Page 4 of Crossing the Line

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She seemed to be about five foot five. Her skin was ashen, except where the cold had left her cheeks and the tip of her nose rosy.

Her long, auburn hair spilled over her thick jacket, and her big blue eyes looked like they had a hint of violet in them.

“What, do I have something on my face?” Her eyes got huge. “Am I bleeding, too?”

“No. Sorry. Um…are you okay?” I reached out for her, and she glared at me, so I retracted my offer to help her.

Guess I couldn’t blame her; I had just hit her with my Jeep.

Chapter Two

Grace

Nothing saysWelcome to Wisconsinlike a totaled car.

My parents were going to flip out. Hell, I was flipping out. I was supposed to head off to basic training in three months. Third-generation Air Force. An injury could screw everything up.

My wrist better not be broken.

Something was seriously wrong, though. The adrenaline had faded, and my pinky and ring fingers were tingling, like they were falling asleep or something, and a sharp pain shot through my hand. The mere thought of my wrist being badly hurt made my stomach churn.

And the way this guy, Ryan’s, bumper clipped my hand as I was jumping out of the way.

I’ll be fine. I’ll be fine.

Ryan leaned against his Jeep, which didn’t look like it got banged up too badly, unlike my SUV.Dang it!He gripped his neck and then started rubbing it. He winced slightly, then checked out his makeshift mitten bandage.

He was tall, maybe six feet, and wore a silver stocking cap from which dark hair curled up over the rim of the fabric. He probably had a head of moppy brown hair under there. His skin was the color of beach sand almost, but his cheeks were red, probably from the cold. He threw me a confused glance with his dark brown eyes.

His friend paced the slick asphalt near us. She was short, maybe five-four, tops. She had long, shiny, blond hair flowing out from beneath a silver-and-maroon stocking cap. She smiled as she came alongside me. Her pale complexion carried a hint of silver to it. Or it was only the light from the lamppost splashing over her smooth skin.

“You okay?” she asked, her eyes scanning me from head to toe.

“Eh, it could be worse.” I shifted my weight. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Jessa. Sorry we had to meet like this.”

“Grace.” A blast of cold air slapped me in the face as I sat here on this cold curb. The squirmy dog inched away from me, whimpering.

“Here, let me take him.” Jessa grabbed the dog, and I was actually thankful for the relief. She quickly set the animal in the idling Jeep.

I drew in a deep breath of the cold air, working to find my calm. It was tough right now with the pain intensifying every passing minute and the arctic wind slicing at my exposed skin. What was up with Wisconsin in March? I thought it would be warmer by now. Then again, thiswaswarm compared to Alaska.

Suck it up, Grace. You’re tough.

I was going to be third-generation Air Force. Not to mention the five uncles who’d served. I didn’t know how to be anythingbuttough.

I let out a long breath and gritted through the pain.

The sounds of sirens cut through the arctic air, and Preach flinched. “We’re screwed.”

“It’ll be fine,” Jessa said.

“We’re totally getting tickets.”

“Wait, what?” I asked.

“Driving after midnight is illegal in Wisconsin. Well, unless you’re going to school or work, or if you’re eighteen, which we aren’t.” He pointed to himself and Jessa. “And we got into an accident.”


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