Crossing Lines: A gripping psychological thriller (Behind Closed Doors Book 3) Read Online Free PDF

quarterback. Caleb wrestles the phone from my hand. “What if Lisa calls?”
    I stop and think. What if Lisa calls after I’ve smashed my cell? Stupid. I shake my head. Stupid. Short of slapping my hand against my forehead, I take a breath. Cooling air fills my lungs and the rage fades. My control slowly returns. My head bobs up and down, informing Caleb everything is back to normal. “Sorry.”
    “What’s gotten into you?” Caleb's eyes widen. “Usually, you never let her get to you like this. I mean, tossing your cell through a window? Really?” He lifts a brow in my direction, “C’mon D, you're just not built that way.” He offers me back my cell phone. “You need to get some rest. I’ve never seen you this worked up, D. Not since you hit Dad thirteen years ago. And lord knows, you married a money-hungry dragon, so you've been pushed before!”
    A money-hungry dragon? The insult at Izzy’s expense lifts the hair on my neck. “She was still the best damn thing that happened to me,” I reply quickly in her defense.
    “You're damn right, she was .” He shrugs. “That was, until you had to grow up and she didn't want to. Being saddled with Dad's mess wasn't what she’d signed up for.”
    Suddenly, I don’t feel like talking through anything with someone so biased against my wife—ex-wife, I correct myself.
    If only I hadn’t—I push the thought away; it’s not the time or place to think about what I did to Izzy. She wouldn’t have left me if I’d given her another choice. But I hadn’t. “I wasn't saddled with anything,” I refute Caleb’s claims. “And that's not why she left me.”
    “ She left being the operative words. Time to move on.” His cell phone rings, and I’m grateful for the interruption. I've never asked for sympathy over the demise of my marriage, but a little understanding wouldn’t go unwelcome. But right now, I can’t feel sorry for myself over Izzy. My world fell apart three days ago when Lisa didn’t come home from school and now my breath stops as I wait for Caleb to look at the caller ID. Is it her?
    “It's Ashleigh.” He half grimaces and half smiles, as though I’m supposed to know whom Ashleigh is. “It’s late,” he says. “She wouldn’t call this late unless it was important. I have to take this.” He walks toward the door and then stops. “Izzy's moved on to someone else, D,” he reminds me. “It's time you did too.”
    As he answers the call, Caleb's voice fades into the distance. I turn back to the window. But all I really see are Izzy’s soft, sympathetic, yet still so very serious eyes staring back at me from a memory. I close my eyes and try to shut her out. But her gentle smile tugs at the corner of her lips, though pain and fear creases around her eyes. The memory of her palm still warms my cheek, until she begs, “Darryl, please, don’t do this!”
    As always, the sound of crashing glass chases away the memory of her loving touch. This is followed swiftly by flashes of blood draining in the pristine white sink. Her whimpers flood my core like a broken dam. I have to force my eyes open again, gasp for air as my chest squeezes my lungs. I did that. I made her fear me.
    “Georgia's right.” My voice almost echoes in the empty room. “I’ve spectacularly failed at everything Faith ever asked of me.” Of course, no one replies. I’m exactly where I wanted to put myself after the night Izzy left. Alone.
    A car door slams outside. A familiar voice cheers a thank you, and I spin around. I watch Lisa wave to whoever has brought her home and then she crosses the street. Two strides. That’s all it takes for me to reach the hallway, and swing the door open before Lisa has even made it to the top of the stairs to our front door.
    “Where the fucking hell have you been?” I yell at the top of my voice.
    She blinks as I scan the length of her. My heart is pounding as I look for signs that something horrible had happened. But she’s clean and,