Crossing The Line: A gripping romantic thriller. Kierney Scott
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about the size of the apartment Beth had grown up in. The playhouse had polished wooden floors and granite worktops. News of the tiny garden mansion spread through the neighbourhood and in a week, Torres had orders for three more. One person even requested a house with running water. As Paige always said, “Thank God for people with more money than sense.”
He wiped at his face. “Thank you for coming, Beth, for telling me in person. I can’t believe she’s gone.” He squeezed his eyes together.
“I know. I pick up the phone to call her at least once a day. Every time I hear something funny I want to call her and tell her. She liked to laugh.” It was a stupid thing to say. Who didn’t like to laugh? Paige laughed a lot, that is what she meant. She laughed at everything. She could make a joke out of anything. Even when Torres was gone and their mom’s disease was getting worse, Paige found things to laugh about. She missed that, the levity that Paige brought to her life. Would she laugh again the way she did with Paige? She hoped she could, for Alejandra.
Beth sat down again. She could spare a few more minutes with him, it was after all the last time he would spend with his only family. That is what she was; begrudgingly she admitted it to herself, she was his family. For this one moment she would be that for him.
She spent another hour talking with her father, answering questions and talking about her mom and sister. They both knew this would be the last time Beth came to see him. She didn’t say it, but they both knew. They would go back to being strangers again. Eventually he would die and Beth would think about him for a few minutes or a few days and then he would be gone again like he never existed. She should be sad about that, but it would be like missing something she never had.
Eventually she stood up. “Take care…Dad.” She reached out and embraced him. It wasn’t for her, or even for him, it was for Paige and her mom. They loved him, and Beth loved them.
Her dad began to cry again. His arms tightened around her. He didn’t want to let her go. She understood that feeling better than most. This was the moment, the one before he lost everything in his life. She closed her eyes and willed it to last a little longer because she knew the sting that would follow…and the darkness. God she wished she could go back to the moments before she lost Paige.
“I’m sorry,” he managed to say between sobs.
Beth’s legs went slack; muscles that she didn’t know were tight, loosened. They were words she didn’t know she needed to hear. “Thank you.”
With those two words, the pain and bitterness she had carried for thirty years, washed away.
Beth couldn’t remember where she had parked but then she realized she was looking for her SUV not the small red Prius she had rented at the airport. She took a deep breath and looked around at the bare trees. The leaves had already turned and most had fallen. This was California, her home; the place she had worked so hard to come back to. But it didn’t feel right. It wasn’t the same. This wasn’t her home. For over a decade every decision she made was about getting back here. But now all she wanted to do was get back to Texas to her sassy five-year-old and her scary-looking tattooed husband. They were her home now, for as long as Torres chose to be there, he would be her safe place.
As she slid the key into the lock, there was a sharp tug on her ponytail. Her head snapped back.
In an instant Beth spun around, just in time to see the peroxide blonde from inside swing at her.
Without having to think, Beth stepped to the side, preventing the punch from landing on her face. She used the momentum of the swing to spin the woman around. Beth slammed her hard against the side of the car. She still had a hold of her arm; that alone was enough leverage to keep the woman in place. Suddenly she saw the little girl staring up at her.
Beth shook her head. “Seriously? You attack me in front of your kid? Some people really should not be parents. I told you not to mess with me. You really should have listened.”
“Fuck you, bitch.”
Beth pulled up on her arm. It was a small movement designed to inflict maximum pain.
“Ouch, you mother fucker,” the woman howled.
“Please stop swearing in front of your child.” Beth turned and smiled down at the little girl. She reminded her so much of her own daughter. “Mommy is having a hard time remembering her manners. But I’m helping her remember. That is nice of me, isn’t it? Good manners are very important.”
The little girl’s dark brows knit together, not sure what to make of Beth.
Beth lowered her voice to a whisper so the little girl could not hear her. “You’re not very tough now without your gang. Bet you wish you had a gun right now or a baseball bat.” Beth gave her arm another small pull upward. “Did I forget to tell you I have a black belt in karate? Yep I did. Must have slipped my mind. Also forgot to mention I am a special agent with the DEA. So you just assaulted an officer of the law. Never a good idea. The court frowns on that. Do you have anything sharp in your pocket I could cut myself on?”
The woman didn’t answer.
“You really need to learn to play nice.” Beth pulled up on her arm again, not stopping until the woman bellowed. She hated that she had to do this in front of the little girl. Life would be so much easier if parents put their children before their need to be assholes.
“No, no I don’t have anything.”
Beth loosened the pressure on her arm. “Good. See how much easier things are when you play nice. It’s all about human decency.” Beth reached into the woman’s pocket, finding a California State driver’s license. “Pleasure to meet you, Tasha Baker. I will be sure to tell your parole agent how we became acquainted.”
“Bitch, I don’t got no parole officer.”
“Really? Because that ugly tattoo on your neck tells me you’re with the Crips. And the one on your wrist told me you served time. So don’t lie to me. You have a parole officer. Chances are you just got your kid back. So right after I speak to your parole officer I’m going to speak to your kid’s social worker. All this because you couldn’t listen. Next time when someone says don’t mess with them, don’t mess with them. Or better yet just don’t mess with people. It’s all about human decency. Get some, Tasha.”
Beth turned to the little girl. “Baby Girl, listen to me. Make better choices. Your mama has a hard time. She will probably let you down a lot along the way. Be strong and make better choices.” Beth could only sigh. The cards were stacked high against this poor kid. But she could still make it. She had to tell herself that.
Beth returned her stare to Tasha. “I am going to let you go now. You are going to take your child and walk back to your car. If you try anything stupid, like say trying to hit me again, I will hit you back. Hard. And that would be embarrassing. In front of your kid and all. And then I will take you to the ground and I will sit with my knee in your spine until the police send someone to arrest you. All very embarrassing for you, Tash. Can I call you Tash? I feel like we are at that level now. Since you’ve pulled my hair and I’ve made you scream. So Tash, walk away and don’t look back. And buy your kid a clean pacifier. I personally think she is old enough to do without but you’re her mama, so I’m going to cut her some slack.”
Beth sighed as she settled into the driver’s seat. She sat and just stared out at the bare trees. God this had been a shit day. But still nothing, she felt nothing. No that was a lie, she felt like the trees, bare, stripped down to the point where life was merely nominal. But the leaves would be back. There would be a spring and the flowers would bloom.
She would too. She had to believe that, the same way she believed the little girl had a chance.
She shook her head. Once upon a time she had been better at lying to herself. Maybe it was this place; it was hard to believe in a happy ever after when you were sitting in a prison parking lot.