Katie McGarry - Crash Into You

It’s frightening seeing Eric. At the drag race he fit in, but here, among guys who wear white shirts and ties to school, he looks...terrifying. He’s tall, blond, and his body is more bones than muscle, like this skinny man I saw once in a drug prevention video. My heart quickens its pace. Why is he here? How does he know my name?

“Rachel Young,” he says again. “You have something of mine.”

My head shakes back and forth and then I wonder if it’s my body shaking. “I don’t have anything of yours.”

He tips a hand to his ear. “What was that? I didn’t hear you. You should speak up.”

The smile on his face says he’s mocking me, but I don’t know why. I’ve done nothing to him.

Eric invades my personal space and I beg my feet to move. Instead, I become stone embedded in the ground. My breath comes out faster and I can’t draw in enough air to compensate for the loss. He reaches in my direction and touches my hair. His hand is ashy, cracked in spots, and I want so badly for him to disappear.

“You’re pretty,” he says. My gold hair falls from his fingers like rain. “And you played the innocent act well. I bought it then, but I won’t buy it now. Give me my fucking money or I’ll have my boys put you in the hospital.”

My voice trembles. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit!” he snaps. His anger gives me the courage to stumble back.

He advances on me with his hand waving in the air. “The cops can’t touch me. Your parents can’t touch me. But I can touch you. The only thing that will stop that from happening is if you give me my money.”

The world spins and all the thoughts in my head jumble together. I can’t breathe. I can’t. Instinctively, my arms wrap around my stomach as I sway.

Rough hands grab my face and all I see are eyes with no soul. “Hell no. You’re not going down. Give me my money or tell me where it is.”

My stomach lurches and a high-pitched buzzing washes away his voice. I can’t think. I can’t breathe. Eric tightens his hold on my chin, creating pain, making me unable to open my mouth for air. He’s going to crush my skull.

My airways no longer work. Small lights flutter in the periphery, and Eric’s mouth moves as if he’s yelling. I can’t hear him over the loud humming in my head. I close my eyes. A hand clamps on my shoulder and shakes me as if I’m a doll. The buzzing shifts into roaring.

The pressure on my chin, on my shoulder, disappears—leaving me floating in nothing until gravity forces me to the ground. I crumple—gasping. I convulse with the dry heaves. Blood pounds at every pressure point. I retch forward and place my hands on the cold blacktop to keep my face from hitting the loose rocks.

I suck in air and the sound is a wheeze. I draw air in again, lift my head, and through disoriented tunnel vision I spot a shadow throwing Eric against my car. Someone has come for me. A savior.

He turns and I know those eyes. Isaiah. “Rachel!”

I sit back on my knees and waver when a fresh flash of dizziness disorients me.

With a fist curled into the material of Eric’s coat and an arm shoved into his windpipe, Isaiah slams Eric into my car. “What the fuck did you do to her?”

Eric speaks as if he, too, is having trouble breathing. “Make your move, my brother. But if you do, you better kill me because you will not like my retaliation.”

Lifetimes stretch as Isaiah stares into Eric’s eyes. With a final push, Isaiah releases him. “Stay away from her.”

Eric smooths out his shirt and readjusts his coat. He leans into Isaiah. “I am not your enemy. That girl—” he points at me “—stole what’s mine. Stop thinking with your dick and get your head in the game. That was your money, too.”

The staring continues and Eric glances away first. Isaiah rounds on me, and I fall back onto my bottom in terror. This isn’t the guy who protected me in the bar and kissed me in his apartment. Like a thundercloud racing across the sky, he’s massive, strong, and he’s moving my way. The muscles in his arms ripple as he stalks.

My breath continues to pump in and out in shallow intervals. Isaiah crouches next to me. His eyes a gray storm; his expression cold, flat. “Rachel.”

I don’t remember his voice sounding gruff. I don’t remember him being this frightening.

He lifts his hand and hesitates when I shudder. His lips press together in a line. “He will pay for touching you.”

Several feet behind Isaiah, Eric calls out, “Whenever you’re ready to discuss this situation, I’ll be standing right here.”

My eyes dart behind Isaiah’s shoulder, but Isaiah shifts so that he fills my line of sight. “I’ve got you, Rachel. You need to trust me.”

Trust him. His eyes soften to liquid silver, and for the first time I can inhale a lungful of air. And I smell him: his calming scent of spices. Isaiah did scare me before—when I first met him, but then he saved me, like he’s doing now.

I nod and Isaiah caresses my cheek. His fingers are warm against my freezing skin.

“I need you strong, okay?” he whispers. “Eric thrives off of weakness. I need you to stand and let me handle this.”

I lick my dry lips and test my voice. “He said I have his money.” He said he’s going to hurt me. “I don’t understand.”

Isaiah places his finger over my lips. My heart stutters. It’s a calming touch, yet equally strong. “I know. I’ll fix everything.”

He didn’t call. It’s what I want to say, but for now, I accept Isaiah’s offered hand and rise on trembling legs.

Isaiah partially obstructs Eric’s view of me and crosses his arms over his chest. I let the fingers of my right hand rest on his left shoulder blade. Isaiah peeks at me and tilts his head to let me know that my touch is welcomed. I exhale in relief. I need this connection. I need his strength.

“You want to talk, Eric,” says Isaiah. “Let’s talk.”

In a sloppy posture, Eric leans to the left with his hands in his jeans pockets. “Her boys fingered her yesterday. They said she was involved in the robbery and that she has my money.”

I open my mouth to protest, but a glare from Isaiah instills silence. “Those weren’t her boys and she wasn’t involved.”

“She showed with them.”

“And they abandoned her when the cops came. Rachel and I had to fly through the back alleys to keep from getting caught. She stuck her neck out for me. I owe her a debt.”

That obviously wasn’t news Eric was prepared to hear. He scratches his jaw. “You owe her a debt?”

“Yes,” says Isaiah simply.

A wan smile slants Eric’s lips. “You never owe people.”

Becoming a statue, Isaiah says nothing in return. My fingers relax so that my palm connects with his back. Even through his shirt, my hand soaks in his warmth and energy. I focus on the steady movement of his breathing. In...and out. In...and out. A rhythm that shows no fear.

“They stole five thousand dollars from me,” says Eric. “And I want it back. I don’t care who pays for it or how. No one steals from me, and that message needs to be public.”

“Send a message all you want, but leave Rachel out of it.”

Eric advances on Isaiah. Isaiah never moves as Eric shoves a finger in his face. “She showed with them, and they made me look like a fool! No one makes me look like a fool!”

The finger slowly descends, but Eric stays in Isaiah’s face. Isaiah’s expression never changes: one long, continuous stone-cold glare. “No one looks at you as a fool. Everyone on the street has heard how you put those college boys in the hospital. No one doubts your strength.”

“It’s not enough,” Eric snarls.

“I think tire irons and baseball bats against skin is convincing to everyone.”

Eric backs away from Isaiah and glances at me. “Is she yours?”

Isaiah remains silent.

Eric slides to the side, acting as if he’ll skirt around Isaiah in order to be close to me, but he halts the moment Isaiah speaks. “Go near her and you’ll join those boys in the hospital.”

Dangerous—both of them are. But Isaiah would scare me more if he wasn’t protecting me. My eyes dart between them. The two males before me are barely civilized animals fighting for dominance and control.

Eric regards Isaiah. “She showed with them so people think she was involved. If I don’t act on her then people will believe that I have a weakness. She won’t go unpunished. If she gives me my money, I’ll wipe her slate clean. My decision is made. Short of killing me, Isaiah, you aren’t changing my mind.”

“If she doesn’t pay?” asks Isaiah.

Eric flashes a smile full of teeth. “She is pretty.”

I swallow a dry heave and slap a hand over my mouth.

A muscle in Isaiah’s jaw tics. “I’ll take on her debt.”

Isaiah

MY STOMACH BOTTOMS OUT WITH the last words I said: I’ll take on her debt. Five thousand dollars or Eric will own me for life. Hell, with those words, he owns me now.

I risk breaking eye contact with Eric for a brief second to observe my surroundings. His threat to me earlier, that I either kill him or walk away, indicated he wasn’t alone. Sure enough, back in the main parking lot, two of his most trusted guards watch.

Eric laughs, yet I find nothing funny. “Isn’t this a strange turn of events. Isaiah Walker, the guy who owes nobody nothing, takes on a debt for a girl.”

“Isaiah?”

I close my eyes at the sound of my name from Rachel’s mouth. She wants reassurance, and I can’t console her. Not with Eric inspecting my every movement. He already knows I care about Rachel, and that’s bad for both of us. She just became a liability.

I try to repress any thoughts of Rachel: her beauty, her kindness, how frightened she was when I found her. Emotions are evil. Ice water needs to flow in my veins. “No girl should face your wrath.”

“Yeah,” Eric says in mock disbelief. “You’re selling yourself to me so I won’t hit a girl. Sell your shit someplace else.”

This situation hovers between dangerous and deadly. Eric will use her against me if he realizes Rachel’s more than someone I owe. He’ll keep me as a dog on a chain, wielding her as a weapon. I can’t do that to myself. Dammit. I can’t do that to her. Because, God help us both, I do care. “She means nothing. I owe her a debt for saving me, and like you said yourself, I don’t owe debts.”

Her hand drops from my back and I hear her sharp intake of air. Eric’s observant eyes catch her reaction, and he’s discovered a new person to toy with. “So she was a fuck.”

I’ve had enough of this. “When’s the money due?”

“Now.”

Even if Rachel did have five thousand dollars, which I doubt, she wouldn’t have it in her pocket. “I need longer.”

Eric rolls one shoulder as if we’re debating the cost of an item at a yard sale instead of my life and her safety. “Because I’ve always liked you, two weeks.”

“Eight.”

“Six. And if she doesn’t pay I take her car and I own you. Are we clear?”

Crystal. Because, for Eric and his crew, the beating is the payment. The taking of the car is for kicks. “No one touches her, Eric.”

Having accomplished what he came for, Eric pulls his keys out of his pocket and strolls toward the main parking lot. “As long as someone pays. But if you don’t...” He looks over his shoulder and slides his eyes over Rachel. My fingers curl with the thoughts of strangling him. “For you, pretty girl, I promise there won’t be baseball bats involved.”

I watch him until he drives off, then examine Rachel. She’s so beautiful it hurts. Golden blond hair flows past her shoulders. Those gorgeous violet eyes shouldn’t be so wide with fear. I’ve dreamed of being this close to her again. I ache to gather her in my arms and keep her safe from the world...to be her protector, but I can’t be that man.

“You okay?” I ask.

Rachel moves her head as a yes, but the answer’s no. After being touched by Eric, how can she be fine? I run my hand over my head. Just fuck. “Get in the car.”

Rachel fidgets with the oversize buttons on her black coat, then readjusts her skirt, drawing my attention to her bare legs. Her warm breaths billow out into the air as white fog. “I’m late for school.”

So am I. “You and I need to skip today.”

It’s difficult to discern her head shaking no as her body shudders from the cold. “My parents will kill me.”

I rub my eyes with both hands. “Eric will actually kill us both. My car—now.”

Without looking at me, Rachel retrieves her backpack and heads to the passenger side of my black Mustang. The driver’s side door hangs open and the engine still purrs. When I cut into the overflow lot, I saw his hands on her and my whole world went red.