Crash Into You

Chapter 39

Isaiah

THE GODS ARE ON OUR side. The weather’s warm—upper fifties—with clear skies predicted for this Saturday night. With my hip cocked against Rachel’s car, I assess the Camaro pulling beside me in the waiting lane behind the grandstand. The big-ass dragsters are having their turn in the lanes. Next will be the street cars.

Rachel stands near the hood petting her car like the pony it is. “Promise you won’t wreck.”

“I’ll take care of your car.”

“Isaiah, I’m worried about you.”

About me? My heart stalls in my chest. Rachel, Logan and I checked out a few races before we signed in and unfortunately, we witnessed a wreck. No one hurt, but it totaled the cars. Rachel’s face faded into an unnatural shade of white when an older guy mumbled how the rules enforced at the track were written by the blood of other generations. Since then, when Rachel’s watched the races, I think all she sees are ghosts.

I meet her violet eyes. “I’ll be okay, Rachel.”

She lowers her head, raises it, then lets it fall back. I can’t read her very well and I wish I could. “What’s going on in your head?” I ask.

Rachel sucks in a breath to answer right as the driver of the Camaro slides out. Doing what I asked of her earlier when a possible bet came into the picture, she walks straight for the grandstands. Her long hair swings forward, hiding her face. My legs twitch with the desire to follow her, kiss her and ask what’s wrong.

When Rachel arrived at the garage yesterday, she was one hundred percent with me, but by the time I finished her car, she became distant again. I’ll dig for the issues tonight. Now I need to focus and win us money.

I glance behind me at Logan. He’s already deep in conversation with his competition: a Dodge Charger. That’ll be a nice race for Logan. That driver always jumps the green light.

The Camaro driver appreciates Rachel’s car. “When did you upgrade?”

He may not know my name, but he recognizes me by my old car. I’m the same with him. “This week.”

“Still think you can take me?” he asks.

“Easily.”

He nods to his car. “I’ve made some updates, too.”

“Not concerned.”

Just as I hoped, he produces a wad of cash from his pocket. “Then you won’t mind putting money on the table.”

No. I wouldn’t.