I don’t want to hear his words, not yet, so I ask, “Your car?”

His head drops as he presses his hands to his face. “Totaled.”

Pain for him, pain for me, rips at my heart. Another tear escapes. The car was his—a part of his soul. The sorrow he must feel—there has to be a better word than mourning.

Yearning to touch him, longing to comfort him, my fingers instinctively brush against his temple. Isaiah takes my hand and knots our fingers together, squeezing a little too tight. “This is why I didn’t want the system in your car.”

We’re back to this—so easily. His words are a sandblaster against my soul, decimating my insides, crushing my bones, leaving me as a completely empty shell. “Because your car, your life, is worth less?”

“Yes,” he answers with stubborn resolve.

The hospital doors open, and Beth steps onto the sidewalk. My throat thickens, and the warning contortion of my stomach tells me my time is up. I yank my hand from his. “She’s waiting for you.”

He glances over his shoulder, and I take advantage by fleeing. Quickly. Turning into the maze of cars. Hoping to disappear. Words fly in my head—all related, yet not; all tangible, yet slipping through my fingers: Eric and debt and Isaiah and love and Beth and strength and weakness...

And my mother and my brothers and my father and Colleen...

All of us dominoes on a board where one event results in chaos. One tip of a piece and everything scatters. There’s no control. Like everyone else, I’m a piece to be overturned. I will never control my destiny.

My hand grabs at my coat, jerking it off as heat consumes me and chokes my neck. At the intersection of four parked cars, I fall to my knees and convulse with the first dry heave. Searing pain cuts through my throat and I become light-headed.

“Rachel!” Isaiah lifts me upright, wiping my hair from my face.

“No hospital.” They can’t know...they can’t know...they can’t... “Promise they won’t know....”

My stomach cramps, and I roll away from him with the blast of heat rushing through my body.

“Jesus!” Isaiah scrambles beside me. “There’s blood.”

Chapter 65

Isaiah

PROMISE THEY WON’T KNOW...

Craving a physical connection, I slide my finger along the back of Rachel’s hand. She’s asleep. Has been for a while. Curled in the fetal position in the middle of my bed, Rachel wears the mask of a ravaged person. Somehow, I missed the signs: dark circles under her eyes, the clothes that once fit perfectly now hang, her skin so pale it’s translucent.

Rachel told me she had attacks, that she ended up in the hospital once, and that she hides them from her family. I never thought to ask if she was concealing them from me.

Her eyes press tightly in her sleep, and she flinches as she swallows. I wish she’d sleep deeply, but she doesn’t. Staying restless, Rachel turns her head. I tuck the blanket back around her, whispering for her to rest.

“Isaiah,” Abby says softly from the doorway. “Everyone’s here.”

I nod and Abby slips behind the door. Everyone being here would be Noah’s doing, not mine. He found us—me cradling a broken Rachel in my arms—and drove us home. Took everything I had not to rush Rachel into the E.R., but she made me promise not to. I’ve never considered going back on my word as much as I do right now.

The world is stacked against Rachel and me. The money is due this weekend. We’re down a car and we aren’t even close to the amount. Rachel’s body is worn, her spirit drowning. If we don’t pay off this debt, a nightmare will visit us both. Eric will come after me and he’ll hurt her. My fingers ball into a fist. I’ll die before I let that happen.

A rustle of sheets, then soft fingers glide against mine. I glance at Rachel and meet glazed-over blue eyes. The spark is gone, taking the violet hue along with it.

“How are you?” I ask, and focus on not demanding why the hell she’s kept all this from me. We’ll have the conversation, but not in this moment.

“Okay,” she says in a hoarse, cracked voice. “I’m sorry.”

I shake my head, not wanting her apology. “Me, too.” I lace my fingers with hers. “Why did you run from me?”

“I saw you hug Beth,” she croaks.

“I love you. Not anyone else.”

“I know. I’m sorry. My head got messed up. I was worried about you and we had a fight and I didn’t know if you were alive and when I saw you two together...” Rachel lets the words trail off. “Beth’s strong.”

“So are you,” I say.

“You don’t think that.”

“Fuck that,” I snap, then close my eyes to rein in my temper. I suck in a breath before reopening them. “I do think that. Most girls I know would be lying under a bed in the fetal position after living a day with Eric on their backs. You’ve stood strong the entire time.”

“Except now.”

I’m shaking my head again. “Everyone has a breaking point, and I’d lay odds this isn’t Eric.” But I won’t go near a conversation about her family. “Your body may need a break, but your spirit is still strong.”

“I bet this wouldn’t happen to Beth.”

“No, it wouldn’t, because Beth always ran.”

Rachel blinks.

“Beth was always a runner. She may have stood in place, but she always hid behind the wall she built, and if that didn’t work, she ran to a guy, to drugs, to anywhere other than where she should have been, to forget. You and Beth—you’re night and day.”

“If you really think that then let me race Zach.” Her voice breaks, leaving her only able to whisper. “Let me bet the seven hundred and race him. I’d do it without you, but he already said that he won’t race me without your permission because he doesn’t want to mess with you.”

The muscles in my jaw contract. “Is that all he said?”

She winces. “He’d also race me if I broke up with you. But ignore that. Isaiah, we’re already in trouble. If I win, then we try to double the fourteen hundred, and then we try to double again. Let me help dig us out of this hole.”

Rachel’s so pale I can see the veins beneath her skin. She could win. Rachel’s been practicing. Stolen moments between us in abandoned parking lots. All she lacked was experience and confidence. My angel has both now. Even with her body defying her, she’s a force of nature.

But what if the race Zach’s offering isn’t innocent? What if his association with Eric drags her in deeper? Not able to see the angle he’s playing, I can’t take the risk.

“Everyone’s waiting on me,” I say as a cop-out. “Let me talk to them.”

She casts her eyes down. “We won’t work if you never trust me to be strong enough.”

I kiss her forehead. “It has nothing to do with trust or strength.” But with keeping her safe. “Rest. You can’t do anything if you don’t sleep.”

I close the door to the bedroom behind me and freeze when I assess the room. All eyes fall on me. Echo and Abby lean against the kitchen counter. Noah stands near the couch. Ryan and Beth sit next to Logan, who has his bum leg propped on the old coffee table.

“I thought you were out,” I say to Logan. “And you were with your dad.”

“Dad works third shift,” he replies. “He asked Ryan to take me home. I’m out of driving. Doesn’t mean my mind stopped working.”

Ryan snorts. “That’s up for debate.” I throw him a questioning glare, and he earns a little respect when he doesn’t look away.

“Beth and Logan see something in you,” he says. “But know if you hurt either one of them again, I’ll kick your ass.”

Fair enough. “Noted. But good luck with that.”

“Now that the pissing contest is over,” says Abby, “how’s Rachel?”

I shrug. Rachel wouldn’t want her business discussed.

“Abby and I told them everything,” Logan says, unrepentant. “In detail.”

“Wasn’t your place.” Embarrassment thinly disguised as anger seeps into my tone.