Edge of Anarchy (Edge of Collapse, #4)

by Kyla Stone

His legs wouldn’t move. He couldn’t feel his feet. He couldn’t feel anything from the waist down.

She had to warm Liam’s torso and get his core body temperature up without sending him into rewarming shock.

There was nothing. Nothing but herself.

He couldn’t say no to her. He’d always been worthless at denying a beautiful woman anything. Especially a woman like Hannah.

Liam was in love with Hannah Sheridan.

She needed to tell him who had done this to her, but it could wait for a bit. A few minutes, at least.

He knew it was petty and spiteful. He knew it and couldn’t help it. Maybe he was a lesser man than he’d always believed himself to be.

You sound like you’ve been drinking the Kool-Aid, Noah.”

“Things are under control. Fall Creek is under control.”

“The consolidation of power in the guise of public safety. It’s an age-old game that’s been played a thousand times throughout time on government stages large and small. The erosion of our rights is the slow death of freedom. We’re the frogs basking in the warm pan bath while the water boils us to death, and some of us don’t even realize it.”

“We honor civil authority wherever possible, to the point where such authority abuses the people it is set up to protect. Where the government threatens freedom and violates those God-given rights, we have a duty to resist.”

“You should see him with Dad. It’s like he thinks Dad’s an alien or something. He gets all growly and mad.”

“These plants are called Lamb’s ear,” Quinn explained. “They have soft, absorbent leaves that are big and broad. They’re edible and medicinal. They can be used as bandages and have anti-bacterial properties. They’re best known as a good toilet paper alternative. Mullein works great, too, with its larger leaves.”

“Lamb’s ear can be grown indoors in small pots in winter, too. Once you dry them flat, you put them in a jar or Ziploc baggie to use whenever you need it.”

Nothing that truly mattered in life came easily. That was as true before the collapse as after. Nothing was owed to you. Nothing. Not love. Not freedom. Not even family. Relationships weren’t a given. They weren’t a right. They were made. They were forged through blood, sweat, and tears. Through time, energy, and commitment. Through good times and bad, through hope and despair.

Love had to be earned. So did freedom. Sometimes it had to be earned again and again. If you weren’t careful, it slipped right through your fingers.