“You stole from me.”

West holds my arms at my sides. “I stole from you. Ethan objected. Blame me.”

I stare at Ethan. He’s been keeping something from me, and like he did with me over the panic attacks, I never asked. Maybe because I never wanted to know. “Why?”

Ethan presses his lips into a fine line. “Gavin has a gambling addiction.”

West releases my arms. “Ethan!”

Ethan throws out his arms. “What? We took over four thousand dollars from her, West. That’s not money you take because you need gas.”

The two of them argue as I stumble across the items I had tossed on the floor. Gavin, my oldest brother, the head of all of us, the strongest, the leader, has a problem. I sit on the bed and clear my throat, ignoring the raw pain. “How bad?”

West shoves his hands in his pockets with such force that his boxers stick out. “Bad. None of us ever meant for it to happen. You know those nights you’d cover for Ethan, we figured out it worked for me, too, so the four of us started hanging.”

Of course they did. Leaving me out would be the thing to do. I rub my forehead as the migraine from the panic attack sets in.

“We wanted to have fun,” says Ethan. “Away from Mom and Dad. It’s hard on Gavin and Jack. They hate being a part of this family. They look down the hall and they see Colleen’s room. They look at how Mom treated you and they felt like they were reliving the cancer. They saw you and...”

They saw her.

“So one night we went to the riverboat.” West continues Ethan’s story, no doubt hoping I wouldn’t make the connection. “I’d scored me and Ethan some fake IDs. Gavin got hooked and we tried to help, but...”

“He found other ways to gamble when we stopped him from going to the boat,” finishes Ethan. “He owed some bad people money. Thank God you had enough to pay them off.”

I lower my head into my hands. Isaiah and I are screwed. “You have no idea what you’ve done,” I whisper.

The bed shifts, and I peek to find Ethan sitting beside me and West standing in front of me. Both of them hold their shoulders slouched forward.

“We’re not enabling him.” West clearly believes that what I said means something completely different. “Gavin tried going to Dad, but Dad was too busy to listen, so Gavin came to me. He agreed to get help if I helped him pay the debt. And he’s going to get help. Gavin just didn’t want Dad to know how bad it was, and he never wants Mom to know.”

“Rach,” says Ethan. “Gavin’s going to rehab after the charity dinner. Dad wants Mom to have one perfect night before Gavin goes and then Dad will tell Mom everything.”

I massage my temples, wishing the throb would disappear. This entire family is one big mess. When I think my legs won’t give out, I stand. Ethan joins me, and West braces his arms as if I’m going to fall. I push past them and go for the door.

“Where are you going?” asks Ethan.

I pause and choke back the automatic lie. What would this family have been like if Colleen had never died? “I’m going to see Isaiah, and you aren’t going to stop me.”

Chapter 57

Isaiah

I ROLL A GLASS JAR full of nuts against the tool bench at the garage. Completely broken, Rachel sits a few feet from me in the chair Abby dragged out of the office for her when her sobs became too intense for her to stand. Logan leans against the office window with the back of his head resting against the glass. This isn’t his problem, but he treats it like it is. For that, I have respect.

Abby crouches in front of Rachel, doing what I should be doing, consoling. Saying the words I should be saying, that’s it’s not her fault and it’ll be okay. Abby’s right. It’s not her fault. She did nothing wrong by protecting our money in her room. Her brothers on the other hand...

I grab the jar and throw it across the room. Glass shatters against the wall. My chest moves rapidly. We have seven hundred dollars. Four-thousand three hundred dollars short of what we need.

“Feel better?” asks Logan with absolutely no inflection.

My head falls back. “Some.” At least the anger is under control. That is, until I get my hands on her brothers. “The nitro system goes in my car.”

“Isaiah,” Logan says again. “Rachel’s car is the better one. Add the system to hers. We’ll have a better shot at winning.”

I cross my arms over my chest, unmoved and unconvinced. Movies and television make nitro look like child’s play, but it’s not. The systems are tricky and too many things can go wrong. Even though she won’t be the person drag racing with it, I don’t want her in a car with that type of danger. “Not your call.”

Rachel wipes her eyes and stands. “Then it’s mine. I don’t understand why you’re fighting us on this. We have a better chance to win with the system in my car.”

“No.”

Her hair moves with her frustrated breath. “If you won’t put the system in my car, then let me race against Zach.”

Tension cramps my neck and I pop it to the right. Drag racing is dangerous. Nitro is dangerous. If Zach is working with Eric, then Zach is lethal. Rachel is the one thing in my life I can’t lose. Why can’t she see how much I love her? That I need to protect her?

Logan pushes off the wall. “The way I see it, you’re outvoted. It’s her car. If she wants the system in it, install it. Besides, you’ll be the one firing the tanks, not her.”

Because I don’t argue, I stay silent, but let my arms drop. Rachel misreads me and wraps herself around me. Last night, I spent a few hours in heaven by holding my angel tight. Rachel went home, and we were both sent to hell. I kiss the top of her head. I promised I’d take care of her, and I’ll do anything to keep that promise.

* * *

It’s Monday morning and because Pro Performance insists on a high school diploma along with the certification, I have to ignore my problems and go to school. The moment I walk into the building, Abby joins my side.

“You’re actually going today?” I ask.

She shrugs. “Might as well. Occasionally I like to throw people off. By the way, I got my hands on a nitro system.”

“How much?”

Abby matches my strides up the stairs. “Consider it a gift.”

I freeze on the landing. “I thought you had to stay financially out.”

Reaching the second floor, Abby walks backward. “You aren’t the only one who had people owing them favors.” She enters the second room on the right and I smirk. I never knew she took honors math.

Mr. Holden calls me from the steps below and waits as I head back down. I jack my thumb in the other direction. “I don’t want to be late.”

“I’ll give you a slip,” he says, as if he ran to catch me. “We need to talk.”

I nod and follow him. Instead of going to the school’s auto shop, he chooses an empty classroom and closes the door. “What’s going on?” I ask.

Mr. Holden fiddles with his safety glasses. “There were some irregularities with the certification testing.”

I say nothing, having no idea how this involves me. I knew everything on that test.

“Several of the guys you tested with had the same scores, missing the same questions. They reviewed the tapes and caught them cheating.”

“I didn’t cheat.”

“I know,” says Mr. Holden. “But this scandal has the testing facility questioning everything from that day. They’re zeroing in on you because of your score. They have adults who don’t score as well as you did, so it makes them wonder if you had outside help.”

I slam my books on the desk beside me. “I studied for years for this test.”

“I know,” says Mr. Holden.

“I didn’t cheat.”

He runs a hand over his salt-and-pepper hair. “I talked to the facility’s manager. Told him you’re a good kid so he agreed to let you retake the test.”

My teeth click together. Retake the test. For once in my life, I followed proper society’s rules, and all I got was a kick in the nuts. “What happens when I ace that one? Are they going to accuse me of cheating again? Because there is no way a street punk foster kid can have a fucking brain?”