Crossing Lines: A gripping psychological thriller (Behind Closed Doors Book 3) (15 page)

“Yeah,” I agree.
It was awful. Still is.
“But our story is not unique, Julia. It happens everywhere, every day. What makes Faith's story unique is that someone turned it into a movie, and someone else said that movie was worth watching, and then someone else said it was worthy of awards, and suddenly everyone knew about us. It was never meant to go this far.”

“I know,” she admits, “I was by Ashleigh's side every day as her career exploded beyond anyone’s wildest dreams. But you had so much to take care of. The children, and the search, and both funerals. How did you ever find the time to take care of yourself?”

I hadn't. I'd just shoved my needs aside and plowed straight into what I had to do. For the first time in seven years, I now understand why I felt numb most of the time, and so full of rage whenever someone set me off. I'd never stopped. I'd never taken the time to grieve for my sister, or her husband, or even to just accept what had happened. I was too busy trying to fight it every day. Even now, I still fought it. But there was absolutely nothing I could do to change it.

I can’t bring Faith back, or John. I can't go back and relive the years we’ve lost with Caitlyn and Zoe. I can’t make up for their loss, nor will I ever be able to fill the gaping holes losing all of them have left us with. And if I can’t fix it, then what on earth can I do?

“John’s family helped out a lot in the beginning,” I reply, bringing my attention back to Julia, who seems relieved to have lost it in the first place. “And I had Izzy, until…” I let the words go. I’d never blame her for leaving. That had been my choice.

“And now you have Ashleigh. You have no idea the lengths she will go to for the people she loves.” Julia is whispering now, and her pretty eyes, with their mixture of admiration and sadness, call to me. She’s been as far away in her own mind as I've been in mine. “Sometimes I wish she wouldn't.”

“Why?” With Ashleigh's determination to change the world, I expected Julia’s reply to have something to do with her interfering nature, the one that lived the values of 'to achieve world peace you have to fight a few wars' and then some. But Julia surprises me.

“Because of what I did.” Her eyes return to the floor. “I was so sure it was over. Everything she did pointed toward the end of their relationship. There was so much going on, and the timing just really sucked, but it felt like a now-or-never moment, and…” Her words drift away as she lifts her gaze up to meet mine. “She loved him. I stole Wayne from her, Darryl, and I can't ever make that up to her."

I want to tell her that I don’t think Ashleigh loved Wayne. She couldn’t have—she didn’t trust him. But I know Julia won’t believe me. I take a different route. “You know, it’s your guilt that allows her to push you around."

“She pushes everyone around.” She says dismissively, as a lone tear spills over and runs down her cheek. “She's done so much for us, and we don't deserve it.”

“Have you thought that all Ashleigh wants is for you to be happy, and everything she does for you, is simply because she can do it so easily, and it brings you a step closer to being happy?”

She shakes her head.

Her name is so quiet when it leaves my lips, I’m sure it’s only my movements that catch her attention as I close the distance between us. “Julia, look at me.” My eyes draw level with hers and I don't know why it seems like the most natural thing in the world to sweep my fingers over her cheek and erase her tears.

She trembles under my touch. Her eyes darken, and her pupils dilate. Even in the privacy and the security afforded by Ashleigh's home, she’s terrified. Of what? It’s a fear I’ve seen many times in the women I’ve counseled over the years. I can only guess that her fear is because she’s worried her husband will find out. Even here, where it’s impossible for Wayne to see us.

But even as I instruct my body to move away, my touch lingers, longer than I intend to allow it. My breathing grows shallower and I fight the confounding crease from showing in my brow.
I can’t be attracted to her, can I? Yes, she’s stunning, but she’s also soft, and compliant, and believes she needs protecting from the evils in the world. She’s everything Izzy is not.
I have no idea what it is about Julia that draws me in, like a moth to the flame, when I know any deep connection to a woman in her situation can only lead to my getting burned in the end.

She steps back. She pulls away from my touch, and in that single moment I know Ashleigh is right about some things. Julia’s fear can only be explained in one way. Someone has repeatedly hurt her, abused her trust, and stomped all over her faith in the decency of the human condition. It might not be physical like Ashleigh claims, but the signs are there all the same, and sometimes the physical abuse isn’t the worst part at all. It’s the mental and the emotional torment that comes, with or without it. For reasons that are unclear to me right now, my instincts tell me Julia is protecting her husband.

I let my hand drop away from her cheek. The alarm bells are ringing loud and clear; we are too close already. The relaxing haze of the last few days has shifted my focus. The ‘getting to know her’ time has been stretched out longer than necessary, because I’ve enjoyed her company. But now I realize I need to keep my head out of the clouds. I need to watch everything I do closely. If I’m ever going to get to the bottom of what happened the night Julia shot her husband, then she can never find out that I have an acute attraction to her.

She’ll read it completely the wrong way, because I’m supposed to be her best friend's lover. No, I’m more than that, aren’t I? The role Ashleigh has set me up in is as a prime contender for the coveted place of Mr. Valentina.

“You know Ashleigh better than I do.” I hesitate, think better of taking her hands in mine. I’d never do that with another client, and off the record or not, she's still a client to me. “If you didn't deserve her love and support, I'm sure you'd see a different side to her.”

“She doesn't understand anymore,” Julia replies. Her gaze returns to mine. “I love my husband, Darryl. All he's ever wanted since the attack seven years ago is to protect me.”

Why does she keep bringing up the night she was almost killed?
Over the last three days she must have mentioned it half a dozen times. It’s like it’s the catalyst for how she ended up here, in Ashleigh's home, after shooting the man who supposedly loves her and has never hurt her. “What happened that night, Julia?”

I notice the smallest of hurt flicker in her eyes before she pulls away completely. “We had a fight and I left.” She steps past me. “I was strangled, then raped, and should have been murdered. Fighting over Ashleigh is insignificant in comparison to that.”

“Ashleigh?” I lift my brows. “You were fighting over
Ashleigh
?"

“We’re always fighting over Ashleigh.” She pulls further away. “My life would be so much easier without her in it.” She tosses this over her shoulder as she continues down the stairs without me. The cold-shoulder response, and her emotional jump from zero to a hundred in less than a second, has left me feeling a little raw. “If she’d just stop interfering in our lives, everything would be fine again.”

“But he can't help you right now, Julia. Ashleigh can.” I regret the challenge the moment the words slip from my lips. I don’t know her well enough to challenge her. Not yet. But I also know that her husband has promised to make it all go away when he forgave her, and in my mind, a man who made those kinds of promises, promises he can’t keep, likes to have as much power as possible.

“He's my husband, Darryl. He doesn't have to testify against me.”

He doesn't have to testify?
I come up short behind her. Is that the carrot he’s using to stop Julia from talking? When has he had the opportunity to tell her that? And why hasn’t anyone told her that in cases where one spouse commits a crime against the other, spousal privilege can be revoked? Maybe I’m wrong. I’ll have to check with Ashleigh. Is it possible Wayne could declare they had reconciled, and therefore he no longer wishes to testify against her? If Ashleigh is wrong, and Mimi isn’t lying about her memory loss, the only witnesses to Julia's crime are the officers Ashleigh had disgraced.

The pieces fit. Wayne is playing the system. Without him, there is little or no case at all. With the right to spousal privilege, all Wayne has to do is sit around and wait for Julia to say she wants to come home. He’s waiting for her to ask him for help. He can use the rescue to get what he wants, or worse. He’ll hold it against her for years to come, and still appear as her knight in shining armor.

Now I’m caught between the proverbial rock and hard place, because I need to talk to Ashleigh, yet I’ve sworn never to tell a soul what Julia has told me. All I can hope for is to make her see Wayne is not the savior he’s promised to be. But I also know her pride won’t let that happen easily. Nor can I achieve it by attacking the pedestal she holds him so high upon. I’ve learned that lesson already.

“What are you waiting for, Julia?”

She spins around to face my challenge and I regret forcing the issue. I've been sharper than I’d intended and now her eyes are alive with awareness. Her gaze darts around the hallway, no doubt assessing her escape routes: back up the stairs, or out the door, which one leads her to safety faster?

“Why are you still living here, if going home will fix all of your problems?” I ask.

“Because she won't let me.”

“I think you're overestimating Ashleigh's control over you. Sure, she won't like it. And yes, she will try to stop you. But she can't hold you here against your will. You're free to go whenever you please. So, what's really stopping you from going home, Julia?”

“Yeah well, like you said, you don't know her as well as I do.”

Touché. Way to go and throw my words in my face.
“Do you think I'd let her?”

“You said you'd never come between us.”

Damn it.
She’s like a sponge!
Has she absorbed everything I’ve said so far, storing it for the right moment to call me out point by point? Is she trying to prove I’m not trustworthy?

Careful
, I warn myself. No longer can I ride on the back of the trust Julia has in Ashleigh, or its extension to me by default, and the advantages I’ve gained through my fake relationship with her are about to expire.

“I said I'd never do anything to affect your relationship with Ashleigh, and stopping her from stopping you going back to Wayne would not affect your friendship with her. It would affect her relationship with me!”

“Why would you do that for me?” She follows me into the kitchen and I shrug, switching on the ultra-modern coffee machine. “Aren’t you on Ashleigh's side?” The sarcasm in her remark annoys me a little too much, and that means I need to rethink my strategy somehow.

“I wasn't aware there were sides, or that I had to pick one.”

“But you're ‘the one.’” She frowns at me again. "You have something none of the boyfriends before you had. When you do get around to that quiet proposal, and suggest a quick, quiet ceremony, she's going to say yes. I know she will, because even though you’re not Sean, you're still perfect for her.”

I seriously doubt that, but instead of saying so, I lift a brow. I turn to Julia and force a smug little curve to my lips. I say what every man should say when his girlfriend's best friend says something as neurotic as
that,
especially when the alleged relationship is fake. “Have you two been talking about me?”

She breaks the eye contact, and clamps her lips together—a behavior befitting an admission more than a denial. I chuckle, glad to know that Ashleigh hasn’t totally abandoned me in this, and she’s doing her part to convince her our relationship is for real.

“You know,” I continue in a lighter tone, “it’s possible for Ashleigh to be wrong about your relationship with your husband.” It’s not that I believe Ashleigh could be wrong anymore, far from it in fact. But declaring myself free of her influence is key to getting back on Julia’s good side. Caleb was right, she needs to know I’m capable of helping her, without anyone else’s agenda at play. It’s obvious to me Julia needs help.

“No,” Julia whispers. “You mustn't.” She looks at me with big, expressive eyes. “No one ever challenges Ash, you can't. She's so stubborn and demanding, and so quick. She's always ten steps ahead.”

“The beauty of being a psychiatrist.” I chuckle again, relieved that what had been on the verge of a lost cause a few moments ago is returning to stable ground. I might even gain her trust, all by myself. Only time would tell. "I get inside people's minds, understand what makes them tick and therefore I'm always a step ahead of them.” When her eyes widen further, I add, with some emphasis, “I am not and never will be under Ashleigh's thumb.”

“Okay then.” Her voice holds a determined edge as she folds her arms over her chest and rests her hip against the work surface. A spark lights up her eyes, warning me she has every intention of proving me wrong, because isn’t everyone under Ashleigh's thumb? “So I know you know all about her crazy theories about my husband. So, come on,
doctor
. Tell me, do
you
think my husband is abusing me?”

“I believe,” I sigh and let my words hang between us as I figure out the best way to say this without rocking the boat. We’ve barely recovered from the last threat of capsizing. “I believe that you believe he isn't.” I turn away from her. Until she can see the truth, there is no point pushing her. The last thing anyone needs is for Julia to close up completely and not talk at all.