Crossing Lines: A gripping psychological thriller (Behind Closed Doors Book 3) (17 page)

“About as much as I'd like a freaking hole in my head!”

“But you'll erase the past if she needs your shoulder to cry on. Won't you?”

His eyes darken again. Something flashes across his expression. A warning, maybe? I’m not sure, but my nerves twinge in my gut. I haven't thought as far as what would happen if this thing turned ugly.

At the same time, as though he has read my mind, he bursts into laughter. “Oh man! You really are something, Doc. I'd love to be a fly on the wall the next time she goes all witchy and tries to work her dark magic on you.” He rolls his eyes, and his shoulders relax as his arms fold over his chest. “Your mind is as twisted as hers.” He laughs out loud again. “She deserves you!" He slaps me on the back and adds, “I hope you're very happy as Mr. Valentina, Doc.”

I stare as he continues to chuckle away at whatever has amused him. I’m not even sure I want to know what it is. But the thought of Ashleigh butting heads with me has tickled Sean's funny bone.

“All right, yes,” he sighs, “Ash and I have an understanding. I don't want to see her get hurt, any more than she'd like to see it to happen to me, but she's all yours. It will be a cold day in hell before we go back to where you're suggesting. So it’s up to you to stop her interfering with Julia's marriage, because Wayne’s had enough. He's giving Ash enough rope to hang herself, because he knows when that happens, Julia will want nothing more to do with Ashleigh again.”

Patiently waiting, my ass!
Rage lights me up inside as another piece slots into the puzzle. I’d never believed Ash’s ‘things got a little heated’ explanation as to why Wayne had hit her. Wayne is trying to force her reaction. He’s deliberately pushing Ashleigh, because he knows the moment she loses her temper and hurts him, Julia will leave.

“All he wants is to move on with their life together. Ashleigh is stopping them.”

“I'll ask her to back off.” I reply quietly as he looks toward Julia heading for the beach. Suddenly, Ashleigh’s issues with controlling her anger seem just as important as finding out what Julia’s life is really like.

“You know something, Hawthorne, I like you.” He nods and begins to head past me, “So I'm also going to give you a piece of friendly advice.” He stops right in front of me and whispers, “As long as Ash continues to wear the forget-me-nots I bought her, you haven't got a chance.”

I swallow past a dry throat. “You bought the ring?”
The ring she never takes off
, I add silently.
I knew there was something significant about that damned ring.
But Sean doesn’t reply. When my focus snaps back from my angry thought and my vision clears, he’s already beside Julia on the path toward the beach. I watch as he picks up a stick and throws it for Luca. Then they both follow the dog down the steps and out of sight.

I curse and march toward the office. I have a snowball’s chance in hell of getting Ashleigh to remove that ring. And if she doesn’t, it will reveal us both to be liars.

Chapter Eleven

13
th
October 2012

THE WARM PACIFIC WATERS
lap around my ankles as I snatch at a stick as it floats away. Ashleigh's golden retriever splashes into the water, her tail beating against the tide, as her coat glows a warm orange in the light of the low sun.

I can't remember the last time I felt so at peace with the world and relaxed. I never expected to feel this way considering the debate I’ve been having with Ashleigh for days. I’m on the losing side of the argument and struggling to make her see that she has to stop wearing the forget-me-not ring when she returns tomorrow, if only until I return to New York at the end of next week. Acting like as a serious couple is going to get a lot harder with her around here, so we need all the help we can get to lower suspicions.

All that considered, I still feel like any other man walking along a beach throwing a stick for a dog. I have no thoughts, no feelings of urgency to rush back to the office or to waiting patients, and there’s no need to finish everything as quickly as possible because I'm needed at the center tonight.

I’ve nothing to do. Between the spontaneous conversations with Julia and Sean throughout my day, and late-night progress updates with Ashleigh, I’ve accomplished more in the last week than I have in the entire month just gone. The reports, financials, and proposals for the Hawthorne Well-Being Group are stacked neatly on a desk in her office, all with my seal of approval, or not. For the first time in forever, I am completely prepared for the conference call with the foundation, and no one will have to step in, explain, or wait for me to swiftly read over documents I should have already read, because I’ve read them, jotted down my thoughts, and jumped feet first into every item on the agenda. It feels good, really good, to be prepared, more than prepared even, as if I could take on the whole world right now.

That being said though, I’ve come to realize that I’ve only accomplished all of this because I don't have patients to see, I don’t have counselling sessions at the center, or have to man the reception desk. I’m just one man, trying to run a business, spearhead a charity, stand on the front line, run a household, be a father-figure, search for my missing nieces, and pick up the pieces of my broken family. I can’t do it all.

More importantly, I understand the problems I’m facing with Lisa. I don’t have any time for her. I’ve never had time for her. And so, when I try to parent her, she kicks back, hard!

Sure, she’s almost sixteen. She’s more than capable of looking after herself. But she’d barely turned twelve when Izzy left, and even though I've been at home, I spend all night in the den trying to keep up. I don’t cook dinner for her and I don’t make her lunch; I don’t take her shopping, to the movie theater, or anywhere fun. I’ve always had other people who do that for me: Izzy, the housekeeper, Georgia—even Caleb has done more bonding activities with Lisa, and he lives out here, in L.A. We don’t even eat meals together anymore, because I’m always trying to finish something, or tending to a last-minute problem. Dinner's cold and Lisa’s long gone before I make it to the table.

My priorities have been in the wrong place for so long that, for the first time in seven years, I feel more than awkwardly numb. I feel more than guilt. I understand everything now I’ve taken the time to stop and reassess. I’ve been too busy trying to fix the things I can't, rather than concentrating on living in the moment, and with the people who matter the most.

Luca drops the stick at my feet again and as I toss it back up the beach I see Julia crossing the sand. She’s carrying two steaming mugs; I sniff the air and grab a faint scent of cocoa.
I haven't had cocoa in years.

“Sean asked if you'd like to go out later. He wants to show you some of the best clubs in L.A.” A big white-toothed smile comes my way and it warms me inside. “I like that you two are getting along. At first, I thought you wouldn’t. He tends to be a little jealous of Ashleigh’s boyfriends, although he’d deny it if you were to ask. But with you, he’s taken a different stand.”

“They have something that would have worked if things were different. I get that. Respect it even.”

“Yeah, I guess so. Is Izzy still part of your life in New York?”

“Not so much,” I reply quietly. “She left, and we haven’t spoken since we divorced.” She briefly looks away. I know she doesn’t understand, especially after my slip of the tongue that first day. “She tried to manipulate me.” It’s the first I’ve really admitted that to anyone, including myself. “She started playing games, sneaking around to make our lives go the way she wanted them, to have things I didn’t want and wasn’t ready for.”

“Then she wasn’t the right girl for you, Darryl.” It’s a really simple statement, one many people have said to me in the past, and one I’ve never listened to before, since I know I rushed the wedding. I plowed, full steam ahead, into the life Faith wanted me to have. And it was my fault that we were never completely whole or happy. “If she doesn't love you enough to sacrifice her needs for yours, then she isn’t the right woman for you.”

“Does Wayne sacrifice his needs for yours?” She narrows her eyes at me, and I know the walls are about to come up again. "Please, I promise there’s no hidden agenda to that question, Julia. What I’m trying to say is, how do you know someone loves you?” I shrug, “Since Faith ran from Cal, I’ve sacrificed my life for everyone, and I mean
everyone
, because Faith asked me to.”

I had. I’d spent most of my life cleaning up after her: Talking to landlords, utility companies, and bank managers, because the second she knew that Cal knew where they were, she was gone again and didn’t look back until she was sure it was safe to do so. And I'd spent the last seven years trying to pick up the pieces after her death. “I loved her with all my heart, but I never once put Izzy’s needs first. I couldn’t. There were too many priorities that came before her, like the girls.”

“Then I guess you should really ask yourself, Darryl, did you know what her needs were? Would you have prioritized them if you did? Did you have a choice? In most of the sacrifices I’ve made for Wayne, I didn’t have a choice, since the decisions had been made for me. But a lot of the time, I know he made those decisions to protect me.” After a moment, she adds, “What’s brought this melancholy on?”

“I was thinking about Lisa,” I admit. “She'd love it here.”

“Are you thinking of coming out here permanently? You know that Ashleigh’s family owns Jordan Academy, right?”
No, I didn't know that.

“Jordan Academy?” Lisa’s homeroom teacher had said the school in Seattle was second in the country to Jordan Academy.

“Yeah.”

“I see.”

“If Lisa’s as good a writer as you say, and you’re thinking about coming out here for good, you should talk to Ashleigh's mother about going down there to check it out.”

“I’m not thinking about coming here permanently.” When I look up from scuffing my feet in the sand, I meet with a disappointed gaze. "Not yet, anyway,” The lie is rewarded with a smile. “I was thinking about the mistakes I’ve made with Lisa." The more I think about her behavior, the more I feel like she’s crying out for help, and what have I done? Nothing.

“From the look on your face, you're worried it's too late to make up for all of it.”

Her comment hits like a punch in my gut, because that’s exactly how I feel. If I’m going to fix anything, then I have to make some big changes in my life. I have to make Lisa my number-one priority. But what bits of my life do I give up? And how long will it take to make sure I step away, from either the charity or the practice, without affecting the futures of the literally thousands of people who work for me? I have to think of my employees, my patients, the volunteers, and the women and children who seek shelter at my charity. This isn’t going to be a quick win.

“I got this parenting thing so wrong.” I turn away from Julia. She falls into step beside me. It’s taken me a long time to stop and think about me, my future and what I want from life. I’ll probably never get a second chance at it. “I’ve made mistake after mistake with Lisa, even saw myself making them at the time. I've screwed up so badly that I’ve never thought I’d ever want kids of my own.”

“What?” Her silver-grey eyes snap up to my gaze. Her hand instantly rests against the barely noticeable curve of her tummy, as I realize that I don't know how far into the pregnancy she is. “Like
never
?”

I blink a few times in rapid succession. Even now, standing in front of the first woman who makes me stop and double-take because I find her attractive—more than attractive, in fact—I have no interest in reactivating my love life. Despite the gnawing deep inside for family and happiness, I wouldn’t wish me on anyone.

“I don't want to be the parent I've been to Lisa,” I continue. We sit down at a tiered seating area dug into the sand, staring at the scorch marks in the middle from the fire that burns there, on many nights just like this one. "She never calls me when she’s in trouble. She won't talk to me about anything, and I don't know how to talk to her. There’s always this awkward, uncomfortable silence hanging between us, unless I'm shouting at her for getting into trouble, and then she just shouts back. It's nothing like what it was with Faith and me. She was amazing. I felt like I could go to her about anything, and we talked about
everything
.”

The only thing we never talked about was my adoption. Faith had explained it in her letters, but I’d never had the opportunity to ask the questions that had lingered for years. “Why was she so great at this, and I’m such a failure? We’re doing the same job, aren’t we?”

“It's okay to be mad at Faith, Darryl.” Julia takes my hand. “It’s part of the grieving process.” I want to resist, because it’s not okay to be mad at Faith. She didn’t want to die, and it wasn't some tragic accident, either. She was murdered.

“No. It’s not.” I shake my head.
It i shake my head, its not okay.h.t'tractive, more than attractiv , at the time. d she knew Cal knew where they were she was gones not okay
. “I don’t have that right, not after all the sacrifices she made for me.”

“And you don't think you’ve made enough sacrifices for Faith? You’re raising her stepdaughter, Darryl, who’s not even your own flesh and blood.”

Anger surges through me as my eyes seek her out.
No dammit, family isn’t about flesh and blood! It’s about love; as much as Calvin tried to prove otherwise, Faith taught me that.