Katie McGarry - Crash Into You

“I want to go further,” she whispers. When I skim the waistband of her pants, her breathing hitches.

Further. Damn, my entire body responds. I don’t miss the way her hand fidgets with the hem of her shirt. Scared I’ll spook her, I don’t push her too far, but I’m all for reading body language. I place my hand over hers and her smile appears.

“You sure?” I ask.

She nods and her hand falls away. I lower my head as I slowly edge the material of her tank off her stomach. Jesus, her stomach is gorgeous. Flat and smooth. As my lips press the spot above her belly button I confirm how undeniably sweet Rachel is.

I kiss each and every centimeter of her exposed skin as I move up her tank. I linger over the material of her bra and Rachel fists the sheet with both hands. She’s so damn hot I’m about to forget slow and go for fast.

But I ignore those urges and guide the material up and over her head. I don’t know what the hell I did to have such a beautiful creature in my bed, but she’s here and I’m going to spend tonight worshipping this gift in front of me.

I roll my body over Rachel’s, and her legs tangle with mine. Elvis’s deep voice drifts from the apartment below. He sings about wise men and fools who rush in. I know as I hold Rachel in my arms that I, too, had no choice in falling in love.

We become lost in kisses, warm bare skin and touches. I move, and this time Rachel moves along with me. There’s a building, a sweet pressure. It’s as if we’re not even two separate people anymore, but one.

Hands are everywhere. Kisses on the lips, the neck and shoulders. I move faster and Rachel keeps the pace as her thighs press against my hips, bringing me closer.

Right as my world is about to be pushed over the edge, Rachel grasps on to my body and calls out my name. I wrap my arms around her, holding on as if I’m saving myself from dying. My body jerks, and behind my closed lids there are bright colors. I inhale, and it’s the scent of jasmine and when I open my eyes, I see an angel.

“I love you,” Rachel whispers, and her eyelids flutter with the delicious exhaustion.

I slip to the side and gather her into my arms. I want Rachel here every night for the rest of my life. It’s what feels right, what feels natural. “I love you.”

“I’m tired,” she yawns.

“Sleep, angel.” I rub my hand up her spine and revel in the feel of her body pressed tight to me. “Sleep.”

Rachel

MY EYES POP OPEN AND a nervous adrenaline beats through my system. A nightmare. Just a nightmare. One of my mom and my father and of speeches...

I’m in the same position as when I fell asleep: one leg draped over Isaiah’s and my head resting against his bare chest. His heart has the same steady rhythm that I’ve come to depend upon. Slants of light filter into the room from the streetlamp. Time lost all meaning hours ago. With one hand wrapped around me, keeping me tucked close to his body, Isaiah dozes.

Tonight, Isaiah took me places I’ve never been, and the memory almost drives away all the fear from the nightmare....

The nightmare. Isaiah was in it, too. His words became a mantra: I’ve survived because of what I make people believe.

I swallow and cringe. My throat is raw from vomiting with the panic attacks. I’m exhausted, unable to sleep for long periods of time, and my body is wearing out further every day.

My mother wants me to give a twenty-minute speech at a dinner party for hundreds of guests. I’m not sure how much more my body can take, but I risk too much if I tell my parents the truth. If I can hold on until we pay off the debt, then I can introduce Isaiah to my family, and if I give this speech, then my mother will be proud.

Proud of me like she was always proud of Colleen.

While Isaiah creates an outside that pushes everyone away, I’ve created an outside in order to draw in my family. No, I’ve done it to win my mother’s love.

My body is breaking down because of what I make people believe.

I snuggle closer to Isaiah, and he locks his other arm around me. I ignore the voices in my head and focus on the one person who loves what no one else can: the real me.

* * *

My mind separates from itself as I scan my bedroom. I said goodbye to Isaiah an hour ago, and now my world is in tattered pieces. I did this damage in my search. My purple comforter is ripped off the bed. The pillows strewn across the floor. Every possible container opened and the contents poured out. Last night’s meager winnings crunch in my hand as I close my fist.

My body trembles as I circle the room again. The money...it’s gone.

Maybe I missed it. Maybe I got so panicked that it was right in front of me and I didn’t see it. I reach for my jewelry box again, and this time toss the contents as I come across them. As I dig to the bottom, I do see something new: a note. Before I can read the entire thing, I scramble across the floor to my bathroom and discover that my panic has entered a new stage: vomiting blood.

* * *

The door to West’s room bounces against his wall as I throw it open. Ethan and West drop their video game controllers and jump to their feet when they see what I can only assume is pure anger radiating from my face. My body shakes and I sway slightly to the side. My strength is gone. Damn them for doing this to me.

Ethan grabs my arm. “Jesus Christ, Rach. You’re dead on your feet.”

I smack him off, choosing to be supported by the wall instead. “You took my money.”

Ethan and West share a knowing glance, and for some reason they both appear relieved as their shoulders lose their tension. West readjusts the baseball cap on his head. “Yeah. That. Did you bother reading the note? We said we’d pay you back.”

Over months. It said they would pay me back over months. “That was my money!”

Ethan’s eyes flicker over me and his head falls back. “You had a panic attack over the money, didn’t you? Shit, West, I told you we should have taped the note to the outside of the box. You didn’t see the note, and I bet you freaked out when you found the money gone.”

West flops back into his chair. “A little overdramatic, don’t you think, Rach? I mean, who else is going to take your money? We said we’d pay you back, and we will.”

“That was my money!” I scream. “Give it back! Now!”

Like always, the two continue their conversation as if I don’t matter. Ethan turns to West. “You’d flip if someone took over four thousand dollars from your room. By the way, Rach, what type of part were you planning on buying? You had to be saving for a while.”

“Can you two even try to pretend that you feel bad for stealing?”

West turns his back to me, preparing to rejoin his game. “We said we’d pay you back. Chill the fuck out.”

Screw it. I walk over to West’s desk and begin pulling on drawers, tossing papers and pens and books and crap onto the floor. If they won’t give it to me, then I’ll find it. My brothers shout as I rummage through the room. When they figure out yelling won’t stop me, one of them restrains me from behind. His hands become iron bands around my arms.

I’m done being weak. I’m done being controlled. I kick and I scream and I only snap out of it when Ethan gets in my face. “Rachel!”

My twin’s dark eyes bore into mine. When we were children, those eyes used to be right there when I fell asleep at night and there when I’d wake in the morning. Even when our parents forced us into our own rooms, we’d sneak away to be with each other. For years, we fought to be together and now, we seem forever apart.

“You stole from me.”

West holds my arms at my sides. “I stole from you. Ethan objected. Blame me.”

I stare at Ethan. He’s been keeping something from me, and like he did with me over the panic attacks, I never asked. Maybe because I never wanted to know. “Why?”

Ethan presses his lips into a fine line. “Gavin has a gambling addiction.”

West releases my arms. “Ethan!”

Ethan throws out his arms. “What? We took over four thousand dollars from her, West. That’s not money you take because you need gas.”

The two of them argue as I stumble across the items I had tossed on the floor. Gavin, my oldest brother, the head of all of us, the strongest, the leader, has a problem. I sit on the bed and clear my throat, ignoring the raw pain. “How bad?”

West shoves his hands in his pockets with such force that his boxers stick out. “Bad. None of us ever meant for it to happen. You know those nights you’d cover for Ethan, we figured out it worked for me, too, so the four of us started hanging.”

Of course they did. Leaving me out would be the thing to do. I rub my forehead as the migraine from the panic attack sets in.

“We wanted to have fun,” says Ethan. “Away from Mom and Dad. It’s hard on Gavin and Jack. They hate being a part of this family. They look down the hall and they see Colleen’s room. They look at how Mom treated you and they felt like they were reliving the cancer. They saw you and...”

They saw her.

“So one night we went to the riverboat.” West continues Ethan’s story, no doubt hoping I wouldn’t make the connection. “I’d scored me and Ethan some fake IDs. Gavin got hooked and we tried to help, but...”

“He found other ways to gamble when we stopped him from going to the boat,” finishes Ethan. “He owed some bad people money. Thank God you had enough to pay them off.”

I lower my head into my hands. Isaiah and I are screwed. “You have no idea what you’ve done,” I whisper.

The bed shifts, and I peek to find Ethan sitting beside me and West standing in front of me. Both of them hold their shoulders slouched forward.

“We’re not enabling him.” West clearly believes that what I said means something completely different. “Gavin tried going to Dad, but Dad was too busy to listen, so Gavin came to me. He agreed to get help if I helped him pay the debt. And he’s going to get help. Gavin just didn’t want Dad to know how bad it was, and he never wants Mom to know.”

“Rach,” says Ethan. “Gavin’s going to rehab after the charity dinner. Dad wants Mom to have one perfect night before Gavin goes and then Dad will tell Mom everything.”

I massage my temples, wishing the throb would disappear. This entire family is one big mess. When I think my legs won’t give out, I stand. Ethan joins me, and West braces his arms as if I’m going to fall. I push past them and go for the door.

“Where are you going?” asks Ethan.

I pause and choke back the automatic lie. What would this family have been like if Colleen had never died? “I’m going to see Isaiah, and you aren’t going to stop me.”

Isaiah

I ROLL A GLASS JAR full of nuts against the tool bench at the garage. Completely broken, Rachel sits a few feet from me in the chair Abby dragged out of the office for her when her sobs became too intense for her to stand. Logan leans against the office window with the back of his head resting against the glass. This isn’t his problem, but he treats it like it is. For that, I have respect.

Abby crouches in front of Rachel, doing what I should be doing, consoling. Saying the words I should be saying, that’s it’s not her fault and it’ll be okay. Abby’s right. It’s not her fault. She did nothing wrong by protecting our money in her room. Her brothers on the other hand...

I grab the jar and throw it across the room. Glass shatters against the wall. My chest moves rapidly. We have seven hundred dollars. Four-thousand three hundred dollars short of what we need.

“Feel better?” asks Logan with absolutely no inflection.

My head falls back. “Some.” At least the anger is under control. That is, until I get my hands on her brothers. “The nitro system goes in my car.”

“Isaiah,” Logan says again. “Rachel’s car is the better one. Add the system to hers. We’ll have a better shot at winning.”

I cross my arms over my chest, unmoved and unconvinced. Movies and television make nitro look like child’s play, but it’s not. The systems are tricky and too many things can go wrong. Even though she won’t be the person drag racing with it, I don’t want her in a car with that type of danger. “Not your call.”

Rachel wipes her eyes and stands. “Then it’s mine. I don’t understand why you’re fighting us on this. We have a better chance to win with the system in my car.”