Chapter 43

Isaiah

THE CLOCK ON THE SCREEN flashes as it hits the one-minute mark. I finished the test fifteen minutes ago, but I review my answers repeatedly. This is my future, and there is no room for mistakes. In less than sixty seconds, I’ll have earned my ASE certification.

The computer freezes—time’s up. What had been a silent room becomes noisy as the other guys from class who took the “field trip” to the testing center relax back in their seats and talk to one another.

“Isaiah,” Zach calls. “How’d you do?”

“Okay.” I kicked ass.

“Good.” He leaves his buddies and rests his hip against the half cubicle wall meant to dissuade cheating. “Did Rachel tell you about my proposal?”

“I don’t think you need to be proposing anything to my girl.” The area between my skin and muscles vibrates. Rachel didn’t tell me crap, but I won’t let Zach know that. I plaster a deadpan look on my face, stretch out my legs so that Zach has to move and angle my arms so that he sees my tats.

Zach takes a wise step away. “Just trying to help. Heard you need money and you know I’ll match any wager.”

“If you want to race me, you come to me. Not to Rachel.”

He becomes a cocky prick when he smiles. “I don’t want to race you. I want to race her.”

My legs fold in as I lean forward. Zach nearly trips over himself as he stumbles back. “She’s not racing.” An eerie silence hangs in the room as everyone watches the showdown.

After a few seconds of me staring and Zach saying nothing, the room returns to normal.

“Money is money,” mutters Zach. “Who cares who drives?”

I whisper so only he can hear, “I’m not racing for ten bucks. I’ve made serious money so I’m betting serious money.”

He glances around to verify everyone else has returned to their business. “I’m making serious money now. I’ll match whatever you got.”

I stare straight at him and, like always, Zach averts his eyes. Zach comes from a broken home, and they’ve always lived on the edge of government assistance. There’s no way this asshole fell into money this fast without playing with the devil. “Tell me you haven’t become Eric’s bitch.”

Zach nervously laughs, but before he can try to deny it, I hook a foot around the chair next to me and shove it into his legs. “Sit.”

He looks around, trying to save face, but sits anyway. Once upon a time, he and I could have been considered friends and because of that, I give him this break. “You and I both know that Eric’s bad shit. If you’ve fallen in, maybe I can help you out.”

Zach bows his head as he pulls his legs under the chair. “He just wants Rachel to race me. That’s it.”

Fuck me. My fingers tighten into fists. “He wants Rachel and me to fail.”

His head snaps up. “You’re seeing this all wrong. Eric wants to help us. He said if the two of us work for him then he can pay us cash. Real cash. Not the minimum wage we’re going to end up with after we graduate. We’ll be kings, Isaiah. Not the trash we are now.”

I kick the wall between us and the keyboard falls to the floor. “Eric owns you now.”

“Not own. He’s helping me, just like he wants to help you.”

Before I can ask how the hell he’s become so delusional he believes any of that shit, Mr. Holden enters the room. “Test results are in. I’ll call you out one at a time to go over the results. Isaiah, let’s go.”

My heart thrashes and I stand, trying to control the anger. I lean down and whisper the threat. “Stay the fuck away from Rachel.”

“You can’t touch me,” Zach replies.

Since he’s under Eric, maybe not, but Eric’s underestimating what I would do to keep Rachel safe.

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