Crash into You (Pushing the Limits #3)

Crash into You (Pushing the Limits #3) Page 47
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Crash into You (Pushing the Limits #3) Page 47

“Give me a reason why I shouldn’t kick your ass,” says Noah. “What were you thinking?”

“Damn, Noah,” says Beth from behind me. “He already has stitches.”

Beth and I used to gang up against Noah all the time. She’s right about us. We were friends first. Always friends. Not understanding a relationship that close, it got muddled.

She flashes a genuine smile and I smile back. Yeah, Beth and I, we can do friends. A few feet behind her and hanging with what I assume is Logan’s entire baseball team, Beth’s guy, Ryan, watches us with his arms folded over his chest. I tip my chin at him to let him know I’m good, and he tilts his head in acceptance. That’ll probably be the longest conversation the two of us ever have.

Noah leans into us so that we form our own circle. “Do you know what he’s been doing?”

Beth shrugs. “He’s always liked to drive fast. Stupidity caught up.”

“Stupidity did catch up, but not in that way.” Noah’s dark eyes snap to mine and he rolls his shoulders back. He’s looking for a fight and my body reacts. My head continues to throb like a bad bass line, but if Noah wants to have it out, we will.

“Say what you gotta say, Noah.”

“Whoa.” Beth places an arm between us. “He just got out of the hospital. This is the first time I’ve been with the two of you in months. You are not ruining this for me by fighting.”

Noah and I stand toe to toe and neither one of us flinch. “Do you want to tell her, Isaiah?”

“Naw, man. It sounds like you’ve got all the answers.”

Keeping his eyes locked on me, Noah drops the bomb. “He owes money to Eric.”

The silence between the three of us builds pressure in my neck.

“How much,” asks Beth in a low tone.

“Enough,” I answer. Too much.

“Why?” she demands. “Why did you street race?”

Noah finally looks away. “Because I told him I was moving into the dorms.”

“Noah!” Beth grabs hold of the arm of his jacket. “What the hell? You promised both of us a year ago that you would never leave us behind.”

“Why are you here?” Noah asks Beth. “You promised you’d stay away from Louisville.”

Beth’s head tilts in her familiar pissed-off way. “Logan’s my friend. So is Isaiah. Explain why you’re bailing on us? You break a promise to him, you break it to me.”

“I kept my promise to you,” says Noah. “Who do you think told Shirley to call your uncle when you got arrested last fall? Do you think the lush figured it out on her own? I reminded her that your Uncle Scott had money and would be able to help with bail. As for Isaiah, I can’t help him if he owes people like Eric.”

Beth pales. “You...you did that to me?”

Noah lowers himself to stare into her eyes. “Don’t stand there acting like I ratted you out. You’re better off and you know it. You’re happy. You’ve told me that yourself.”

Beth clenches her hands together. “But it should have been my choice.”

“Beth...you never saw your choices.” And his eyes flash to me. “And neither do you.”

I gesture with palms open. “Show me my rich uncle, Noah, and I’m game. Wait...my bad...out of the three of us, I’m the only trash here.”

Noah shoves a finger into my chest, daring me into a physical confrontation. “You’re so bent on believing what you want people to see that you forget that you’re more. Keep saying it. Keep saying you’re trash and take the fucking swing at me, but if you do, know I’m hitting back.”

My head is so close to Noah’s that I feel the heat of his anger, or maybe it’s mine.

“You want to fight, man?” I ask. “Is that what you want?”

“No, bro. But I do want to kick some sense into your head.”

Around us, several guys leap to their feet, calling at us to back down. Most of them wear jock jackets like Logan’s. One has the balls to touch me. Ryan, Beth’s guy, has the balls to touch Noah. “Bring it down a notch.”

Beth smacks Ryan’s arm. “Let him go, Ryan.” She turns to the one with his arm on me. “You, too, Chris. This is how the two of them communicate.”

Ryan yanks on the bill of his baseball cap. “This is a fight, Beth.”

She rolls her eyes. “It’s a family reunion. A fucked-up one, but how else would we do it.”

Noah cracks his crazy-ass grin with her words and chuckles. I pop the tension out of my neck, and Noah flexes his shoulders to relax. “You should have told me you had problems.”

I shrug. “I got problems.”

Noah pats my back. “Then we’ll figure it out.”

For the first time in a while, the pressure inside of me dips. “Thanks, man.”

The door to the emergency room opens. On crutches, Logan hobbles out of the E.R. with a man who must be his dad by his side. Some of the guys near us clap or yell out Logan’s name.

For the first time since waking up from the crash, I feel like I can take a lungful of air. Logan acknowledges his friends as he and his two poles maneuver through the mass of people. There’s no mistake that he’s making his way to me, Beth, Chris and Ryan.

Chris is the first to speak. “You’re a moron, Junior.”

Logan pops that insane grin. “But it was a hell of a rush.” He nods at me. “You okay?”

“Stitches.”

“Same with me.” He kicks out his right leg. “Twenty-four stitches on my thigh. Nothing broken.” Logan loses the spark. “I’m out for a bit.” He’s referring to helping with the money.

“It’s good,” I say. “Thanks, man.”

“Don’t thank me. You still have to fix my ’57 Chevy.”

Logan turns to Ryan and the pair embrace. Beth told me they’d been friends since elementary school. I can only imagine their bond. Beth wraps her arms around me. “Thanks for being my friend again.”

I hug her back. “No problem.”

“Hey, Isaiah,” says Logan. “Wasn’t that Rachel?”

Chapter 64

Rachel

ISAIAH HUGGED BETH.

Beth—the strong girl, the beautiful girl, the girl who twisted Isaiah in knots. He smiled at her. He hugged her. And they looked perfect together.

I’ve watched Abby and Isaiah for weeks, and never once has he touched her, much less hugged her. And Isaiah doesn’t smile easily. It’s a rare gift and he gave it to her. Our fight must have opened his eyes. The crash must have revealed his true feelings.

And his feelings aren’t for me.

I yank my keys out of my purse. They fall through my fingers and clank on the blacktop. Abby, I should go back for Abby, but I can’t stay. She went to pester a nurse for news on Logan and never returned. Isaiah can drive her home. Or Noah can. Or Beth.

All people who belong together. I don’t belong in their world. I’m weak. They’re strong.

Beth is strong.

I snatch the keys off the ground, and they clink together in my hands. I’m shaking, and it’s not because of the chill in the evening air. The guy I fell in love with never loved me. Never.

“Rachel!” Isaiah calls out.

I glance over my shoulder, gripping the keys tighter in my hand. My breathing hitches. I can’t do it. I can’t hear him say the words. Not with the memory of him holding her so fresh. Not with her probably observing through the glass door. A girl like her would enjoy watching me break.

My thoughts become a distorted mess, and my stomach hollows out as if I’ve been pushed over a ravine. I feel the sickening weightlessness like I’m falling, my arms flailing to stop.

I should run, but I’m paralyzed by the sight of him. Even moving slowly, Isaiah possesses the prowess of a panther. His muscles pronounced in the easy way he strides. The set, determined gaze on me as his prey. This only proves how weak I am. Like the animal on the verge of being devoured in the wild, I stand here stunned by his dangerous beauty.

Isaiah touches me. His warm palm to my face. A soft slide of his thumb. My body has memorized the motion. I lean into his hand and close my eyes. I’ll miss this. I’ll miss everything about him. A tear escapes and creates a wet trail down my face.

Isaiah has always been gentle, and he is again as he wipes it away. “Why did you leave?”

Hundreds of pounds of weight stack on top of my chest, restricting air. I open my eyes, not daring to meet his stare. “Are you okay?”

“Some stitches and bruises, but yeah, I’m fine.”

“And Logan?” I ask with as much strength as I can muster. I fight the tingling in my blood, a reaction to the shortage of oxygen. I have seconds before I lose control. Breathe.

“Stitches, too. But fine. Rachel, look at me.”

Because his hand on my cheek prods me to face him, because I’ve hardly ever been able to defy him when he speaks to me in such a deep, soothing voice...my eyes rise to meet his. Confusion and hurt swirl in a murky storm in his gray eyes. I’d do anything if that pain was for me, but it’s not. It can’t be.

I don’t want to hear his words, not yet, so I ask, “Your car?”

His head drops as he presses his hands to his face. “Totaled.”

Pain for him, pain for me, rips at my heart. Another tear escapes. The car was his—a part of his soul. The sorrow he must feel—there has to be a better word than mourning.

Yearning to touch him, longing to comfort him, my fingers instinctively brush against his temple. Isaiah takes my hand and knots our fingers together, squeezing a little too tight. “This is why I didn’t want the system in your car.”

We’re back to this—so easily. His words are a sandblaster against my soul, decimating my insides, crushing my bones, leaving me as a completely empty shell. “Because your car, your life, is worth less?”

“Yes,” he answers with stubborn resolve.

The hospital doors open, and Beth steps onto the sidewalk. My throat thickens, and the warning contortion of my stomach tells me my time is up. I yank my hand from his. “She’s waiting for you.”

He glances over his shoulder, and I take advantage by fleeing. Quickly. Turning into the maze of cars. Hoping to disappear. Words fly in my head—all related, yet not; all tangible, yet slipping through my fingers: Eric and debt and Isaiah and love and Beth and strength and weakness...

And my mother and my brothers and my father and Colleen...

All of us dominoes on a board where one event results in chaos. One tip of a piece and everything scatters. There’s no control. Like everyone else, I’m a piece to be overturned. I will never control my destiny.

My hand grabs at my coat, jerking it off as heat consumes me and chokes my neck. At the intersection of four parked cars, I fall to my knees and convulse with the first dry heave. Searing pain cuts through my throat and I become light-headed.

“Rachel!” Isaiah lifts me upright, wiping my hair from my face.

“No hospital.” They can’t know...they can’t know...they can’t... “Promise they won’t know....”

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