Crash into You (Pushing the Limits #3)(78)

It’s only then when I realize where we are and what we’re doing. “This is Lovers’ Leap.”

Isaiah’s only answer is the minuscule tilt of his lips. I sit up and my hands press against the dashboard of the car as I try to catch a glimpse of the rocky cliff that has become urban legend from the front windshield. I’ve seen this place safely on the ground as I’ve passed it by on the freeway. My eyes, like everyone else’s, driven to the sky to ogle the place where people years ago drove off a cliff in a drag race and died.

There’s just something magnetic and curious about the morbid.

But as Isaiah races around the bends of the road, I lose the sense of somber and replace it with curiosity. “Is it scary?”

“No.”

The fir trees and climbing oaks grow so close together and near the road they appear to smother each other until a clearing appears. Isaiah shifts down and eases to a stop. With a flick of his wrist, he turns off the ignition and has the keys in his hands. “Come on.”

Isaiah’s out of the car and around the front to my side before I can slide from the seat. In a slick movement, he closes my door, links our hands together and nudges me ahead. I glance over my shoulder at the thick forest behind me and shiver at what lies in wait there, but Isaiah has no interest in what we’ve already seen. His eyes and body are pointed forward.

“What do you think?” he asks.

My breath catches in my throat when I see the splendor panning before me. Thousands of tiny lights twinkle all around the ground below and in the middle of the panoramic view the skyscrapers of Louisville soar into the air. “It’s gorgeous.”

“Yeah.” But he’s not looking at the view, but at me. I bite my lip and look away.

“So, am I the really the first one you’ve brought here?”

“Abby’s been here, but I didn’t bring her. She follows.” Isaiah lets go of my hand and jumps onto the only thing separating the two of us from a drop of death—a crumbling stone wall.

My heart smashes past my rib cage. “Be careful!”

“It’s safe.” Isaiah holds his hand out to me. “I won’t let you fall.”

My eyes drift to the dark hole on the other side of the wall. From the ground, the drop looked staggering, but Isaiah said he wouldn’t let me fall and from the sincerity leaking from his face, he means it more than he means anything else.

As if in a tunnel, I outstretch my arm, and just as my fingers hover over his, my cell pings. Isaiah’s eyebrows draw together and my blood flow halts. We both know it has to be Ethan.

Isaiah jumps down and I pull the cell out of my pocket. With one touch, the phone lights up.

Ethan: you need to come home.

My pulse quickens. Have I been busted? why?

Isaiah shifts beside me, but remains patient. He knows my twin typically leaves me alone and that a text from him can mean problems. The seconds stretch into an eternity: come home

Me: what’s the problem?

Ethan: I think you’re lying to me. I don’t think you’re driving.

The entire world sways to the right, then to the left, before refocusing. What does Ethan know? From behind me, Isaiah wraps his arms around my waist, engulfing me in the warmth and strength of his body. “What’s wrong, angel?”

“I don’t know.”

Me: you’re paranoid

Ethan: r u with the guy you skipped school with?

Adrenaline shoots down my arms and into my fingers as I break out of Isaiah’s embrace and press buttons on the phone.

“Rachel?” Isaiah’s eyes become storm clouds as he watches me raise my cell to my ear. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” I glance at the beautiful skyline. Isaiah brought me here to celebrate his and Logan’s wins tonight at the dragway and to celebrate his passing of the ASE. This glorious overlook is Isaiah’s special place, a place he’s never brought anyone else. This moment was huge and Ethan is ruining it.

Ethan answers on the first ring. “Come home, Rachel.”

Fire rages inside of me as the voice sinks in. It’s not Ethan—it’s West. “Give the phone to Ethan.”

“No,” says West. “You two have that screwed-up twin thing, and he’ll cover for you.”

Yes, he will. “This is between me and Ethan. Not me and you. He covers for me. I cover for him. And in case you never noticed, both of us have been covering for you for years.”

I hear shifting, a button hit wrong on the phone, then static. “Rachel,” says Ethan. My head drops. They put me on speaker. “Come home.”

“We had a deal!” I kick at a rock and it skips into the brush. “Twin amnesty, remember? How can you sell me out?”

“We had amnesty when I thought you were going for a drive.” There’s an unfamiliar edge to Ethan’s voice. The same tone Dad used on West when West was caught fighting at school. “Guess what we just heard about at a party? Something about you skipping school with some punk in a black Mustang. I told them they were crazy and then they showed me the damned picture on their cell phone. I’m going to say this one more time. Get home, Rachel, and get home now.”

I could crush brick with the amount of anger seething in me. “Both of you are such hypocrites!”

“Don’t want to hear it,” says Ethan. “It’s like we don’t even know who you are anymore. Running around with some punk, ditching school, lying to us about the panic attacks....”