“Came straight from an exposition game. Spring season starts soon.”

I close the hood of my car. “Baseball seems tame for you. I would have pegged you for football.”

“Naw,” says Logan. “Catcher is a crazy position. Bats flying near your head, a guy that hurls one-hundred-mile-per-hour fastballs at you and a runner going at full speed trying to take you out as you stand over home plate. That’s an adrenaline rush.”

Speaking of adrenaline rushes. “Follow me in your car. We’re going to head out past Fox Lane and test the system.”

* * *

The sky turns pink as the sun prepares to set. Logan and I stand in front of my car, staring at the mile stretch of new blacktop that will someday shepherd people to a crapload of new homes. Currently, it leads to construction vehicles and woods.

I motion toward the side. “Wait over there.”

“No way,” says Logan. “I want in on this action.”

I shake my head. “I haven’t driven with nitro before. If it weren’t for Eric breathing down our necks, I wouldn’t even be dealing with the shit. And if I did decide to play with it, I’d be testing this car on the drag strip during Test and Tune. But I’m short on time.”

Logan pats my shoulder. “Let’s live a little.”

He opens the door to the passenger side and closes it. The space between my skin and bones begins to vibrate; the dread that something nuclear is on the verge of exploding. I’m out of time, and something worse is going to happen if I don’t make money. I slide into my car.

* * *

My eyes flutter open and my vision blurs. I blink and it doesn’t help. I shut my eyes and press my thumb and forefinger against them, hoping to rub away the issue. Pain shoots through my body and when I open my mouth I taste blood.

The car spun. It kept spinning. I lost control.

“Logan.” My voice doesn’t sound like my own.

Silence. My eyes stay closed and everything floats on a haze—like a dream. Maybe I am dreaming. No. We crashed. My eyes won’t open again so I throw my hand out toward the passenger side. It claws through the air and smacks the empty seat.

“Logan, answer me, man,” I call out louder. Something trickles down my nose and my mind drifts. Maybe this was only a dream.

Chapter 60

Rachel

I IGNORE ISAIAH’S MESSAGES. I’M in love with a guy who thinks I’m as weak as my brothers say I am. The sad part is, I almost believed I was strong.

Three knocks on the door and I know it’s Mom. “Come in.”

With her blond hair slicked back into a ponytail at the nape of her neck, Mom pops her head in with a glowing smile. “Abby’s here.”

“Abby?” I sit up. Mom fell in love with private school–going, rich Abby. Not that Abby wowed them with her personality as much as Mom is wowed I have a friend. I wonder how much she’ll love her if she discovers my new best friend deals drugs.

Mom widens the door to reveal Abby dressed in her typical black hoodie and painted-on jeans. I start to smile until I notice she won’t meet my gaze. She’s only avoided me once, and that was when Eric revealed her real job.

I slide off the bed and dismiss my mother with one word. “Thanks.”

“Do you girls want anything?” Mom asks as she stands between us. “Food or drinks?”

Abby enters my room and handles a picture of me and my brothers. Her behavior is seriously freaking me out.

“No, thanks,” I say. “But we’ll let you know if we change our minds.”

Mom claps her hands against her legs. “All right then. Oh.” Her eyes brighten. “Abby, would you like to come to a charity event I’m throwing for the Leukemia Foundation on Saturday? It’ll be at The Lakes Country Club. Rachel will be speaking.”

“Sure,” says Abby.

“Great!” Mom rattles out a few details neither Abby nor I catch before excusing herself.

When the door clicks shut, Abby puts the picture down. “Think of a good lie to leave, and think of it fast. Isaiah and Logan are in the hospital.”

Chapter 61

Isaiah

MY HEAD THROBS. A PULSE that originates from the twelve stitches on my forehead and vibrates my skull. If it weren’t for my head, I’d probably feel the rest of my body. The doctor called me lucky. Lots of bruises. No broken bones. No internal injuries.

I’d feel luckier if someone would tell me about Logan. The bastard...my friend...a lump forms in my throat...I saw blood.

I raise my hand to my head. The tubing of the IV line rubs against my forearm.

“You shouldn’t touch it.”

With the sight of her, my stomach twists to the point that the doctor may have to rethink internal injuries. “I’m not in the fucking mood, Beth.”

A chair scrapes against the floor, causing the pounding in my head to increase. “We could be twins,” she says. “I’ve got a nice-size scar over my eye, too.”

I drop my arm and stare at the girl I had thought I loved since I was fourteen. When I met her, she had straight black hair and an attitude that scared the shit out of bikers. The prickly disposition Beth used to carry as a physical shield no longer drapes her aura. There’s a peacefulness that surrounds her that I never noticed in all our years together.

“You got your scar because you wouldn’t listen,” I say.

Beth flashes her patented sarcastic grin. “Twenty dollars I’ll find out the same thing about you.”

Back in October, I stood in this same hospital waiting to hear if she was alive. Her mother’s boyfriend tried to kill Beth. Her boyfriend, Ryan, saved her. Once I heard she was fine, I left. Beth obviously doesn’t live by the same policy.

“How did you know I was here?”

“Shirley and Dale.”

My foster parents—her aunt and uncle. They stopped in a half hour ago. They were part pissed I interrupted their long weekend at the lake, part pissed that my social worker is now up their ass and even more pissed I hurt myself. Who knew the two of them gave a slight shit.

“How’s Logan?” I ask.

The peacefulness fades from her face. “We don’t know. They took his dad straight back and he hasn’t been out since. No one will tell us a thing. Ryan’s going nuts.”

I place a fist to my forehead. “I’ve fucked it all up. If something’s wrong with him...”

I could never forgive myself.

Beth places a hand over mine and squeezes. “He’s an adrenaline junkie. We all know it. If it wasn’t with you, it would have been with someone else at some other time. At least you were there. At least you could call the police. You can’t fix everything.”

“You don’t know how deep I’m in.”

“No, I don’t. Because we’re not friends anymore.”

“Not the time.”

“I love you, Isaiah. I always have, but I’ve never been in love with you. Both of us were so damn fucked in the head that neither of us understood the difference between friendship and love. We’re friends. We always have been. I know you know what I mean because Logan’s told me about Rachel.”

My eyes snap to hers and Beth waves me off. “He never betrayed you. I annoyed the hell out of him until he told me, and all he would say was that you look at Rachel like Ryan looks at me. In all the years we knew each other, you never looked at me like that.”

Beth opens her mouth to continue, but I cut her off. “I know.”

“You do?”

I return Beth’s grip. “You let me take care of you.”

She raises an eyebrow, highlighting the scar above her eye. “So?”

“Rachel doesn’t. She always wants to take care of herself. Drives me crazy.”

Beth laughs. “Then it must be love. I drive Ryan insane.”

There’s an ache that goes deeper than the physical wounds of my skin. “I really did care for you.” Beth’s right—I didn’t love her, at least not in the way I love Rachel, but it doesn’t negate the fact that I had feelings, even if she didn’t return them.