Crash into You (Pushing the Limits #3)

Crash into You (Pushing the Limits #3) Page 52

Ironic how Isaiah had tried to warn me away from racing on that first night we met, but I don’t regret a single decision. Because I stuck around, I fell in love with him. “I don’t have a choice. Now tell me what happens if I lose.”

“You do have a choice,” he pleads. “I thought I did, too, but I don’t now. I have to win and I will. I’ve seen you race before. You don’t have it in you to win.”

“If I lose, Zach.”

“He’ll own you. He’ll own Isaiah. Details don’t matter at that point.”

I suck in air and slowly release it. “I’ll see you at the line.”

Noah and Isaiah push the Corvette into a vacant spot and when they pop the hood they both curse as smoke billows out. I wander to stand beside Echo and Abby. Echo’s finger taps anxiously against her arm.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her. To see something that means so much to her fall apart is heart-wrenching. Knowing that Isaiah and I are responsible is devastating.

“So am I,” she says. “Noah lost two hundred because the ’Vette broke down at the line.”

“Echo...” How do I say this so she doesn’t deck me, because she obviously doesn’t know. “Fixing the engine on a ’65 Corvette is going to cost a lot more than two hundred dollars.”

Echo rips her gaze from the car. “We have forever to fix the car. We’ve got twenty minutes to come up with five hundred. You and Isaiah are more important than any car.”

Abby elbows me. “Shocking, isn’t it?”

“What I don’t get is how this guy knows we’re here.” Echo looks over at Eric, who seems all too happy with the turn of events.

“Because he’s Satan,” says Abby.

With his shoulders hunched over, as if preparing to tell a loved one the news of a death, Isaiah slowly strides over. “I’m sorry, Echo. I swear to you, I’ll fix it.”

“It’s okay, Isaiah. I knew what I was getting into.”

His heavy storm-cloud eyes glance at me. “We’re short.” Isaiah draws me into him. “This scares the shit out of me, angel.”

I place a slow kiss against his cheek and a longer one against his lips. “I won’t lose.”

At least I pray I won’t. The confidence I’m exuding on the outside doesn’t exist on the inside. Isaiah worked hard to prohibit this race, but in the end, couldn’t stop it. It’s on me to save the two of us.

The loss of control, the fact he can’t protect me in this moment, wages war on his face. “If you lose this race, you don’t stop the car. You keep driving. This time you go to the police. You tell them everything. You get someone to protect you.”

“I won’t leave you.”

His hands weave into my hair. “Please, Rachel. I’m trying here.”

“Echo will get Rachel out,” says Noah. “Rachel, I’ll stay by his side.”

I go to protest, but the grumble of Zach’s engine interrupts. Isaiah places an arm around my waist to tuck me close. Zach yells over his engine, “What’s the bet?”

“Five hundred,” answers Isaiah. “Abby’s holding.”

“And I think I’ll watch Abby.” In his half strut, Eric slinks over with a few guys from the night I street raced with him.

“Pole dancers are down the street,” says Abby in a bored voice. “And if I let you watch, I’d cost more.”

Without waiting for his retort, Abby walks over and shows Zach our five hundred. He motions to Eric, and Eric produces a wad of cash that he holds between the slits of his fingers.

“I’ll take that,” she says.

“You’re not neutral,” Eric replies.

“And you’re a jackass. Public place, Eric, and think about whose territory you’re standing in. I believe at the moment I outrank you.”

Eric bends his elbow to hand her the cash. She collects and counts. Once she nods to Isaiah, he crushes his lips to mine. It’s a fast kiss, yet intense. Hands warm on my face, on my back. His lips moving rapidly, with such desire that when I go to catch my breath he pulls away. “I love you.”

Isaiah opens the door to my Mustang, finds his helmet, flips my hair behind my ear and straps the helmet on my head. Behind me, Noah edges the fire-retardant jacket onto my arms.

Isaiah speaks at such a fast pace I can barely keep up. “If the car makes any funny sounds, does anything strange, you brake, do you understand me? Don’t try to win the race. Don’t floor the gas. That’s when the wrecks happen. Listen to your instincts. Anything weird, you hit the brake.”

I’ve watched Isaiah put the jacket and helmet on dozens of times, and each time my heart ached with the thought of what would happen if the car wrecked. My eyes widen as I see the sweat breaking out on his forehead. “The fire extinguisher is under the passenger seat. If the car crashes, you get out. If you can’t, you grab the extinguisher, and I swear I’ll be there.”

“There isn’t a nitrous system in the car,” I remind him blankly.

His fingers pause on the zipper. “Even without it, this is dangerous.” A pause. “It’s okay to back out. I swear to God I’ll protect you.”

“I’m doing this.”

“Tell her about the torque,” says Noah as Isaiah zips up my jacket.

“I know what torque is,” I whisper.

“Not this, angel.” Isaiah secures the straps to the jacket and double-checks the helmet. “You’ve played with the car in parking lots, learning how to go for the light, but I’ve put enough torque and horsepower in your pony that she’s going to kick up on you. Nothing like those bad boys with the million-dollar engines, but she’ll ride up. It’s a good thing. She’ll come back down. Don’t fight her, Rachel. Just let her run.”

In the driver’s seat, I numbly reach for the seat belt until Isaiah leans in. His hands quickly maneuver around the five-point harness he installed for racing. “Can you see?”

One hand grips the steering wheel, the other the stick shift. The harness has me locked tight to the chair. “Yeah.” And then I start to think. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to see the lines.”

Isaiah squeezes my hand. “I’ll walk you through it.”

He closes the door and I start my pony. I rev the engine a couple of times because I need the calmness associated with her singing. Taking a deep breath, I shift into First and follow Isaiah to the starting line.

My entire life I tried to be all girl with bows and painted nails, but feeling my baby purr beneath me, knowing that I’m about to push her—I feel very alive.

Curling his fingers as a sign to continue or using his palm as a stop, Isaiah guides me around the water to avoid a burnout and slowly edges me to the staging area. I hit the first light and Isaiah throws his hand to a stop. My heart pounds in my chest. I’m going to drag race.

The smell of rubber hangs in the air as Zach completes his burnout. The roar of his engine grows as his car joins mine. Isaiah nods at me as he walks away. This is it. This is me on my own. Zach creeps forward, his second staging light hit. Once I hit the second line, I’ll have seconds before the race starts.

I inhale deeply and tap on the gas. My second light flashes on. In rapid succession, the yellow lights count down...three...two...one...

My foot falls off the clutch as the other rams on the gas, a perfect coordination of shifting and moving. The engine roars as my body presses into the seat. Adrenaline shoots through my veins as the front wheels pop up and slam back onto the dragway. The same gravitational forces that pulled me back push me forward.

Becoming one with the car, I shift with her sounds, letting her rip, letting her run. And in seconds, I pass the finish line, laughing, soaring like a bird in flight.

I just won.

Chapter 73

Isaiah

RACHEL BARELY PARKS HER MUSTANG when I open the door and undo the harness. She yanks the helmet off and shakes her blond hair into a mess that only makes me want to touch her more. I slip her out of the car.

She laughs as she knots her arms around my neck. Both of my arms are steel bands on her waist as I lift her feet off the ground. From this angle, she’s higher than me and I have to tilt my head up to meet her lips.

Rachel sends hot shivers down my spine as her hands caress my neck and cheek. Her lips move smoothly against mine. She’s drawing me in by conjuring up images of being alone with her, and forcing me to forget that we have an audience. Until Noah coughs.

Her eyes have a contagious gleam. “I want to do that again.”

“You’re going to make scaring the shit out of me a habit, aren’t you?”

Her lips whisper against mine as she speaks. “And you won’t do a thing to stop it.”

“No.” As much as it kills me. “I won’t.” I reluctantly set Rachel on the ground. Abby extends the thousand dollars to me and I put it in the envelope.

“Mind taking a walk with me, Noah?” I ask.

“Let’s end this,” he says.

Eric leans against the fence line on the other side of the lot. His boys loiter a few feet down, and they keep their eyes on us.

Echo places her hand on Rachel’s arm. “Should you really leave your car here?”

Rachel’s violet eyes stay trained on me. “No. But it’ll be okay.”

“Rachel.” Echo gently nudges. “Let’s move your car.”

“It’s all right, angel. We won this one.”

With reluctance, Rachel slides back into the driver’s seat of her car, and Echo slips into the other side. Rachel drives off, and Abby starts off after them on foot.

“Take care of her,” I call out.

“I will,” Abby says without looking back.

The envelope feels heavy in my hand. Not long ago, I went to Eric so I could stay out of foster care. Now I’m handing him five thousand dollars, and I’m still losing my home.

“Think he’ll keep his word?” I mutter to Noah.

“No,” he answers. “It’s not his style to lose.”

It’s not. “I’ve told Abby to get Rachel and Echo the hell out of here the moment the first punch is thrown.”

“Thanks,” he says. “This is killing Echo, but she knows what to do and will help Abby get Rachel out.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

Noah flashes the same jackass-crazy grin as the day he moved into Shirley and Dale’s. “Yeah, bro, I do. This is what brothers do for each other.”

Brother. Years without a mom. Years without a dad. Knowing that no other blood relative existed on the face of the planet for me. But within two years, water becomes thicker than blood.

I hold my hand out to Noah and when he has a firm grip, I pull him in for a fast hug. We both clap each other’s back.

“We’re family,” he whispers.

“Family,” I repeat.

I let him go and we start off for the fence line. Eric watches us approach. He says nothing so I offer him the envelope. “Count it if you want.”