Katie McGarry - Crash Into You

“No, it belongs to the person you pay off to keep you and your family safe.” Eric makes a show of glancing over both of his shoulders before leaning into Abby. His nose nearly touches hers. “And I don’t see him here.”

She doesn’t flinch. A creepy smile eases onto her face as she tosses her hair so she can stare him straight in the eye. “One phone call, Eric, and it’ll be raining fire and brimstone.”

If I didn’t know better, I would have thought fear flashed in his eyes. “You’d let Isaiah be caught in the crosshairs? I don’t think so.” Eric switches his sights to me. “How’s it going with my money?”

“Fine.” I rub my arms. The skin crawls as he invades my personal space. He’s so close that I smell his breath.

“Word on the street is that you might make deadline,” he breathes out as his eyes linger near my chest.

I cross my arms, trying to hide what he’s focusing on. Adrenaline begins to leak into my bloodstream, and I silently pray for Isaiah to stride back into the door. Isaiah can fix this. He knows how to make me feel safe.

“Don’t let him get to you,” Abby says. “He’s like those damn annoying dogs always starved for attention and begging for scraps at the table. It’s best to pretend he doesn’t exist.”

“Watch your mouth,” he mutters.

“You’re pathetic and transparent. Isaiah won’t fall for your intimidation shit, which is why I’m guessing you’re here.”

Eric tears his eyes away from Abby and this time stares at my lips. “How close are you really to paying me off? We could make a deal. You do something for me and I’ll provide a discount for you.”

Abby appears at my side. “Step back, Eric.”

He smirks. “Or what, Abby? You gonna jack up the prices on the drugs you sell? I’m aware of the service charge reserved only for me. You need to start rethinking your business practices.”

My head jerks and Abby falters. Our eyes meet and her calm, cold facade cracks.

Eric laughs. “She didn’t know that you’re a drug dealer, did she?”

When Abby says nothing, Eric inches closer. I inch to the side, but Eric follows. Without thinking, I trapped myself against a wall. I don’t like how Eric looks at me. The panic begins to claw at my chest and I swallow. I need to stay in control.

“Did you know that Isaiah is an addict? Uses like the rest of us street rats.” His eyes wander up, then down. “What kind of currency are you paying Isaiah to take on this debt? Not cash, I’m guessing.”

Eric raises his hand and all the air squeezes out of my lungs. I gasp right as he moves to touch my skin. He can’t touch me. I won’t let him. My hands thrust out and I push at his chest.

Anger explodes in his dark, soulless eyes. He grabs my wrist, slamming it over my head into the concrete wall. I scream.

Abby screams.

And with my free hand I’m hitting and kicking and so is Abby and suddenly...

He’s gone.

The world spins, and I can’t find my bearings. There’s more yelling and more voices. Gravity overtakes me as I can’t inhale. Abby appears in front of me—dark eyes and hair. “Rachel!”

Abby is free of Eric. We both are. I grab her, still struggling for air, and drag both of us as I stumble into the office. I need to make sure we’re safe—me and Abby. She’s my friend and I can’t leave her behind.

She says things, things I don’t understand, and she strokes my hair while she talks. I can’t breathe. I can’t.

She disappears and in her place are gray storm clouds. “Breathe, angel. Come on.”

Isaiah. I wrap my arms around him, and he holds me—tightly. I listen to his heart: the steady beat, the steady pace, and within a few seconds I start to match his breathing. I inhale deeply one more time. “Isaiah.”

He cups my face and forces me to meet his eyes. “Are you okay?”

I nod. “Eric?”

“Is gone,” says Logan from the doorway of the office.

Isaiah helps me walk back into the garage. Logan’s right. It’s only the four of us. With her shoulders hunched, Abby stands beside Logan. She lifts her head only to share a wary glance with him, then Isaiah, but not me.

“What’s wrong?” I ask. Because I can feel it. A heaviness that wasn’t here before.

Isaiah swears under his breath. “I’m sorry.”

I hate the prickling in my stomach, a sensation foretelling doom. “For what?”

“I hit him. Eric. I came in and saw the two of you fighting him off, and I hit him. Hard.”

“Good.” I mean it. If I could have socked him in the jaw and caused the bastard to bleed then I would have, but I’m not that strong.

“You don’t hit Eric.” Abby nudges her foot at the concrete. “Not without repercussions.”

My stomach cramps. “Is he going to hurt you?” No, please no. My hands flutter near Isaiah’s face, terrified of Eric hurting him. “I’ll apologize. I’ll...I’ll...” I have no idea what to do.

Isaiah takes my hands. “He moved up the due date. We have to pay him in one week.”

My head becomes light and I sway. Isaiah places his hands on my waist to steady me.

“It’s unexpected,” he says. “But not impossible. We’re close to the total. Let’s race tonight, count our winnings and see where we stand.”

Okay. He’s right. Plus Isaiah would never lie. “All right.”

“Abby!” Logan calls out. “Where’re you going?”

With her hands in her pockets, Abby walks away from the garage. Isaiah holds on when I move to go after her. “I’m okay,” I tell him. “I need to talk to her.”

Isaiah releases me, but keeps his arm near my elbow in case I drop. “Abby!”

She continues to walk away and I quicken my pace. “Abby!”

Abby stops on the sidewalk and doesn’t turn around. I slow as I approach and think of Eric’s words and Abby’s description of her job. She’s a drug dealer.

A drug dealer. My first real girlfriend is a drug dealer. My entire world feels upside down and sideways; yanked inside out then pulled back out again. With new eyes, I look at Abby. She’s exactly the same as before: black hoodie, braver-than-I-could-ever-be jeans and long brown hair. She’s a beautiful girl—a mystery to me, and bold, but what I’ve never seen is how seventeen she appears. How...young, like me.

She’s what I should hate in the world, yet she’s come to be someone I love.

“Thanks,” I say.

She flips her hair over her shoulder. “For what?”

“For helping me with Eric.”

“He’s an asshole.”

“Yes. He is.” I hesitate. Eric called Isaiah an addict. He called her a drug dealer. Drug dealers are bad and Abby isn’t. She’s good. “Why?”

She shrugs, not even pretending she doesn’t know what I mean. “I inherited a mess, and someday, I’m not going to do this anymore. But right now, there are problems with my family and I’m the only one who can fix them.”

I understand inheriting a mess. My birthright is to make up for Colleen’s death and as for family problems, I understand those, too. “Can you come with us tonight? It gets lonely sitting in the stands by myself.”

Abby stares at me blankly, as if she never heard me speak. “I don’t use the drugs. I swear to God I’m clean. And I never bring them around you.”

“I believe you.”

She narrows her eyes. “Why?”

Because she stands by me. Because I think she loves me like I love her. “Because we’re friends.”

Abby smiles. “I knew there was a reason I chose you to be my best friend.”

Is it strange that that just made me incredibly happy? “Me, too.”

Abby and I both take interest in anything else but each other. I think this whole friend thing is completely new to both of us. From the open bay of the garage, Isaiah watches us with his hands shoved in his pockets. Logan stands right behind him. They’re a strange combo, but so are Abby and I.

There’s so much I thought I understood, but that’s not the truth. I avoid issues more than I try to understand. “Abby?” Deep breath. “Does Isaiah use drugs?”

She tucks her hair behind her ear again. “I think you should talk to him.”

It’s as if my soul became too heavy for my heart. That’s a conversation I don’t want to have.

Isaiah

RACHEL’S LIGHT FOOTFALLS CAUSE THE wooden stairs to groan. “Seven hundred dollars. If you asked me two weeks ago if we could make seven hundred dollars in one week, I would have said yes, but after tonight...I don’t know.”

As predicted, we found plenty of guys willing to race us, but not as many who were willing to place bets. I carry her overnight bag in one hand and hold her fingers with the other. “Logan and I knew that this could be a problem. But I think we can make seven hundred in the next week. It’ll be tight, but it will happen.”

She continues to stare at the floor as we walk to my apartment. “I could hock more of my jewelry, but Mom figured out I got rid of one of the pieces. I told her I lost it. I’m not sure if she’ll continue to buy the excuse if I ‘lose’ any more.”

I let go of her hand, unlock the door and push it open. She enters first, flipping on the light as she goes. I love how she feels comfortable here.

“It feels hopeless,” she says. “Like we get two steps forward and take a trillion back.”

I can’t help but smile. Rachel does this sometimes—wallows, but I don’t mind. It never lasts long, and she’s usually repentant when she’s done.

“Do you trust me?” I ask as I close the door and lock the dead bolt.

Rachel blinks and the crimson on her cheeks tells me she snapped out of wallowing. “Yes.”

“Then you know that when I say I’m going to fix something, I do. On my life, Rachel, Eric will be paid back in a week.”