Crossing Lines: A gripping psychological thriller (Behind Closed Doors Book 3) (21 page)

I can’t argue when the evidence is stacking up against me. Lisa probably will be better off with Drew. “Fine. You deal with this.”

I stare at my cell as the line disconnects. There I am, reorganizing my entire life to put Lisa first, and it’s too late. I’ve failed Faith; more importantly, I’ve failed Lisa.

The car door beside me opens. Ashleigh leans inside. “The pilot’s just doing a new flight plan, and then we can get going.”

I nod. After a moment, I look up. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“You don't want to go after her?” she asks.

“What's the point? Crisis averted. She’s fine.”

She shakes her head. “No—”

“She’s fine,” I repeat, a little sharper, more convincingly this time as I stare out of the opposite window. “This isn’t about me. It’s about what’s best for Lisa, and that obviously isn’t me.”

“Wake up, stupid!” A sharp hand clips me around the back of my head. It’s hard enough to rattle my brain inside and pulls my attention to Ashleigh. “Stop being such a self-indulgent asshole!” She jabs a sharp fingernail into my chest. “Lisa called
you
! She was reaching out to you, and I bet if she’d known exactly where you are, she’d be on her way here instead of to Hawthorne Creek. No one has the right to make you feel inadequate—not Georgia, not Drew, not even Faith, God rest her soul!

“Besides, who gives a fuck what everyone else thinks? This is about Lisa. So quit with the self-pity party already, and let’s go after her!”

If only it was that simple.
“I said ‘No!’”

“Get out of my damned car and get your ass on that plane right this minute, Darryl, or believe me, goddamn it, I’ll put you there myself!”

Who the hell does she think she is? How dare she threaten me?
I glare at her and issue a challenge. “Touch me, and you will find out you are not invincible.” Her eyes widen, her lips part slightly, and her chest begins to rise and fall in rapid succession. If the stakes weren’t so high, her shocked and almost fearful reaction would amuse me. But considering the day I’ve had so far, I am not amused. “So the fearless Krystal Valentina has a weakness,” I taunt. She stares at me in stunned silence. “My life, my family. Stay the fuck out of it!”

 

* * *

 

“You wanted the responsibility, Georgia,” I snap into my cell phone as I climb out of the car. “Well, you can have it, because I'm done.”

“But—”

I hang up and march away from Ashleigh before she has time to say anything. I do not need her interference right now because I think anything she has to say might actually be right, and right now I don’t want anyone else to be right about this but me. It’s my choice.

I make a mental note to thank her at another time, for all she’s done in the last couple of hours. But right now, I have no inclination to speak to anyone. Instead, I stomp up the stairs. I know I’m acting like a child, but I don't care. I even slam the bathroom door, so hard the windows rattle. It feels good.

I brace my palms against the pristine basin and stare at my reflection in the mirror.
What the hell am I doing? How did I get this so wrong? I’ve sacrificed everything in my life to give Faith what she’d asked for.
And I
have
sacrificed everything: my marriage, my career, my future, even my own happiness. I’ve thrown away everything I’ve ever wanted, for the promises I'll never be able to keep. Not when fate continually causes more landslides before I’ve cleared through the last one, and the debris is just piling higher and higher.

There will be repercussions for walking away today. Georgia will never let me forget it. She’ll bring it up in every argument, as just another time when I walked away from our family in crisis. Lisa won’t speak to me for months, if ever again, for leaving her in Hawthorne Creek when I know she hates it. And Caleb will be pissed. Period. But right now I don’t care. I can’t handle this anymore. Just. Can't. Do. It.

I’ve finally hit rock bottom.

I splash my face with cool water. All I want now is to sit on the beach and pretend this isn’t my life anymore. I turn away from the sink and decide that is exactly what I’m going to do.

I’m surprised Ashleigh isn’t waiting for me to open the door, arms folded, tapping her foot impatiently, and ready to march my ass back to the airport. From the voices rising up from downstairs, I guess she’s been delayed by Sean. I’m grateful for that. Fighting with Ashleigh is not on my list of things to do today. Still, their voices are growing louder, and I feel a pit in my stomach as I look toward Julia’s bedroom. My mind returns to her discomfort during Ashleigh and Sean's last argument.

Through the open crack of the door, I see her crouching at the foot of her bed. She has her back to me, and because of the noise from below I don’t think she’s heard my approach. “Julia? Are you—”

She spins around, her big frightened eyes glaring back at me like she’s been caught in the act of wrongdoing. “Darryl? But you were…”

As her voice drifts, I take a moment to check out what she’s holding in her hands: it’s a pile of cash and a passport. Is she… making a run for it? But why? She’s safe. Ashleigh’s fought with everyone to keep her safe. She has no reason to run, surely? This doesn’t make sense.

“I thought you were going back to New York?” she finishes after a moment.

I understood why Faith ran. She was in danger. Faith ran, instead of becoming one of those women who went back and forth between knowing what was true and what her abusive husband told her was right. But why is Julia running?

Instead of answering her question I walk into her room and shut the door firmly behind me. “What's going on?”

Her damp, expectant lashes lift from the passport, revealing just how torn apart she is by the decision she’s trying to make. “Plan B?” she offers. Her voice is so frail when she speaks it’s as though she’s testing the words herself, but just hearing her say them aloud takes the air from my lungs.

“You can't!” I gasp. “What about your family?” She shrugs and I'm now torn by her dismissiveness. There isn’t room to think about others. I know that; she has to think about herself and the child she carries, but running away has never been in the cards for Julia. As much as I hate the idea, she wants to go home, back to Wayne, to have her baby and make a family with him. “What about Ashleigh? After everything she’s risked for you?”

She puts the items back in a box and pushes it under the bed. “It was her idea.”

“What?” I should have known Ashleigh would have a backup plan.
This is not acceptable. Not today. Not ever!
“Didn’t they take your passport away? Obviously you’re a flight risk?”

She looks away.

“It’s not yours, is it?” When she doesn’t reply, I close the last of the distance between us. “Do you know how much trouble you’ll get into if you’re caught? I’m guessing former special-agent Rylan has had nothing to do with this, either?”

“What?” She looks up. “No!”

My fury hits boiling point. “It’s all lies, isn’t it? This thing about you and Wayne.” Her eyes widen as she stares at me. “Ashleigh’s made it up to get you out of trouble?” With the smallest of gasps, her lips part. Fear floods the flecks of her eyes. I note the way she scrambles away from me, but I don’t see the boundaries anymore. “She fucking lied to me!”
This is the last thing I need to hear today.

“What lies?” Julia asks, stepping back again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about Ashleigh making up stories about your husband. He's never laid a hand on you, has he?” She looks away, “Because if your husband had really abused you for all these years, you’d be fucking terrified of me!”

“I … I—”

“Oh, come on, Julia!” Her gaze darts in all directions, except toward me. I suspect she’s seeking out her nearest escape route. But there isn't a hope in hell that I’m letting her go anywhere, not until she tells me what’s really going on. I know I’ll never get the truth from Ashleigh.

“You're not really scared of me, are you?” I snap, as she backs herself against the wall. “She told you what to say, and how to act, because if there's anyone in this country who could get you out of attempted-murder charges, on the grounds of domestic abuse, it would be an expert like me!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Darryl.”

“I'll fucking kill her!” I spin on my heel and make for the door. “She should know better than to lie to me like this!"

“It’s not lies, Darryl!” Julia roars, as she comes after me. “Every word she has said is true. I just didn’t want to admit it, because I thought she was out for revenge. But you’re the one who’s lying here, Darryl. Do you think I haven't noticed how much attention you've paid to me?”

I freeze.

“I'm not fucking stupid!”

Slowly I turn around. I meet the same fury I feel reflected in her eyes. “I've been by her side for fifteen years. You think I haven't seen men like you before?”

Her fist thumps against my chest, so hard I grab her hand to stop her. But she glares at me. Somewhere in the back of my mind something screams at me to let her go.
It isn’t okay to hold her like this
, but I’m not listening to my own instincts anymore.

“I know you’re using her, Darryl.” She wrestles with me. She pulls at my grip with just as much strength as I use to hold on. Then, as her back collides with the wall, she suddenly stops fighting me. She looks right in my eyes. “I
know
you’re using her.” Her breathing stutters and I know, just from the fright seeping into her expression, that she knows what is going to happen next. But still, she continues, “What I can’t figure out is what you’re using her for?”

I blink once, and then twice.
What am I doing? It’s not okay to hold her this way. It’s not okay to intimidate her like this. Haven’t I learned anything from the disastrous end of my marriage with Izzy? This isn’t okay!

“Julia, I’m sorry.” My gaze drops from hers as I shake my head in self-disgust, but I don’t let her go. I can’t. “I—you—oh, Jesus Christ—”

“What do you want from her, Darryl?” she asks as she trembles beneath me.

“Nothing.” I shake my head. I can’t even bring myself to look at her as I say it. “It’s not about her. It’s about you.” All of my nerves wake up at once. I’m suddenly aware of every particle that surrounds me—especially myself, and Julia, and the wall, and that I have her trapped between us. I tower over her, even crowd her, pressing my body against hers. We touch from chest to knee, with our hands stuck between us. “It’s never okay to treat you like this.” But when I meet her gaze with my own, she doesn’t appear fazed by me anymore. “It’s not okay to intimidate you like this.”
So why can’t I seem to let her go?

“Wayne does this all the time, Darryl.”

“But he shouldn’t,” I whisper. “Just because he's your husband, it doesn’t give him that right.” The denial builds inside her eyes. “Please don't,” I ask again. “Don’t tell me it’s true, and then deny it.”

She hesitates, then looks away. “I’m sorry I made you angry.”

“No, you didn’t, I was already angry.” I shake my head. “And even if you had, no one has the right to hurt you.”

“I hurt myself.” She protests. “Wayne, he gets so mad he scares me. I run away. I haven’t learned the lesson to look where I’m going yet.” She doesn’t take her gaze away from mine as she adds, “I don’t think I can become the woman he needs me to be. I can’t stop making the mistakes that make him angry. I just don’t learn.”

It’s the breakthrough I’ve worked for. The realization that her marriage isn’t where she wants or needs it to be has come quicker than I'd thought possible. “You’re right, Julia, you can’t change to make him happy, because he’ll always move the goal posts.” She nods, and so I continue, “There’s something else you need to know.” Her gaze holds onto mine as I whisper, “You’re perfect just the way you are.”

“No.”

“Yes,” I insist. “What I don't understand is why you’re not scared of me. I’m bigger, meaner, and grouchy as hell. Why aren’t you running for the door right now?”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” she replies simply. “You’ll never hurt me.”

I don’t move, don’t even breathe. I just stare at her. She doesn’t know me at all. The longer the silence drags on between us, the more the confidence builds inside her gaze. I know, she’s sure I’ll never hurt her. “You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

“You can’t know that.” The words come out on a trembling breath as I admit it out loud: “Because I don’t even know that for sure.”

She smiles unevenly. “But I do know it, Darryl. You’d rather hurt yourself than hurt me.”

But how? It isn’t possible to know someone so thoroughly that in only one week you have that kind of faith in him. Not the kind of faith Julia has in me, and I’ve done nothing to earn it. But I do know, without a doubt, that every word Julia says, she wholeheartedly believes. And I don’t understand how she can be this optimistic about this whole situation, about what I’m doing right now.

Back away!
The voice inside my head screams at me, but I don’t. Because I’m lost. I don't even know how long her bright silvery eyes stare back at mine, undeterred by the tightening of my grip around her wrists as I try to deny a surge of temptation—a desire I’m only now coming to see has existed since we first met. And just like that everything falls into place.

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