s out of the car and around the front to my side before I can slide from the seat. In a slick movement, he closes my door, links our hands together and nudges me ahead. I glance over my shoulder at the thick forest behind me and shiver at what lies in wait there, but Isaiah has no interest in what we’ve already seen. His eyes and body are pointed forward.

“What do you think?” he asks.

My breath catches in my throat when I see the splendor panning before me. Thousands of tiny lights twinkle all around the ground below and in the middle of the panoramic view the skyscrapers of Louisville soar into the air. “It’s gorgeous.”

“Yeah.” But he’s not looking at the view, but at me. I bite my lip and look away.

“So, am I the really the first one you’ve brought here?”

“Abby’s been here, but I didn’t bring her. She follows.” Isaiah lets go of my hand and jumps onto the only thing separating the two of us from a drop of death—a crumbling stone wall.

My heart smashes past my rib cage. “Be careful!”

“It’s safe.” Isaiah holds his hand out to me. “I won’t let you fall.”

My eyes drift to the dark hole on the other side of the wall. From the ground, the drop looked staggering, but Isaiah said he wouldn’t let me fall and from the sincerity leaking from his face, he means it more than he means anything else.

As if in a tunnel, I outstretch my arm, and just as my fingers hover over his, my cell pings. Isaiah’s eyebrows draw together and my blood flow halts. We both know it has to be Ethan.

Isaiah jumps down and I pull the cell out of my pocket. With one touch, the phone lights up.

Ethan: you need to come home.

My pulse quickens. Have I been busted? why?

Isaiah shifts beside me, but remains patient. He knows my twin typically leaves me alone and that a text from him can mean problems. The seconds stretch into an eternity: come home

Me: what’s the problem?

Ethan: I think you’re lying to me. I don’t think you’re driving.

The entire world sways to the right, then to the left, before refocusing. What does Ethan know? From behind me, Isaiah wraps his arms around my waist, engulfing me in the warmth and strength of his body. “What’s wrong, angel?”

“I don’t know.”

Me: you’re paranoid

Ethan: r u with the guy you skipped school with?

Adrenaline shoots down my arms and into my fingers as I break out of Isaiah’s embrace and press buttons on the phone.

“Rachel?” Isaiah’s eyes become storm clouds as he watches me raise my cell to my ear. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” I glance at the beautiful skyline. Isaiah brought me here to celebrate his and Logan’s wins tonight at the dragway and to celebrate his passing of the ASE. This glorious overlook is Isaiah’s special place, a place he’s never brought anyone else. This moment was huge and Ethan is ruining it.

Ethan answers on the first ring. “Come home, Rachel.”

Fire rages inside of me as the voice sinks in. It’s not Ethan—it’s West. “Give the phone to Ethan.”

“No,” says West. “You two have that screwed-up twin thing, and he’ll cover for you.”

Yes, he will. “This is between me and Ethan. Not me and you. He covers for me. I cover for him. And in case you never noticed, both of us have been covering for you for years.”

I hear shifting, a button hit wrong on the phone, then static. “Rachel,” says Ethan. My head drops. They put me on speaker. “Come home.”

“We had a deal!” I kick at a rock and it skips into the brush. “Twin amnesty, remember? How can you sell me out?”

“We had amnesty when I thought you were going for a drive.” There’s an unfamiliar edge to Ethan’s voice. The same tone Dad used on West when West was caught fighting at school. “Guess what we just heard about at a party? Something about you skipping school with some punk in a black Mustang. I told them they were crazy and then they showed me the damned picture on their cell phone. I’m going to say this one more time. Get home, Rachel, and get home now.”

I could crush brick with the amount of anger seething in me. “Both of you are such hypocrites!”

“Don’t want to hear it,” says Ethan. “It’s like we don’t even know who you are anymore. Running around with some punk, ditching school, lying to us about the panic attacks....”

Something cracks inside of me. A dam I had created over the years to hold in every emotion unwanted by my family. “You want me to lie about the panic attacks, remember? Anything to keep Mom happy!”

On their side, the phone rattles as if someone grabbed it. West lets loose a string of profanities. “Rachel!” he shouts. “Here’s the truth, baby sister, you need someone to take care of you. You always have. It’s our job to keep you from making bad decisions and the one you’re making right now is colossal. Your track record proves you need Ethan and me making these decisions for you.”

I end the call, throw the phone across the crumbled blacktop and shriek at the top of my lungs. West’s words roll in my mind. You need someone to take care of you. You always have.

“It’s not true!” I yell out into the night. “It’s not.” Tears burn my eyes.

The warm touch first slides against my hip, followed by a brush on my cheek. My bones become weary, almost too heavy for my skin. Isaiah heard the conversation. He heard me admit my weakness. I said out loud, in front of him, that I suffer from panic attacks.

“Are you in trouble at home?” The urgency in his tone is clear.

I nod, then shake my head. “With my brothers.”

“Are they going to rat?”

I tremble at the malice in his tone. “I don’t think so. Somebody saw me skip with you. This is bad. So bad. Without them covering for me, I can’t make it out. And if I can’t make it out then you can’t drive my car.”

And I can’t see you.

It’s like I’ve been sucked into a tornado and I’m a rag doll being torn apart. My thoughts all twist and my body begins to feel cold and warm all at the same time. “And if you can’t drive my car then you can’t race and we can’t make money if you don’t race and then there’s Eric—”

“It’s okay.” Isaiah cups my head and guides me into his chest. His lips graze my forehead as he whispers, “It’s okay. Calm down. It’s okay. I promise.”

I don’t know what to say, and as hard as I try to keep from crying, more tears fill my eyes. I suck in air and each inhale shakes. I sniff and I sniff, but none of my efforts keeps the chaos on the inside from trying to break free to the outside. “I don’t know how to make my family like you.”

“I don’t care if they like me. I only care about you.” Isaiah soothingly rubs my spine and hair.