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Peeking beyond his biceps, I see the two blue uniforms stalking in our direction. “What do we do?” I barely breathe out.
His hands go to my waist—my waist! And they feel so right. I like this closeness. Maybe I like it too much. A guy has never been this close to me. Never. And I can’t believe it’s happening, even if it is to keep from being arrested.
My heart beats frantically. Isaiah is hot and scary and hot. Why on earth would a guy like him want to be anywhere near a girl like me?
It’s the adrenaline rush. That’s what it is. I like how he feels because I’m still experiencing the adrenaline rush from Isaiah’s NASCAR driving skills. His arm shifts, and I love how that movement causes his muscles to flex.
Stop it, Rachel. It’s not real. Focus.
“Kiss me,” he whispers. “If you kiss me we’ll blend in. ”
My mouth drops open as if to make a sound, but nothing comes out. How do I say the words. . . I don’t know how to kiss.
Chapter 9
Isaiah
RACHEL’S BODY STIFFENS AGAINST MINE. I’ve scared her. Of course I have. I’ve thrown an angel against a wall, into darkness, and asked her to do something unthinkable.
The area between my shoulder blades itches as if I’ve got a bull’s-eye painted on my back. The cops must be scanning us.
She places her soft hands on my bare forearms and whispers my name with an edge of panic. “Isaiah, they’re looking at us. ”
Girls like her never notice guys like me and damn me to hell for enjoying her touch and the sound of my name on her lips. I may be a lot of things, but naive isn’t one of them. Her dependence on me is because she’s terrified of the cops. “Tell me how close they are,” I demand.
“Very,” she breathes out.
“Are they still looking at us?”
She nods. Fuck.
Kissing would be better, but I won’t drag her further into hell by forcing her to be physical with me. I lower my head away from hers and hover my lips near her neck. Rachel’s chest moves as she sucks in air. God forgive me for scaring her. “Angle your head to mine to hide your face,” I whisper. “It’ll just appear like we’re hooking up. ”
She does, and her forehead brushes against my cheek. “I’m sorry,” she says.
My eyebrows furrow. “For what?”
“For. . . for. . . messing this up. You would be safe if it wasn’t for me. ”
“No, I wouldn’t. ” I turn my head in her direction. Her face is centimeters from mine, and she looks up at me with wide, beautiful blue eyes. Above us, a security light flickers on, then off. I’m wrong. They aren’t blue. Those eyes are so dark they’re violet. “You could have left me behind. ”
I’ll never forget that. Never. Only one other person in my life would risk everything for me. That’s Noah. Our bond is one forged through the blood of battles won and lost in the system. We understand each other. Get each other. Have each other’s backs. We’re surviving warriors.
But this girl. . . she owed me nothing. Yeah, I turned back for her, but when I did, I knew I would still make it out. Her scenario was different. When I blew a tire, Satan was breathing down our necks and she stood against the flame. Hell, without batting an eyelash, she’s still standing in the inferno.
I owe her.
She lets out an unsteady breath. Her eyes fixate on the Brothers of the Arrow Knot tattooed on my left forearm then follow the flaming tail of the dragon that winds up my biceps and disappears from view at my short sleeve. I know what she sees: a punk.
Without moving her head, Rachel glances to the right and sucks in her lower lip. I’ve seen roses the color of her lips. “They’ve gone across the street. ”
The tension eases from my muscles. I slide my fingers through hers again and pull her in the opposite direction of the cops. We need to get inside so I don’t have to keep tossing the girl against buildings. She deserves better than that. My apartment is close, but not close enough. Rachel and I need walls between us and the streets.
Rachel obviously said a prayer to her God, because a few feet down the sidewalk, beneath a neon sign, is our answer: a guy who owes me for fixing his car. The line into the club stretches beyond the plastic ropes and wraps around the building, but we won’t have to wait.
Jerry lifts his chin in acknowledgment the moment he sees me. “Isaiah, what’s doing?”
“I got problems. ”
