Edge of Anarchy (Edge of Collapse, #4)

by Kyla Stone

No one had taken care of him. Not anymore. She was here. She would take care of him. This time, she would save him.

There was nothing untoward in this act. Nothing wrong. Not with her nakedness. Not with what she was about to do.

She fitted her soft body to his strong, muscled one, wrapping her thin arms around his, folding her legs over his thighs. She pressed herself against him, willed the warmth of her own body into his, her vitality, her life force.

Even though Rosamond had given Dave a house in Winter Haven, he had a generator for his garage and pretty much lived here—only eating, showering, and sleeping at the new house.

Chief Briggs was a dour bulldog of a man who’d resisted the out-of-the box thinking and rapid-fire decisions required to effectively respond to the EMP crisis. It was better for Fall Creek that he’d abandoned his post to protect his grown son and daughter-in-law in St. Joe, a nearby town.

So you've been told. Did you see him leave.

Since Quinn was a bit of an artist, Milo was suddenly interested in drawing.

Rosamond had given him one of the houses in Winter Haven, which he’d generously shared with three of his long-time friends and their families.

So you've said. She sure likes to repeat herself unnecessarily. It was literally in the beginning of this chapter. That's the only thing I don't care for. Like when she first mentioned it she could have followed up with this info. It's out of place here. So many times she's done this but I ignored but it just keeps on.

Bishop, Reynoso, Perez, and a few others had been gone for two days.

Rosamond had sent them out on a goodwill rescue mission ostensibly for all of Fall Creek, but in reality, she was searching for her son, Gavin Pike.

Dave lowered his voice even further. “So Bishop doesn’t know about the Crossway community pantry?”

“What do you think he’s gonna do?” “Nothing. He’s going to accept it like everyone else.”

Dave pursed his lips. He studied Noah, hesitating for a moment before speaking. “It does seem a little…strict.”

“It’s simply about consolidating the supplies so it’s easier to keep ...

Noah blew out a frustrated breath. “Did you ask me here to berate me, too, Dave?”

Look at that. The strain is getting to you.

“Hey man, I’m as laid back as they come. Just sharing some concerns. As a friend.”

“Hey, can you blame the council for getting upset when the superintendent makes unilateral decisions without consulting anyone? We haven’t had a town hall or council meeting in a week.”

“I’m just saying, the only people who’ve got the food now are the militia. A bunch of strangers with guns. People aren’t happy, man. I know that bothers you, too.”

So everybody else got sense but Noah.

But concessions had to be made to keep the peace. To protect the town. Noah was tired of defending himself, tired of defending the superintendent.

THEN STOP! Do your freaking job.

I’ve seen Julian down by the river across from the Inn a few times. I wonder if he’s caught anything good.”

Julian had always had a capacity to be vindictive and spiteful.

He’d never turned that rancor on Noah—until now.

They boiled water that Quinn had pumped from the well in a large pot on the wood stove.

When the water started steaming and forming small bubbles, Quinn took the pot from the stove, carted it into the bathroom, and set it on the counter.

She stripped out of her dirty clothes, then carefully dipped a hand towel in the water and allowed it to wick up the hot water...

She used the hot, wet towel with a bar of hand soap to wipe down and disinfect her arms and torso, back and legs, feet and armpits, then private parts last.

Privates last? Like after washing her feet? Is that normal… or have I been doing it wrong all this time?!?

Blue was her favorite color, but that wasn’t the real reason why she’d kept it dyed. She stared at the black roots until her eyes blurred. With her dark hair, everyone used to say how much she looked like Octavia Riley. Her meth-head mother was the last person she’d wanted to resemble.

“It’s not a joke. Shampoo strips your hair of its natural oils. You don’t really need it.”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t really been washing your hair all this time. Is that where that funny smell comes from?” “Watch that sass, smarty-pants.” Gran bent beneath the sink again and came up with a box of baking soda. “Use this.”

Mix baking soda, water, and a few drops of lavender essential oil in an empty shampoo bottle and shake to make a paste, and there you go. Homemade shampoo.”

“Don’t knock it until you try it, girl. It’s very useful. You can also use baking soda to make a great toothpaste, too.”

My grandma used to do this when we ran out of toothpaste. Lol ooooh I love it.

“It’s got a three-year shelf life and works great for dozens of uses other than baking. It provides relief for bug bites, rashes, inflammation, and itching. You can make mouthwash or mix it with cornstarch for deodorant. It’s as close to a miracle product as we’re going to get.”

what matters is whether it works. The cheaper it is, the more versatile, and the easier to store, the better.”

“Don’t blame Noah. I don’t like what I heard about you attacking that fool soldier. Not one bit.”

“Yes.” Quinn heaved a sigh. “I know, Gran. I know. I was all set on being careful and being patient, just like you said. But when that jerkwad Desoto started pushing Milo around, I just lost it. He was choking a little kid, Gran. I had to do something.”

“How long was I out?” “Three days.” He winced. “Three days?” “It was touch and go for a while.” She nibbled on her lower lip. “I thought—I thought you wouldn’t make it.”

“I’m hard to kill.” “Yeah, well.” She looked away. Her cheeks reddened. “We were worried.”

With every word she spoke, his rage grew—but also his pride. He was proud of her. Proud of how she’d fought like a wild thing to protect herself and her child.

“He’s still down there.” “Leave him to rot.”

“You’re recovering from hypothermia. You’re injured, and you almost died. You don’t have to do every single thing yourself.” Liam only grunted.

“You’re as stubborn as a toddler.” Ghost chuffed in amusement. Liam glared at him. “What are you looking at?” Ghost just thumped his tail. “Traitor,” Liam grumbled. “I thought you were on my side.” “He’s on all our sides,” Hannah said. “But mine more.” “I suppose that’s only fair.”

“Liam. You did the same for me.” “It’s not the same.” “Of course it is.” She was right. He still didn’t have to like it.

A hint of mischief gleamed in her eyes. “Besides, I kind of like you like this.” “Naked?”

“All flustered and discombobulated. It’s a ref...

He couldn’t drag his gaze from her. Her skin seemed to shimmer in the firelight. The warm light highlighted her cheekbones, the delicate slope of her nose, her small stubborn chin. The way her green eyes shone.

“You’ve suffered for everyone else. You served your country. You gave your body, your mind, risked your life.” She gave him a small smile. “Let someone else help you for once. Let me help you.”

“Trust me,” she said. He did. God help him, but he did.

Her nearness was a little unnerving, but also comforting. It was intimate in a way that he couldn’t remember ever experiencing before. It felt good. It felt right.

She traced a scar on his lower back. She touched him with a tenderness that almost made him weep for reasons he couldn’t name or explain.

His defenses were down. She’d disarmed him completely.

The tears came then. He didn’t try to stop them. Sorrow broke over him in waves.

Yes they are. Omg. I already know all this and here I am crying again.