Crossing Lines Read Online Free PDF Page B

barely audible over the din of the crowd, he said, “You’re tense as hell and stressed all the time. SOP for me, definitely not for you.” He looked at Kevin’s hands. “You’re drinking more and more all the time, and it seems to be getting out of hand.”
    Kevin’s tongue stuck to roof of his mouth as heat flared under his collar. He widened his stance and squared his shoulders, going toe-to-toe and eye-to-eye with Erik. More than once they’d narrowly escaped a roll-around-in-the-dirt beat-fest, but cooler heads—as in Steve—always diffused the situation before the first punch.
    Steve wasn’t here tonight, however, and Kevin was carrying a ton of pent-up steam that needed venting. “Say again,” he challenged.
    Unimpressed with the posturing, Erik met his stare, unwavering and equally threatening. “You’re double fisting piss that’s being passed off as wine. You don’t see the problem?”
    Deep-seated anger erupted into rage as Kevin’s vision turned crimson. The walls closed in around him, caging him like an animal. Cornered and isolated, exposed to the world, he wanted to come out fighting, claws exposed, going for the jugular to end the threat. He’d never wanted to live up to his nickname, Wildman, so badly.
    Laughter in the distance—Kat’s laughter—broke through the violent fog clouding his mind and judgment. For the second time in one day, he was forced to back the fuck off. No matter how badly he wanted to, he couldn’t pummel Erik for speaking the truth.
    His drinking wasn’t out of control… yet. He realized, however, if he kept his current pace, it would be. He couldn’t go to sleep without tossing back a few shots, and his first stop upon arriving home in the evening was always the fridge. Most nights, he drank his dinner rather than bothering to fix something of substance, so… yeah… there might be an issue.
    Erik relaxed and took a step back, easing off his aggression in direct proportion to Kevin stepping off his. “Is it the job? Lizbeth? The wedding? Hell, all of the above?” The stress lines around his eyes smoothed and his gaze turned imploring. “What can we do to help?”
    “Nothing,” Kevin said, setting the glasses on the side table so the tremble in his hand wasn’t obvious. He pushed his fingers through his hair and blew out a breath. “Work has been a bitch.” And that was before things blew up over the water tower. And, as much as he hated to admit it, he added, “Lizbeth is definitely part of the problem.”
    “What are you going to do?”
    He threw both hands into the air, palms up. “What can I do right now? I mean, look around.” He made a wide sweeping gesture with his arms. “She threw a party to remind me of ‘the Motherland.’” He laughed, then sobered. “Seriously, though, how can I do anything this close to her sister’s wedding? She’s been planning for a year, and she’s already self-conscious about her baby sister getting married first.” He shook his head. “Forget Lizbeth. I can’t do that to Wade and Miranda. Things would be so awkward and tense between us. I’m afraid their day would be ruined by stress and Lizbeth’s dramatics.”
    Erik pressed his lips together and gave Kevin a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, bro. You’re definitely wedged into a tight spot.” He glanced to Lizbeth, then back to Kevin. “I guess you’ve stuck it out this long. Another few weeks won’t kill ya. Right?”
    Kevin yanked at the tie, which seemed even tighter than ten minutes before. “That’s what I keep telling myself. But if I have to keep wearing these damned ties, I’m not so sure.”

Chapter Four

    T wo hours later, right on Kevin’s optimistic schedule, the house emptied, leaving only Erik, Kat, and Janelle Gentry, the executive director of Saving Grace. Another hour later, most everything had been cleaned up and put away, and they’d gotten an official accounting of the evening’s fundraising efforts. In addition to