Read Blurred Lines by KD Williamson for Free Online Page A

coping skill she developed when her nightmares first started. Voices, laughter, phones ringing, they all wove around her body and soothed her like a comfortable blanket, grounding her in the moment.
    She shook her head and ordered her memories to leave her the hell alone. The dream world wasn’t a place she wanted to go back to anytime soon, but she knew she would. Kelli wanted to blame the painkillers, but after being in the hospital just over a week, she told the nurses the higher dosage wasn’t needed anymore—total bullshit. But Kelli didn’t like being fuzzy headed. She could blame her confinement, but that was a crap excuse at best. This wasn’t the first time she had been hurt, but it was the worst.
    After all that sweating, her throat was bone dry. She reached for the pitcher of water on the night stand, and a stab of pain stopped her from grabbing it. All she wanted was a shitty glass of water. Kelli ignored the mounting ache in her chest. She growled and muttered curses, but the McCabe stubborn streak refused to let her give up. Helplessness was not her thing.
    “Kelli what the fuck are you doing? Why didn’t you just call a nurse?” Sergeant Bruce Williams, her ex-partner, asked as he walked into the room. He filled a paper cup and handed it to her.
    Kelli glared, but took the drink. He was a good man and knew her well, but there was a huge difference between Travis and him. Travis would have pushed the pitcher closer instead of doing it for her. To Kelli, this made all the difference in the world. She crumpled the cup in her hand, throwing it across the room.
    “Fuck! I hate this. I fucking hate this!” Kelli blew up. She could barely breathe, but that was beside the point. She needed to get out of this bed. She needed to see Travis with her own eyes. Maybe that would keep the damn nightmares away.
    Williams was a bear of a man with broad shoulders and a barrel chest, but he was soft around the middle, kind of like the Michelin Man. His caramel-colored skin was lined more with experience than age, set off by distinguished, well-groomed gray eyebrows, mustache, and bald head. He watched her. The usual teasing glint in his eyes was missing. As she ranted, he sat there quietly.
    “Say something!”
    His eyebrows shot up. “You done?”
    Kelli sighed and rolled her eyes. “Yeah,” she answered softly, deceptively. He was about to piss her off. She just knew it.
    “Good. Because you could be dead.”
    She ground her back teeth together. “I know that.”
    “Do you? Do you really? Because I see pity party written all over your face.”
    Her anger flared to life. The feeling was simple, base. She could do anger all day long. “Stop trying to get in my head,” Kelli demanded. Goddamn him. The man saw everything.
    “Why? Because you don’t like being in there? Can’t always hide behind jokes and a husky voice.”
    “Whatever.”
    “I know you better than most, Kelli.”
    Kelli snorted. Her thoughts pushed her back to the past. Right now, it was easier to reopen old wounds than to deal with newer, more fucked-up ones, and something about the way he said her name caught her by the throat. The words just fell out of her mouth. “Not anymore, old man.”
    Williams’s eyebrows formed a nice little “V” right above his nose. There was a flash of hurt in his eyes, followed by surprise. “I thought all of that was water under the bridge.”
    “It is, but it doesn’t keep it from stinging every once in a while.”
    “I’m calling you on your shit. What’s done is done. It happened. I can’t take it back. You didn’t want to be my partner anymore because of it. You got your space. That’s a long time to hold a grudge.”
    “You were part of my family.” Kelli paused. “He was barely gone a month, Williams.” He understood the point. There was no need to continue.
    He had on his poker face. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Williams sighed. “You know why, and it’s been almost two