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It doesn’t matter why. It’s happening. I close the distance between us and fold her smaller body into mine. She fights me at first—her fists knock against my chest. Each swipe stings, but it’s nothing like the hurt beating at me because of her pain. Eventually, she stops hitting and rests her forehead on my chest. Her body quakes with sobs.
“What am I going to do?” she whispers.
I kiss the top of her head. The early-morning sun warms her hair and I linger so I can inhale the delicious scent of jasmine mixed with salty waves. I gave her up once and touching her like this again. . . I refuse to abandon her again. She needs me.
“I’ll fix this. ” I have no idea how, but I can’t stomach her tears. “Give me twenty-four hours and I’ll have a way to fix this. ”
Chapter 24
Rachel
STANDING IN THE GARAGE AT home, I stare at Isaiah’s phone number programmed into my cell. Isaiah said that he’ll fix things with Eric, but what does that mean for us? For our relationship? Or our lack of a relationship? If he had given me his number last week I would have been full of joy. Now—I feel tired.
Isaiah told Eric I was a debt.
Eric called me a fuck.
I close my eyes and cringe at that last word. Was Isaiah right? He called me dense. I have to be, because I honestly believed that the kiss in his apartment meant something to him. That our moment together, that my first kiss, was more than a lead-in to. . . to. . . sex.
With a sigh, I swing my pack over my shoulder and head to the house. It’s early. Not even ten yet. There’s no way I can return to school, not when my mind’s a turbulent mess over Eric and Isaiah and five thousand dollars. It all seems overwhelming and impossible. It probably is, but Isaiah told me not to worry. He told me to have hope. I’m torn between the two emotions.
The same words circle in my head: I’m a debt. I. Am. A. Debt.
I unlock the back door, enter the kitchen and disable the alarm. Dad’s at work, West and Ethan are at school, Mom is. . . who knows where. My fingers brush where Isaiah stroked my cheek before we parted ways. My heart flutters and then crashes to a halt. I’m a debt. A debt.
Eric pops into my mind and my skin crawls because he touched my hair. My head starts to ache. What I need is a hot, pounding shower and a new train of thought.
I’m a debt.
“Rach? What are you doing here?”
A jolt of shock causes me to drop my backpack and turn. My oldest brother, Gavin, stands next to the pantry, a bag of chips in his hand. It’s just Gavin! I scream in my mind, but after Eric, everything seems like a threat. Especially Gavin. My brother is huge: played football in college and was good at it, too. He’s smart and opinionated and he just plain intimidates me.
“I asked what you were doing here,” he demands.
My fingers twine and untwine. “I didn’t feel good so I came home. ” The lie comes easily. Guilt follows.
His eyes lower to my pack on the floor by my feet. “You’re too young to sign yourself out. ”
“I never made it into school. I sat in the parking lot until I felt well enough to come home. ” Please believe me. Please believe me.
“Does Mom know?”
“No. ” Crap. Mom. I’m not ready to face Mom. “But I’ll tell her. Is she here?”
Gavin scratches the back of his head, and the chip bag crackles in his hand. I glance around the kitchen and realize that everything about this moment is wrong. “Where’s the staff?”
“Mom gives them Friday mornings off,” he says.
I didn’t know that. “And Mom?”
“Out,” he says. “You should go upstairs if you aren’t feeling good. ”
Yeah, because Gavin always looks out for my best interests—and by always I mean never. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have a job?”
The bag crackles again, and that’s when I notice a gym bag full of food on the floor. And the jeans he’s wearing. . . and T-shirt. “What’s going on?”
Gavin drops the chips and steps in my direction. Remembering Eric, I stumble back. I’ve already been threatened by one guy today. I don’t want to be threatened by another. Faster than me, because let’s face it, who isn’t, Gavin grabs my wrist to steady me as I ram into the fridge.
