EDGE (29 page)

“What is it? What’s going on?” Linnet’s eyes widened as she took in a quilt-wrapped, love-tussled Emily, and Mel’s murderous face.

“Go wake up Nicole, and get rid of that damn cigarette.” Mel helped Emily onto the couch. “Don’t you dare move.”

“Is everything all right?” Linnet asked, whipping the smoke behind her back. She moved closer to Emily as though she needed protection from her. What a laugh, Mel thought. The person needing protection was that penis-thinking snake.

“Just go and get Nicole.” Mel slowly enunciated each word. People needed to start doing what she said when she said it, rather than questioning what she said.

“Okay. Be right back.” Linnet ran from the room, cigarette back between her lips.

Mel paced in front of Emily, dragging in deep breaths in an effort to calm herself. It didn’t work. Emily followed her with her eyes as though she was watching a tennis match.

“Aunt Mel—”

Mel stopped cold and faced Emily. “Did he force you?”

“What? No, of course not. Tom’s a gentleman.”

Mel scoffed. “Yeah, I just bet he is. What did he lure you with? What did he promise you that had you out there bare-assed on a blanket with him?”

“What are you talking about? Nothing. He promised me nothing.” Emily twisted her lips. “He was sport, that’s all.”

“Sport?
Sport?
” What kind of games did kids play these days? What the hell happened to baseball? Had she been away from civilization so long that she was this out of touch?

“Yeah. It’s boring as church here, and Tom is entertaining.”

“You instigated this?” Mel stared at her.

Emily squirmed in the folds of the quilt. “He was up for it too.”

“Yeah, I just bet he was.” Mel snorted.

Emily looked away from Mel. “So, what now?”

“Now, we wait for your mother.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “Ooh, I’m really scared.”

“Excuse me, young lady?” Nicole said, from just inside the room, dressed in sweats and an old T-shirt, her arms folded across her chest. Linnet stood to her left.

Mel wondered how long they’d been standing there listening to the head-banging conversation between her and Emily. A raging headache had developed behind her temples in the few minutes she’d talked with Emily. How did Nicole do this everyday?

Nicole walked farther into the room and towered over her daughter. “Want to tell me why you aren’t in your bed?”

Emily gave her mother a bored look. “Not really.”

A gasp came from Linnet. Mel wanted to do the same but didn’t have the breath in her body to utter a sound. The kid had balls or was missing a brain.

“Want to try again?” Nicole asked in a quiet tone of voice that spoke volumes.

“What do you care? Like you give a shit about what happens to me.”

“Oh, that’s right. I forgot. The ‘woe is me’ speech. ‘I tore you away from your friends, your boyfriend, and everything you know, landing you in this godforsaken place.’ Did I leave anything out?”

“Yeah, you did. You forgot the part where you drove away my father!”

Nicole recoiled as though Emily had hit her. “I did not drive your father away. He left because he’s a selfish bastard who wanted a younger piece of—” She stopped herself and ran a shaky hand through her hair. “Forget I said that. I don’t want to badmouth your father.” She sighed. “I don’t know why he left us.” She turned and paced away from Emily.

Mel and Linnet might as well have been paintings on the wall taking in the show.

Finally, Nicole seemed to come to a decision and turned back to Emily. She took a seat next to her daughter. “Listen, I wanted to spare you all the sordid details of the divorce because he’s your father and you love him. You’re old enough to know that not every relationship ends in the fairytale. All I know is that he woke up one day and decided he wanted something different. I’m sorry, Emily, that you and Quentin have to go through this, and I wish things were different. I miss him too.”

Silent tears started to roll down Emily’s cheeks, making her actually look her young age. “Why doesn’t he want us?”

“I wish I knew.” Nicole put her arm around Emily, and Emily allowed her mother to draw her near. “It isn’t your fault, sweetheart, and looking for love with another man isn’t going to bring your father back. Somehow, we have to move on and make a new life.” She kissed the top of Emily’s head. “Hopefully, your father will come to his senses someday and realize what he gave up. Then it will be your decision whether you let him into your life or not. The man has a lot to be forgiven for.”

Emily cried into her mother’s shoulder. Nicole held her, smoothing the hair down her back. Mel shifted on her feet, feeling uncomfortable. Linnet sniffed and wiped tears off her own face.

How had Nicole become such an understanding mother when their own mother hadn’t understood anything? Why hadn’t her mother held her and let her cry when her life had been torn apart instead of telling her to straighten up and put on a happy face?

Mel turned away from the domestic picture as envy and longing warred inside her.

Cache dragged Tom into the room sporting a shiner and a bleeding lip.

Now here was something she could fight.

“Listen, I had no idea she was only
sixteen
.” Tom’s voice cracked. “She told me she was twenty-one,” he whined.

Mel was so angry over this pompous piece of trash touching her niece, she had to swallow bile in order to speak. “Which tells us how gullible you are if you believed that,” Mel said. “Just how
old
are you?”

Tom looked like the caged snake he was. His eyes flicked around the room, his body twitching as though waiting for a weakness to strike, or an escape route to slither away. “Uh…twenty-nine.”

“At the age of twenty-nine you didn’t think you were too old for a twenty-one-year old?”

He glanced around the room at the women staring daggers at him. “Twenty-one is legal.”

“Since you brought it up, why don’t we talk about what
is
legal.” Mel stared him down. “Sit.”

Tom swallowed hard enough the whole room heard it, and with Cache’s help, he fell into a chair close to the fireplace.

“This is a case of statutory rape,” Mel said, placing her hands on her hips and standing in front of him.

“
What?
” Tom asked, panic squeaking his voice. He attempted to rise out of his seat but Cache shoved him back into it.

“I told you to stay away from her,” Cache said, with a shake of his head.

Mel turned her attention to Cache. “You knew this was going on?”

“No. Other than what you’d noticed yourself the other day when they went missing.”

Mel swiveled back to Tom, relieved Cache hadn’t been a part of any of this. “Why don’t you tell us what’s been going on between the two of you?”

“Nothing. Other than that little Lolita following me around all the time. I should have known she was up to no good.” Tom pointed an accusing finger in Emily’s direction.

“Excuse me?” Emily pushed out of her mother’s arms and stood, wiping at any remaining tears. “
Lolita?
Following you around? Who asked
whom
to meet him under the pilings tonight? Huh?” Emily stood, having wrapped the blanket around her like towel, her hands on her hips, copying Mel’s stance, looking ready to skin her first man.

Her niece was made of tough stuff. She’d survive this summer, Mel thought. Damn, if she wouldn’t.

“Uh...it’s your word against mine. Besides, what sixteen year-old dresses the way you do?” He waved his hands toward Emily’s breasts. “Showing off all your assets.”

“Shut up, Tom,” Cache warned. “You’re in enough trouble here.”

“Since we’re on the subject of the truth, why don’t you tell everyone why you’re
really
here, Slick.” Emily’s expression went as smug as a poker player holding all the aces. She turned to Cache. “You, too,
Mr. Cruise.
”

Tom licked his lips. “Uh…Emily—”

Mel looked straight at Cache, forgetting all about Tom for the moment. “What is she talking about?”

Cache closed his eyes as though dreading where this conversation was headed. He opened them and looked directly at Mel, pleading with her to stop this before it went any further.

“They’re here to do a story on Aunt Mel. Tom is an editor for
World Events,
and Cache, here, is that famous photographer who took Mel’s picture…so…long…ago.” Emily’s voice lost momentum at the end of her truth-telling statement, obviously realizing the affect her words had on Mel.

The room went silent, and all looked to Mel for a reaction. She felt the pressure of their stares, but all she saw was Cache, and his betrayal.

She’d just made love to this man, under the midnight sun, where she’d admitted to herself she could love him.
Love him.
A man who’d lied to her from the minute they’d met. A man who’d profited from her nightmare so many years ago and had returned to profit from it all over again.

What the hell was wrong with her?

The sound of her breathing rushed loud in her ears although her lungs seemed too leaded to pull in a breath. The room spun, but Mel locked her knees and fisted her hands until it righted itself.

“Who else knows you’re here?”

“What?”

“
Who else knows where I live?
”

“The CEOs of
World Events
.” Cache looked confused.

Mel turned to Tom who tried to shy away from her, but she grabbed the weasel. “Who else?”

“Tom?” Cache asked, frowning.

“Uh…Jedidiah Dawson.”

Mel sucked in air and stumbled back. “H-he’s—” she swallowed “—he’s dead. I know he’s dead.”

“Not him. His son. Jed Junior.”

She hadn’t been hallucinating. Someone
had
been watching her, playing tricks on her. Jed had been nine the last time she’d seen him. Now he was the spitting image of his psychotic father. A shiver of apprehension chilled her. She wanted to wrap her arms around herself. “Jed? You told Jed where I am? When?” She grabbed him again when he looked to Cache and shook him. “
When, goddamn you?
”

“Uh…I met with him a few weeks before we came here.” Mel released him, falling back, but he continued. “I wanted the full story. You and the members of the Ascension, “Twenty Years Later, Where Are They Now.” His voice fell weak at the end.

“You son of a bitch,” Cache said, taking hold of Tom and slamming a fist in his face.

Tom’s head snapped back and he crashed against the coffee table, fell to the floor, and stayed there.

Cache reached for her. “Mel—”

She slowly shook her head, stepping back, her hands falling to her sides. “Get the hell off The Edge. Both of you.”

She swiveled on her heel, and bolted from the room.

Mel found herself overlooking the garden, her breathing rapid, with no idea how she got here or why. She stared at the even rows, nice and neat, so orderly. So different from her life.

How had this happened? She’d been so careful, so in control of her life, her environment.

She stood there, shaking, and looked from row to row until she came to the broccoli.

Jed must have planted it. Broccoli was an Ascension staple.

Her heart pounded so hard in her chest she physically hurt.

That damn Jedidiah Dawson and his cult followers had fed her a diet of nothing but broccoli, collard greens, and flaxseed everyday for the two hundred and seventy-three days she’d been their prisoner. The son of a bitch had believed if he fed her foods high in folic acid, she’d become pregnant with his child.

Her vision blurred with past memories.

She’d been twelve, so young she hadn’t started her period yet. She’d told him it was impossible, but that hadn’t stopped the asshole from raping her. He’d believed that only an innocent would beget him a child, one that would bring about the next Son of God, and she was “the chosen.”