Chasing Impossible (Pushing the Limits, #5)(22)

“You did right,” Noah says. “Did you get a good look at any of them?”

I scrub both hands over my face. I’ve tripped down a dark, deep hole.

“Logan,” Isaiah pushes in a low voice.

My arms drop to my sides. “Yeah. The guy who shot Abby. I saw him. And another guy. He went into the alley before I did, but he said he was with her. He took Abby’s phone, walked me to the street and disappeared.”

Isaiah and Noah share a long look then Isaiah tips his head to the door. “One of us needs to be in the dark and stay clear of problems. To protect what’s ours if it bleeds into our lives.”

Noah stares straight into my eyes. “I’m right outside.”

I nod to Noah and he leaves. Isaiah’s gray eyes search mine. “The guy you found hovering over Abby—was he our height? Midtwenties. Cold son-of-a-bitch.”

“Yeah. He could have shot me, but he didn’t.”

Isaiah rubs the tiger tattooed up his arm. “Because he needed you to get Abby out without him being involved, otherwise he would have. His name is Linus and he’s high up the food chain. You see him again, run in the opposite direction. It’s a problem he knows who you are and he’s not going to like you were a witness.”

“He was watching us at the bar.”

A muscle in Isaiah’s jaw jumps. If Isaiah knows his name, then he and Linus are aware of each other, and Isaiah’s real protective when it comes to keeping Rachel away from his days on the street. Isaiah has a legit job working on custom cars and he busted his ass to reach this point in his life.

“He asked if I saw who shot Abby and I told him no.”

“Good call. I’ll ask around. See if any of our names pop up. Did the person that shot Abby see you?”

“His instincts said I was there, but the two other guys he was with were on the move so he left.”

“What did he look like?”

“My height, leaner than me, jeans, winter hat on his head. It was shadowed so I can’t give too much description, but if I see him again, I’d know him.”

“What did you say to the cops?”

Exactly what Linus had told me to say. “That me and Abby were on a date, we got separated, she called me scared from the alley, that I went after her...” That’s when my blood sugar tanked and they stopped asking questions.

“They didn’t ask if you saw anything?”

“Things were bad. If I talk to the cops again maybe I could work with one of those sketch artists—”

“You’re going to need to be careful with that,” Isaiah cuts me off.

“What?”

“Talking to the cops—make sure you watch what you say.”

Pure anger pumps into my bloodstream. “Abby’s lying on some table bleeding and you’re concerned about what I say to the cops?”

“She’s a drug dealer, Logan. You say the wrong thing, she’ll be the one in handcuffs, not the guy who shot her. She’s not innocent. Who she is, what she was doing, why she was there... You bring up Linus and you might as well be the one who locks her cell. Whatever story you tell, keep it simple, keep it straight, and make sure you tell Abby and you two tell the same story over and over again.”

“Abby wants more than this life,” I say, and I’m not sure why. “Maybe she’ll talk to the police and cut some sort of deal.”

Isaiah pulls on his earring and he sucks in a breath like he’s trying to keep his ass from plowing into me. “Abby doesn’t know normal. Drug dealing—that’s her life.”

“You don’t know that.” My posture straightens, acting as if he’s the one attacking her. “None of us, not even you, know what’s going on behind the closed curtain.”

Isaiah reads my body language and pushes off the wall, his muscles tightening like we’re about to go to war. “Her father’s a drug dealer serving a life sentence in a prison downstate. Does that sound real enough for you? Want to know how I know? I’ve driven her there for family visitation weekend...twice. Abby doesn’t have a mother. Abby doesn’t have a father. Abby has Abby. We became friends because we understood each other. She fed me when she had extra food when I was in a bad foster home and I had her back when she wasn’t strong enough to handle herself on the streets.

“We used each other to survive, and in order to survive, Abby became what she understood. She’s a dealer. Abby won’t walk away from this life—it’s in her blood. What you see when she’s flirting with you, when she’s laughing with Rachel, it’s a part in a play. Abby’s pretending, she’s lying, and I’ve let the game go on too long with all of you. The real Abby would scare the shit out of you.”

“So that’s it? Abby’s a dealer?” Her voice circles in my brain. What? Am I not worthy of her friendship? Of yours? “She’s dirt and you’ve washed your hands of her? I thought you were a better man than that. A better friend.”

Isaiah closes the distance between us and I brace myself for impact. “You better shut the f*ck up, Logan. You’re my friend, but I love her like she’s my sister. I’m protecting Abby the only way I know how. You say the wrong thing, she goes to jail. If the police act on what you say and her employer thinks she’s the one that snitched, her throat will be slit by sunrise. This ain’t your world. It’s her world and there’s a different set of rules.”