Crash into You (Pushing the Limits #3)(92)

“She’s been overpreparing for that speech on Saturday, right, Rach?” Gavin shoves a forkful of rice into his mouth.

“I want to make everyone proud,” I say. At the word proud, Gavin glances away.

With the mere mention of her event, Mom fills everyone in on the details. How every seat is sold and how there is a waiting list and how five hundred people will be attending. My stomach cramps. Eric may not be an issue after all since this speech will possibly kill me first.

* * *

I escaped after dessert, asking Dad in front of everyone for permission to go to Abby’s. Understanding that I probably wasn’t going to hang with my new “rich” friend and was instead going to hang with Isaiah, Ethan and West slammed their silverware. My mother raised an eyebrow at their behavior, but said nothing. Once Dad confirmed I had finished homework, he told me to be home by ten.

Isaiah texted earlier today that he had work to do in the garage this evening. Needing to be someplace calm, I park next to the auto shop. I scan the lot and wonder if he went home when I don’t see his car. The puzzle is solved when I walk into the garage. In the bay, the hood to his Mustang is open and so are the doors. “Isaiah?”

I’m greeted by the buzzing of the overhead heaters. Isaiah mentioned that he was concerned about his engine overheating. I look to see what he’s done, and I rub my eyes. No.

A weariness overtakes me. A weariness that sleep could never solve.

I hit my hand against the open passenger door in my haste to peer inside the vehicle. In the backseat are two tanks of nitro. The door to the garage squeaks open. Isaiah’s eyes meet mine, and I swear I hear my heart ripping in two when I spot guilt.

“What are you doing here?” Isaiah asks.

I say nothing. We both know how bad this is—how this borders on a betrayal that is unspeakable.

Isaiah tugs at his bottom earring—a sure sign of inner turmoil. The silence builds between us and I’m the first to crack. “Did Abby get two systems?”

“No,” he says.

Red-hot tears of anger well in my eyes. “I thought we agreed...”

He cuts me off. “We didn’t agree. You and Logan wanted the system in your car, and I didn’t. End of story.”

Isaiah doesn’t argue. How many times has he told me that? “So what? I don’t get a vote? You aren’t the only one on the line here. Eric is coming after me, too.”

A string of curses leaves his mouth as he stalks over to me. “Every second of my day is consumed with the knowledge that you’re under him. I’m doing this to protect you.”

“By lying to me?”

Isaiah seems taken aback. “I didn’t lie.”

The first stupid tear breaks through and I quickly wipe it away. “You knew I expected you to put the system in my car. Regardless that you never said the words, it’s a lie.” My mind reels with the implications of what’s happened. “It’s worse than a lie. This is major. You made a decision without me.”

“That’s bull. You, Logan, Abby and I discussed the options.”

“But you decided our fate without me.” My hand pounds at my chest. “I thought we were a team. I thought we were partners.”

Isaiah places his hands on my shoulders. His gray eyes are waves crashing between anger and fear. “I don’t have much, Rachel, and I refuse to lose you.”

“I told you, I won’t ever touch the system. It’ll only be used on the dragway. We’ll take it out after we pay the debt.”

“These systems are dangerous. If someone hits you or the system malfunctions or you accidently set something off...” Isaiah runs through the impossible scenarios. His eyes dart as he talks, as if he’s searching for a way to fix all of the problems. My energy fades as I realize that’s exactly what he is doing. He’s trying to fix one more thing.

“The risks are small. You can’t control everything.”

“You’re wrong.” His hands move to my face—warm, strong, and I notice they tremble. “Let this go, Rachel. The decision is made. I’m doing this to protect you.”

To protect me. Because I’m not capable of making my own decisions. My hands shoot up and smack his arms off me. “I am not weak.”

His eyes widen. “I never said you were.”

I pull a hand through my hair and tug at the strands, hoping that I’m wrong. But I’m not. “You’re just like my brothers. You see me as fragile and stupid and as someone who can’t make her own decisions.”

Isaiah reaches out. “No, it’s not like that. I love you. You know this.”

I step away from him. “Yeah, that’s what they say, too.”

Chapter 59

Isaiah

THE PHONE RINGS THREE TIMES and Rachel’s sweet voice answers again, “Hi, this is Rachel Young. Leave a message after the beep.”

Like the other ten times, the beep happens, and I sit with my head hanging down listening to static. I should say I’m sorry, but I’m not. I should tell her I’m wrong and that we’ll install the system in her car, but that would be a lie. What I want is for her to walk through the door of the garage and tell me that she understands my need to protect her, my need to fix things.

From cars to situations to myself. Because if I didn’t take care of me, no one else would. This is me doing what no one ever did on my behalf—I’m protecting her because that’s what you do when you love someone. It’s what I always wanted someone to do for me.