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

whatever control she has snaps. Her lower lip trembles and she utters, “I think I’m losing it, D.”
    Somehow, I still feel like I’m being played with. I don’t trust this sudden revelation of her as an insecure girl; sure she’s on the verge of tears but … hasn’t she just admitted to manipulating others? My guard remains firmly in place. “Why?”
    “Because …” She looks away from me and whispers, “I'm angry, Darryl.” Her voice trembles. “I'm angry all the time.”
    I hear everything she says, but at the same time I’m mesmerized by the perfect nails working to create another paper animal. She doesn’t make a single error at all. When did she learn origami? How has she found the time to practice this to a perfect art form? Then, it hits me: it's a coping mechanism. This is how she deals with the anxiety she’s revealing to me.
    “It doesn't matter how hard I train, or how much I meditate or search to find balance, it's never enough to calm me down. Never.”
    I’m familiar with this part of her story. Years of martial arts training have saved her from the insanity of life as one-half of an identical double act Krystal and Katrina and the daughter of TV-villain Angela Valentina. She was a star before she went to elementary school, and more than once she’s referred to the dojo as her sanctuary.
    “I know exactly what I’m capable of, D. I can kill a person with my bare hands with very little effort.” It’s quickly becoming apparent why she’s telling me this, and why it’s important in what’s going on with her right now and her violence as a child. “Darryl.” Krystal's hands freeze. Her gaze lifts from the paper dragonfly in her hand and locks with mine. “I'm so close to losing it, with so many people, I know the unfortunate bastard who makes me snap is going to end up dead.”
    Maybe I should have connected the dots sooner. But that’s the thing about someone who’s perpetually fearless. You don’t expect them to confess their biggest fear. Especially not when those fears are of what she is capable of, rather than what she isn’t.
    Krystal’s holding back an immense amount of power, inside a deceptive waif-like frame. She’s three levels above a black belt, and qualified as a Sensei years ago. If she’s afraid she’s going to hurt someone, then she’s going to hurt someone. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but if we don’t start taking these sessions seriously, then I'm as useful to her as a chocolate coffee pot.
    This might seem huge, and it should—it is. But it’s not something she can walk away from today without coping strategies. We can discuss techniques. But the sooner we explore where the rage comes from, the easier it will be to deal with.
    “Krystal …”
    A knock on the door interrupts the reassurance on the tip of my tongue. I twist in my seat and look over my shoulder as it creaks open. Isla, my secretary, turns her head around the gap. “Doctor Hawthorne?” she mumbles nervously.
    Honestly, I’m not a tyrant, and although she knows not to interrupt my appointments with Krystal, she has nothing to be afraid of. I’m grateful for the fact that she’s worked here for more than forty years. She was my father’s secretary before he died. She attended to the needs of his successor, and she's been with me for the past ten years. I honestly believe she might be an angel in disguise.
    “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I have the school principal on line one. She'd like you to go to the school as soon as possible. It's a matter of some urgency!”
    I roll my eyes as the disappointment pools in my stomach, “Can you tell her …” Immediately, I bite my tongue. No one knows Krystal is my patient. When I turn to her, she's already risen to her five-eleven height in heels, declaring our session over.
    I sigh. Nothing good has ever come from an urgent meeting with Lisa's head teacher. But still, I turn back to Isla and say the words I really don't want to