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

“And that is?” I rub my neck to relieve the building pressure.

“You answer my phone calls and you meet with me when I ask.”

Mrs. Collins barely contains her excitement. This meeting was never a bluff. The head-shrinker held a full house the entire time.

With her hands in her lap, Courtney waits patiently for my answer. I hate being on a leash. All I want is freedom—to be out from underneath everything that holds me down. With Courtney, I won’t just be on a damn leash; she’ll keep me on a choke collar. But this opportunity is a once-in-a-lifetime shot. The money Pro Performance pays their mechanics is sweet. “Okay.”

Courtney flashes a smile that’s all teeth. “Excellent. Our first meeting will be next Thursday. Right after school.”

Feeling the grip of a leash choking my neck, I grab at the collar of my T-shirt. “Fine.”

Courtney stands. “Mrs. Collins, thank you for the invite. I need to run, though. Staff meeting.”

“We’ll talk again soon,” answers Mrs. Collins as Courtney goes out the door.

Mr. Holden leaves without acknowledging anyone. The sound of the second hand ticking is the only noise in the room. Mrs. Collins relaxes back in her chair and folds her hands over her lap. “Now that we’re alone, is there anything you’d like to tell me?”

“No.”

“Anything about your foster parents or Noah or where you’ve been staying the night?”

“No.”

Her eyes drift to the tricked-out compass tattooed on the inside of my right arm. “What does your tattoo mean?”

“Nothing that concerns you.” She needs to steer clear of what’s personal. “You think you’re slick setting me up so that Courtney can keep tabs on me, don’t you?”

A satisfied smile crosses her lips. “Occasionally I can be crafty. Regardless of how you see yourself, you’re still a minor. The system may not be perfect, but it exists to keep you safe.”

Spoken by a lady who wasn’t raised in the nonperfect system since she was six. The clock ticks. She breaks the silence. “It was interesting what you said earlier.”

My muscles tense. “What?”

“You said everything leaves.”

Not interested in being analyzed, I switch the topic. “Can I go?”

“I can help you,” she says in a soothing voice that probably puts insomniacs to sleep. “Echo trusts me and so does Noah.”

Echo and Noah needed help. Hell, they had problems that could be fixed. “I ain’t them.”

“No.” Her eyes bore into mine. “You’re not, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t help.”

I push off the wall. “Actually, that’s exactly what it means.” And I leave.

Irritated, I punch a streamer hanging from the ceiling. I’m late for sixth period. Mrs. Collins would have written me a note, but I’d rather risk detention than stay in the same room with her. I turn the corner and skid to a halt when I spot Abby on the floor next to my locker.

“About time you showed,” I say. She already skipped two days this week. Her head jerks up and her wide eyes freak me out. “What’s wrong?”

Abby quickly stands. “It’s Eric. He found Rachel.”





Chapter 22

Rachel

WORTHINGTON PRIVATE HAS A HUGE parking lot, and because of the sheer number of students that own cars, the administration permits overflow parking near the football stadium. This is where I park every morning—a few feet from the ticket booth. My brothers, on the other hand, who drive separately because of their millions of after-school activities, park as close as they can to the front doors without a handicap sticker.

By parking here, I don’t have to worry about some idiot with a driver’s permit hitting my car or some overzealous door opener scratching my paint. I can also sit by myself without people gawking at the lone Young sibling who doesn’t have their act together.

The last number on the clock radio changes and my mouth dries out. Today’s going to be awful. I grab my backpack off the passenger seat, slide out the door and shiver against the January air. The first rays of dawn glimmer against the frost on the grass.

The pressure inside me feels like an elevator filled with sludge slowly rising to the top floor. The doors are begging to be opened so everything can spill out.

Jack and Gavin have been relentless about me helping Mom with the charity. Dad reminded me this morning that my answer is due to him this afternoon and said he knew I’d make the right decision. The overpowering combination of my two oldest brothers’ pressure and West and Ethan urging me to accept Dad’s offer edges me toward insanity. All of it is a perfect recipe for a panic attack, and I can’t have another one with Ethan watching me like a hawk.

“Rachel Young,” says a voice behind me.

I don’t know this voice. Scanning the overflow lot, I realize how alone I am. Rays of the sun peek around the school, but darkness still owns most of the sky. I slowly turn and suck in a breath when I recognize a face I never thought I would see again. It’s the guy from the drag race. The one that scared me. It’s Eric.

A flood of adrenaline flows through my body. For some, adrenaline makes them stronger and sharpens their reactions. The rush causes me to freeze. I consider screaming, but even if I regained control of the muscles in my throat, would anyone hear me? From the main parking lot, bass lines pound from several expensive cars with even more expensive sound systems.