Crash into You (Pushing the Limits #3)(87)

“Did you know that Abby is a drug dealer?”

Damn, straight to the point. I pull at my bottom earring. Abby warned me at the dragway about this conversation. I had no idea Rachel would yank out the guns this early. “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She inspects her nails like this is casual for her, but I know better.

“Because it’s Abby’s story to tell, not mine. She promised to keep her business away from you, and when Abby gives her word, she means it. If I thought you’d be in danger, I’d be in the middle of this.”

She scoffs like I told a joke. “You can’t get in the middle of anything.”

I say nothing because I don’t argue. Rachel’s safety and happiness is my priority. “What you did for Abby tonight was nice.” Nice is an understatement. For the first time since I’ve known Abby, someone gave her love.

“She’s my friend,” she says softly.

Rachel laces her hands together, unlaces and repeats. Something’s digging at her and I want her inner thoughts. “What’s bothering you?”

She lets her hands fall to her sides. “Zach offered to race against me. Since we need money, I should accept.”

The guy is becoming a switchblade in my thigh. “Did he say something to you tonight?”

“Yes, but he first brought it up weeks ago...”

“I know.” And I told him to stay clear of her. It’s too coincidental, Eric showing at the garage this evening then Zach approaching her at the dragway tonight, and I don’t believe in chance. Zach’s trying to pull Rachel into a race, but I can’t see the benefit of it. I can’t see how that would help Eric win.

“I want to help.” There’s hurt in her eyes, and it dawns on me that there’s more to her and Zach’s conversations than cars.

“What’s he saying to you?”

Rachel pauses as she chooses her words. She doesn’t do that often and my gut twists. “Do you trust me?” she asks.

A combination of dread and anger pummels my insides as the answer slams into my head. Zach is trying to create doubt. They’re trying to place a wedge between us.

“I trust you.” And she needs to trust me back. “I’ll take care of the money, Rachel. All right?” I’m not asking permission, but I am asking her to drop it. “And stay away from Zach.”

“Why? I know he can come on a little strong, but he really doesn’t bother me.”

My neck tightens as I contemplate telling Rachel my theory on Zach and Eric. But then I wonder if that would scare her. She already mentioned a few minutes ago how she feels overwhelmed by it all. “Can you just trust me?”

“Okay.” She glances around the empty apartment, reminiscent of her first night here. “Do you mind if I take a shower? I smell like burnt rubber.”

“Sure.” If she does, then I must reek like I bathed in it. “I’ll take one after.”

* * *

The subflooring is cold beneath my feet, and after the heat from the misty bathroom my body shudders against the temperature of the apartment. I change to a fresh pair of jeans and walk into the dark bedroom for a shirt.

In a tank top and pair of cotton drawstring pants, Rachel sits in the middle of my bed with her knees drawn to her chest. Her hair is blown dry and angles around her face. Light from the street highlights her perfectly, casting a heavenly glow.

I’m reaching into the laundry basket next to the bed for a T-shirt when delicate fingers touch my wrist. “Can I look at your tattoos?”

My mouth dries out when I meet her eyes. There’s no seduction there, but honest curiosity. My heart beats faster when I nod and join her on the bed. Rachel traces the dragon. Playing with fire again, her tickling caress strikes a match and creates a slow burn.

“Did it hurt?” she asks. “The tattoos?”

“Some areas more than others.”

“What was it like?”

As her fingernails slide down my arm to the knot tattooed on my forearm, shivers run through my blood. “Like someone with sharp nails scratching a sunburn.”

“Why do you do it?”

It’s a simple question, but a complex answer. “So I’ll always remember.”

Rachel traces the twists and turns of the Brothers of Arrow Knot, granting me silence. It’s my decision whether or not to continue the conversation. My angel does this—she opens the door and allows me the freedom to decide whether or not I want to step through. It’s strange, my entire life I’ve had doors closed on me and now that one’s open, I’m not sure how to enter.

I suck in air, guessing one way is headfirst. “That one’s for Noah.”

Rachel’s eyes flash to mine, and I take comfort in the happiness I created there.

“It’s a Celtic knot—it means warriors bonded as brothers through battle.”

The right side of her mouth tips. “Does that mean you and Noah have been on the same side of several fistfights?”

I chuckle, remembering a few we probably shouldn’t have taken on. “Yeah. But it’s more than that. Noah accepts people as they are. Doesn’t ask. Doesn’t judge. He’s family.”

Though lately he’s been inching away by following his dreams. Someday, he’ll graduate from college, get a real job and marry Echo. Then they’ll be a family without me.