“Wasn’t, but I did it anyhow.”

“I borrowed two thousand dollars from my brothers’ parents.” Noah jumps in, possibly to stop my anger at Logan from accelerating. Noah’s a proud guy, and that type of gesture had to kill his soul. “To cover rent for the semester. I hoped to buy us enough time until you got a job where you could support yourself. The money is yours.”

An understanding passes between us. If I accept the money, Noah moves into the dorms and I return to foster care. “It’s not enough.”

“More than half,” says Logan. “We still have that seven hundred.”

“Fine, twenty-seven hundred, but we’re still short.”

“I’ve got five hundred saved to buy a car,” says Beth. She winks at Ryan. “You’ll have to drive me around longer.”

Before I can tell her no Logan says, “Thirty-two hundred.”

Noah stretches his arms out to his sides. “And we race for the rest.”

We’ve entered the land of fantasy. “With what? Your piece of shit couldn’t beat a Yugo.”

Echo crosses the room and curls around Noah. “No, but I bet a ’65 ’Vette could.”

“No, Echo.” The Corvette belonged to her brother. It’s the only memory she has left of him. “The car is vintage and worth more than my sorry ass. Racing it could burn out the engine.”

“Could,” she says. “But Noah would win first. We can always fix the car. You’ve done it before.”

No. I shift my gaze to Noah. “Eric will find out that you helped. He’ll mark both you and Echo.”

A dangerous shadow crosses Noah’s face as he holds Echo tighter. “I can take care of what’s mine. Besides, Eric will back off once he’s paid.”

He may not be wary of Eric, but I am. I’m not sure I can allow the target on his back. I glance at the clock on the microwave. “I’ve got to get Rachel home in time for curfew. I’ll drive her car, but I need someone to follow to bring me home.”

“I’ll do it,” says Abby.

“You don’t have a car,” I say.

“I told Tom about the accident. He’s going to let you use one of his cars until you get your Mustang working again. I’ll get it, then meet you at Rachel’s.”

“Fine.”

Abby leaves and a second later I follow. She stalls near the front entrance, waiting for me to join her. “I know what you’re thinking, Isaiah, and I think you’re wrong.”

I place my hand over the door handle, keeping her there. “What exactly am I thinking?”

“The same thing I think when I look in the mirror every morning—that’s the face of someone living in pissed-off desperation.”

“A few weeks ago you wanted me to steal. A thousand dollars a car. I could make the money in one night and have Rachel on my arm by morning, remember?”

Abby rubs her hands over her face. “That was before.”

“Before what?”

“Before I met Rachel. Before she became my friend. Before I saw how happy she made you. Before I saw that you could be like Noah and get out of this part of town. You got your certification, a job waiting after graduation and a girl who loves you. If you steal those cars...” She stares at her feet. “It’ll change you. Once you go down that road, there’s no going back.”

Abby hates selling drugs, but she’s stuck. Her family has seen to that. So has her employer. “I’ll be in and then right back out,” I say.

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that. You’ll be owned. Not as bad as if Eric owns you, but they’ll always hold what you’ve done over your head. You’ll never be free.”

I’m not free. The future I once dreamed of has crumbled into dust. “I don’t care about my freedom anymore. This is about Rachel.”

The door upstairs opens and closes. Rachel appears at the top of the stairs. I’ve got thirty-two hundred in seed money and only one night to race. If I take everyone up on their offer, I’ll go back to foster care and Noah and Echo will have targets painted on their backs. I would be wreaking all this damage in the hope I can win at the dragway.

Rachel holds tightly to the banister. Yeah, Abby’s employer will own me, but Rachel will be safe. “Make the deal, Abby.”

Chapter 66

Rachel

ISAIAH PARKS MY CAR A block from the security gate of my neighborhood. Headlights flash behind us as Abby follows his lead. Her lights turn off, indicating that she’s granting us time.

We’ve been silent—Isaiah and I. Not that silence is unusual between us, but it’s never been so heavy. We’re both angry, hurt. I’ll admit to being scared. “We’re not going to make the money, are we?”

“Eric will be paid off this weekend,” he says. “What happened tonight, the panic attack, that’s been going on for a while, hasn’t it?”

The unspoken accusation that I’ve lied to him slices like a knife. I rest my head on the back of the seat. “How are we coming up with the money?”

“You vomited blood,” he says, ignoring me. “I’m not talking about anything until we discuss this.”

“Isaiah—”

“You vomited blood,” he repeats.

“I know.”

“Rachel...you need help.”

I laugh and it’s the same bitter laugh I remember him giving when we met so many weeks ago. “So do you.”

“I love you.” Isaiah says it so simply that my heart soars and sinks at the same time.

“I love you,” I whisper. “Did you ever think that loving someone could hurt so bad?”

Isaiah shakes his head and stares out the window.

“What’s going to happen to us?” I ask. Because I don’t know how the two of us can continue forward. Isaiah refuses to let me in. It’s sort of cruel. He’s brought me close with his stories of his childhood and with his words of love, but he can’t relinquish control. I refuse to be with someone who won’t treat me as an equal.

Isaiah clears his throat. “I failed the ASE.”

Dread washes over me. “You said you passed....”

“They accused me of cheating so they failed me. Once Pro Performance finds out, I’ll lose the internship and the job. I have nothing left to offer you.”

I grow numb as my mind races to understand. “Why would they think you cheated? I mean, there’s no way you would, so why would anyone else think it?”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s over.”

“It’s not. You can retake it. Prove to them that you know everything about cars.”

His hands hover over the wheel as if he wants to hit it, but he doesn’t. Instead he slowly lowers his palms to the leather covering. “It’s over. The certification. The job. The hope we could pay Eric off by racing.”

“I’m going to race Zach.” It’s the only way. “And I don’t need your permission to do it.”

Isaiah slams his hand against the steering wheel and I flinch. “With what, Rachel? Our seven hundred? Let’s say you win, we’re still down over three thousand dollars. We tried and we failed. Playing by the rules is no longer an option.”

“Then we’ll take on more races. I’ll race Zach more than once. He said money wasn’t a problem—”

“Because he’s betting Eric’s money.”

My face whips as if I’ve been smacked. “What did you say?”

“Zach’s working for Eric.”

There’s a disorientation like I’m having an out-of-body experience. He’s known this and he hasn’t told me.

“I’m going to steal cars to make the money to pay Eric.” There’s no mistaking the determination in his voice or the set of his jaw. He’s made his decision, and nothing I can say will change his mind. I open the door to the car.

“Rachel,” Isaiah pleads.

I pause, long enough to give him the opportunity to apologize for keeping the secret. To tell me that I misheard about stealing the cars.

“Even if it wasn’t the case, we’d need to race Friday and Saturday night. Are you going to walk away from your mom’s charity event to race? Just give me time to fix this and then—”

“Then what?” I snap. When Isaiah says nothing, I point at his door. “Get out of my car.”

With a click of the handle he does, and he meets me in front of the hood. Without looking at him, I reach into my coat, extract his lighter and hold it out to him.