Chasing Impossible (Pushing the Limits #5)(66)

Isaiah’s eyes are blazing. He’s just as pissed as Ryan. I should care more than I do, but seeing Abby pity me—I’m done. “Abby’s here for the week. If one person in this room gives her a ride back to Louisville, type 1 diabetes or not, I’ll kick their ass.”

Abby

My grandmother took me to church once. She lit a candle, got down on her knees and prayed.

Grams wasn’t a churchgoer, but Dad had been gone longer than normal and when he came back, he was in bed for a few days and I wasn’t allowed to see him. I understand now he was shot, but Grams just told me he was sick.

Sick.

On the first night he was home, he cried out twice in pain. I never knew my father could feel pain. He seemed too big for that. Too strong.

Scared of this monster of an emotion that had been ushered into my safe house, I had placed every stuffed animal I owned in the hallway and position them to face Dad’s room. I then dragged down my covers from my bed and slept outside his room. If Dad couldn’t fend off the boogeyman I was always afraid would sneak in at night and steal me from him, then I’d be strong enough to save him.

I wasn’t strong enough to save him. He’s in prison and there’s nothing I can do. Grams is too old and I can’t stop her from aging. Logan has type 1 diabetes. I don’t even know what that means except it being one more thing I can’t fix.

Everyone but me and Logan are still inside the cabin, and after checking several times, I don’t see any sign of Logan. In the distance there’s a huge red barn and, a little bit farther, I spot corn and some cows. If I breathe in deep enough, I can smell their poop.

Another quick glance to make sure no one from the cabin is watching and I pull out my cell that Isaiah had collected back from Eric last night. Lots of calls, lots of messages, lots of texts, but I only call the one person in Ricky’s organization I can trust.

The phone barely has a chance to ring all the way through once and there’s an answer. “Yeah?”

“It’s me,” I say.

“Jesus, Abby.” It’s weird to hear relief in Linus’s tone. “Where are you? Are you okay?”

I glance around and the deep blue sky with big white fluffy clouds appear to be mocking me with their happiness. “I have no idea where I’m at and other than some possible rope burns on my wrists, I’m fine.”

“Fucking *,” Linus growls. “I’m going to eat Eric’s heart for dinner tonight.”

“Tommy okay?” I ask.

“Yeah. He told us what happened and he’s real shook up. Are you free? Can you walk to some place that’s familiar? If not, describe to me where you’re at.”

Linus doesn’t know that Eric let me go and if Eric was the one who tried to put a bullet in me weeks ago, why would he play such an elaborate game? The immediate desire to return to Louisville stalls. “Eric told me Tommy shot me.”

Silence. A long silence. Long enough that my heart beats a bit faster with each passing second.

“Does he have proof?” Linus sounds so cold...too deadly.

“Other than words? No, but we both know that Logan could confirm if it’s true.”

“Let’s get you back first, and then we’ll tackle this. Describe to me where you’re at.”

“Well—” A stinging sensation from my scalp as the phone is jerked from my hand and a few strands of my hair go along with it. “Ow!”

“Abby!” roars Linus. “Talk to me, Abby!”

Isaiah is all brooding over me with his six feet in height and tattoos meant to scare stupid people and he pushes the red button that ends the call.

“Asshole.” I hold out my open palm for my phone.

Isaiah pockets my cell, but instead tosses me a bag of mini powdered donuts. “I’m in agreement with Logan. You need some space from Louisville. At least a few days’ worth.”

I open the bag of donuts with so much force that the paper tears and I drop to the ground. I shove one mini donut into my mouth and gnaw on the sugar in a really ticked-off way. Stupid Isaiah and Logan always stupidly getting involved.

My cell rings and Isaiah pulls it out just long enough to power it off.

“Linus is worried,” I state.

“That would require Linus to have a soul.”

He’s got me there. I eat another donut, but choose to take a smaller bite this time. Maybe I do need some time to think my options through and it won’t go well with Linus and Ricky up my ass and Tommy possibly trying to stick a knife in my jugular.

Isaiah eases down beside me and now we’re both sitting on the grass, leaning against his parked Mustang. “West brought you some clothes and Rachel said she threw in some other things you might need.”

Rachel. Good God, hearing her name hurts. Seems like weeks ago when I texted with her, but it was only last night. Isaiah should just tie me to the back of his car and drive me down that long and winding gravel road that leads to God knows where. “How is she?”

“Mad at you. Mad at me for not bringing her here to see you.” He raises his knees and rests his arms on them. “If you stop working for Ricky you wouldn’t have to be worrying about bringing problems to Rachel. I know you want to be her friend.”

I do. More than Isaiah could comprehend. Being around Rachel always made me feel normal. “When you started hanging out at Rachel and West’s were you ever amazed at how much food they had? I mean, it was everywhere. Overflowing out of the fridge, out of the pantry, on the tabletops. I swear they even used it for decoration.”