Crash into You (Pushing the Limits #3)

Crash into You (Pushing the Limits #3) Page 51

A tear escapes from the corner of my eye as I stare straight at my parents. “And it sure wasn’t fair to West, Ethan or me.”

My mother places a hand over her mouth, and a sickening pain strangles my gut when I realize I spoke every thought I’ve had since I can remember. My body shakes and I run a hand through my hair. What have I done?

A million eyes gawk at me. The back door to the room opens and I almost weep with relief: Isaiah.

Chapter 69

Isaiah

THE ENTIRE ROOM TURNS AND stares. There’s no doubt what they see—ripped jeans, a black T-shirt, tattoos and earrings. I don’t care what they see. All I care about is what she sees: a person unwelcomed or the guy she loves.

A tear flows down her face, and the hand wrapped at her waist tells me she’s paralyzed. In a long gold ball gown that’s more skirt than dress, Rachel is truly the angel I believe her to be. A man in a tuxedo stands. “Son, I think you have the wrong room.”

“No. I don’t.” I stride between the tables, keeping my eyes locked with hers. The closer I get, the more she straightens. Her hand falls from her stomach, and the tear clears from her face. Rachel gazes at me as if I’m a dream. I extend my hand, palm out. “I need help.”

Her blue eyes lose their glaze, and the hue of violet I love so much returns. “So do I.”

My fingers tighten around hers and I gesture to the parking lot. “Is your car here?”

She nods. “Good,” I say. “Because Zach will only race you in your Mustang.”

The smile she flashed to me the first night we met brightens her face. “Then let’s go.”

Chapter 70

Rachel

WITH MY HAND IN HIS, Isaiah sets a blinding speed and I match it. People stand, unsure what to do. Confused and rapid conversation erupts around us. I should be freaked by the way they stare at me, but instead, I get hit with an adrenaline rush and I feel—alive.

In the hallway, I’m desperate to keep pace, hoping to leave my family behind. I kick the heels off my feet, and Isaiah flashes a crazy grin. “Blacktop’s cold.”

“I can’t drive in heels. Besides, you can carry me.”

I love how he laughs.

“I’ll need clothes,” I say.

“Zach would pay double for you to race him in that.”

“I’m serious.”

“We’ll call Abby and Echo once we get in the car. They’ll find something.”

“Rachel!” my father yells from down the hallway and I stop cold. The blood drains from my body.

Isaiah rounds on me, concern clouding his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I need my keys.”

He yanks a key out of his pocket. “Had one made. In case you lost yours.”

“Rachel!” My father slows and warily eyes us as Isaiah moves in front of me.

“My father won’t hurt me,” I whisper to him.

“It’s not him,” he mutters. “It’s your asshole brothers I’ve got a problem with.”

Taking his hand, I step by his side. Isaiah shoots me an unsaid warning.

“Dad,” I say with a mixture of complete fear and courage. “This is Isaiah.”

Isaiah nods. My father gapes. Overall, the first introduction could have gone worse. One by one, my brothers join my father. Each one of them a different level of angry.

“What’s going on?” Dad asks.

I turn my back to my family. “Go get the car,” I whisper to him.

Isaiah glares at my brothers. “I won’t leave you here.”

“I’m going with you. Just do as I ask.”

As if it physically hurts him, Isaiah walks out the door. I inhale deeply, hoping I made the right decision as I confront my family. With wide eyes and a hand on her dress, Mom slowly joins my father. “Who was that, Rachel?”

“My boyfriend,” I say. “His name is Isaiah.”

My father’s skin becomes a strange shade of purple as he loosens his tie. “What you’ve done tonight...with that boy...and that speech...”

I cut him off. “I only did what you and Mom asked. You wanted me to talk about Colleen, and I did.”

His anger grows, as does the level of his voice. “That was an embarrassment!”

“It was the truth!” I scream.

My father blinks and my mother tilts her head. She peers at me as if looking at someone she’s never seen before. Maybe she is, because the person in front of them is me: the Rachel I’ve hidden for years. I grab Mom’s hands, squeezing, begging for her to see. “Look at me.”

“I am,” she says softly.

“Look at me!” I scream. “I’m not Colleen. I’m not even a bad replica. I’m Rachel. I hate purple and I hate malls and I hate shopping and I hate being a disappointment.”

“But you said you learned to like...” And she closes her mouth.

“Because you wanted to believe.” I snatch my hands away and point at my brothers. “At least look at them. Two of them want nothing more than for you to love them, and the other two spend their entire lives trying to be perfect. Meanwhile all of us are screwed-up.”

“Rachel.” My father’s tone drops to a mixture of sad and tired. “Not now.”

“Why not now?” My skirt swirls as I face him. “Have you ever thought that you created this? If you had given Mom an ounce of respect and treated her as an equal instead of like a child, that she would have found a way to get over her grief?”

Mom’s eyes flit between me and Dad. “What is she talking about?”

I glare at Gavin, waiting for him to confess. Instead he lowers his head and leans his back against the wall. Disgusted, I stare at Mom. “They do the same thing to me that they do to you—protect. But I don’t need their protection. I’m strong and I have a feeling you’re strong, too.”

“She still has panic attacks,” says West. “I know you think you’re strong on your own, Rach, but you need us.”

My heart hurts as West and I stare at each other. Lines worry his forehead and the hurt that I see—is it possible that all his concern, his worry, his overprotection...could it be that he really just needs me to need him?

Mom’s face becomes blank and pale as if she’s going to pass out. “Why would you lie about being over them?”

“Because,” I say with way too much anger and then force myself to calm down. “Because the real me made you sad, and when I changed you became happy. You wanted me to like shopping, so I did. You didn’t want me to like cars, so I hid it. My panic attacks made you cry, so I lied.”

The rumbling sound of my Mustang echoes behind me. I slowly back away from them and toward the door. “I’m done making this family happy.”

West and Jack begin to move in my direction and I realize I won’t make it.

“Rach!” Ethan yells, waving them off. They give him space as he grabs my arm. I jerk, but he subtly shakes his head. Ethan shoves my small purse into my hand and abruptly opens the door. “You owe me.”

Chapter 71

Isaiah

AT THE DRAGWAY, I PARK Rachel’s Mustang next to Echo’s ’65 Corvette and smile when I hear the sharp intake of air from Rachel.

“She’s beautiful.” Either forgetting or not caring she has no shoes, Rachel plops out of the car in full ball gown and heads for the ’Vette. “Are those the original fenders?”

Standing next to each other, Echo and Noah laugh. Echo answers, “I don’t know.”

Completely floored the owner of such a classic doesn’t know the answer, Rachel turns to me. I sweep her up into my arms, hating that she’s barefoot on gravel, and she squeals when I do it. “The car belonged to Echo’s brother.”

“Oh,” she says, remembering how I explained that he died.

“I’m rethinking that double date,” says Noah. “One car freak is enough.”

“Tough,” I tell him. I nuzzle the top of Rachel’s head, inhaling her sweet ocean scent. Part of me is higher than I’ve ever felt in my life. She chose me and I chose her. Nothing will stop us. “Echo, do you have clothes?”

“Yep.” She shows a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. “They’re mine so they’ll be a bit too long.”

“And I brought shoes.” Abby magically appears beside Echo. She gives Rachel the pair Abby most often wears, and I set Rachel down. With a quick peck to my lips, Rachel goes off to change.

“Do you have the money?” I ask Noah.

He hands me an envelope and it feels heavy. This is how much it cost me to be free from the system. “You really did have my back,” I say to him.

Noah shifts so that his hair hides his eyes. “I would do anything for you or Beth.”

“Sorry, man. I’ve been a dick.”

“Yeah, you have.” He smiles and so do I.

“We’ve got two hours until this place closes.” I take the rest of our money and slip it into the envelope. Thumbing through the cash, I realize there’s more here than there should be, even with the money Beth put up. “I thought you said you only borrowed two thousand.”

“I did,” says Noah. “Abby said she chose a side. We need to win nine hundred.”

The girls come out of the bathroom. Rachel drags the dress along with her. “We could use this thing as a parachute.”

I stare at Abby as she walks by, and my never-ending gaze makes her squirm.

“What’s your problem?” she asks.

“Thanks,” I say.

“Pissing Eric off is fun. Besides, it was your money to begin with.”

No, she did it because she and I are friends.

“I got us races.” Noah leans on the driver’s-side door of the Corvette. “Since you were taking your time winning the girl.”

Over the loudspeaker, the announcer calls the next set of races. I look at Noah and nod with my chin. “Mount up.”

Chapter 72

Rachel

THE DRAGSTERS’ ENGINES SCREAM INTO the night. From the top row of the bleachers, Eric looks down on me, waiting. Our money is due to him by midnight. We’re twenty minutes away and five hundred short.

Standing next to the bleachers, I watch from a distance as Echo and Abby wait for Noah and Isaiah to bring her Corvette back around to the side. The engine burned at the line, costing Noah the race and Echo her car.

I suck in my bottom lip as I glance at Echo again. It was her brother’s car. The only piece she has left of her best friend that died in Afghanistan. I think of Gavin, Jack, Ethan and West. Right now, I’m mad at them and they’re mad at me, but it would kill me if they died.

And I cost Echo his car.

Loose rocks roll on the blacktop and Zach appears at my side. “I hear you’re finally taking the race against me.”

I nod. Isaiah didn’t have to tell me that we’re down to desperate. “What happens if I lose?”

Zach’s eyes shoot up behind me, and I don’t have to follow his gaze to know that he’s looking at Eric. Shoving his hands in his pockets, Zach steps closer to me and whispers, “Don’t take this race.”