The Edge of Ruin by Melinda Snodgrass Read Free Book Online Page B

have arranged Lumina as an order of warrior monks, or celibate Amazons?
    Damon’s hand gripped my shoulder. Wearily I opened my eyes again. Weber smiled down at me. I was momentarily fascinated by the way the light glinted in the graying stubble on his chin. I wondered how he’d look with a beard.
    “Hey, we’re wearing you out.”
    “It’s okay.” I forced a smile and banished the thoughts that would have jeopardized the friendship we’d barely reestablished.
    “Look, you rest now. If I bring by a laptop tomorrow, do you think you could write up a report?”
    I forced energy into my voice. “You bet.”
    Suddenly my father stirred. The blinds snapped together with a metallic clink. He walked to the door and I realized that he had barely said a word.
    He opened the door and looked back at all of us. “I’d like a few words in private with my son.”
    I had heard these words too many times in my life not to know what they portended. Bile climbed up the back of my throat. I wanted to beg Angela and Damon to stay. But that wasn’t going to happen. The judge brooks no disobedience. Even Weber, a nineteen-year veteran of the police force, was suddenly in motion out the door. But Angela was made of sterner stuff.
    “I think Richard has had enough conversation. He needs to rest,” Angela said. She folded her arms across her chest, shifted her feet as if she planned on taking root in the linoleum floor, and stared defiantly at my father.
    “He can tolerate one more,” the judge said, and the level of ice in the words told me that this was a fight even Angela couldn’t win despite her reputation as the World’s Meanest Chicana. She had met her match in the World’s Toughest Man.
    “Angela, please, it’ll be okay.”
    At my words she deflated. She leaned down and pressed her lips against mine. Again there was that burst of chocolate and coffee and desperate longing. “I’ll be back in the morning. You get some sleep. Don’t stress.”
    Angela walked to the door, then looked back at Pamela, who leaned against the wall, arms folded across her breasts, clearly intending to stay. My sister’s face held an odd mix of disapproval, pleasure, and contempt. Angela’s eyes narrowed, and I realized she had decided that while she might not be up to my father’s weight she was definitely up to Pamela’s.
    “Either
everyone
or
no one
gets to hang around for the ass kicking,” Angela said.
    “This is a family matter,” Pamela flared back.
    My father walked to the door and pulled it open. “All of you, out.”
    “Papa, I think—” Pamela began.
    “Out!” It was the voice that had issued from the bench for sixteen years, and mobsters, drug dealers, and murders had quailed before it.
    No wonder I didn’t have a chance.
    The door closed, and we regarded each other. Two weeks ago he had come to my rescue. After days of beatings and torture I had been at the end of my strength and bravery. He had run into Grenier’s office and gathered me in his arms. I had never felt that safe before. Now I was hurt again, but there was none of the warmth and love I had seen in Virginia. Once again I’d disappointed him. A faint shivering invaded my gut, and a tightness filled my chest. This was going to be an ugly one.
    “This must stop.” Papa removed the hilt from his pocket and laid it on the bed next to my uninjured leg. “
This
is your life now. This and nothing else. Accept that. Because of a fluke of genetics you are the only one who can use this weapon. Had there been a more well ordered manner of selection, I’m sure you would not have been everyone’s first choice …”
    I’d lost track of his words.
But I did well in Virginia. I was clever. What could I have done differently? I didn’t break. I took it. I’m not a coward. How could I have done things better, Papa?
    “The madness that infected that father is symptomatic of events occurring across the country and around the globe.”
    “And because I had the