On the Edge of Tomorrow Read online

  The funeral replayed over and over in his mind, his stoic sister shaking hands with the vultures who’d come to gawk at the new orphans, Julie smiling sadly and thanking them for coming.

  Thanked them. Geez, what bull.

  The gawkers had only come to gossip and to speculate what would become of him now. Timbisha was small and small-town folks talked nonstop, making judgements about people and the unfortunate circumstances they ended up in. But they didn’t know what horrible “circumstance” Charlie had witnessed, or that his parents may have died because of it.

  He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remove the awful images from his mind. He was afraid to go there, to picture it again, or to hear that filthy pig ask him if he wanted a “piece” of the girl too. Billy’s laugh haunted his dreams but his threat to kill Charlie’s family if he breathed a word of what happened that night still rang out loud and clear. No, Charlie hadn’t told a soul that Billy had raped that girl, but his parents were dead anyway, killed in a freak car accident. Though Billy had left town abruptly, Charlie had no proof of either crime, and he wouldn’t risk losing his sister. He’d take that secret to the grave to keep her safe, even if she was an idiot for dating that bastard.

  “Charlie, it’s time to go.” Julie stood in the doorway leaning on the jamb, her arms wrapped around herself and a bleak smile on her face. Her cheeks were blotchy from crying again. Thankfully, she wasn’t a wailer or he’d go insane.

  “Where are we going again?” he asked without missing a bounce off the wall and ceiling.

  “We have to meet with Child Protective Services.”

  Bah-bonk. Bah-bonk. “Why?”

  Julie sighed. “We’ve gone over this, Charlie. You’re a minor with no legal guardian.”

  “So?” Bah-bonk. Bah-bonk.

  “So, Mom and Dad didn’t leave instructions on who should take care of you if something were to happen to them.”

  “Something did happen to them.” Charlie threw the ball with more force.

  “Yes, and that means that the state needs to know that you have a home to live in or you’ll go to foster care.”

  Charlie caught the ball and sat up. “Like hell. I’m not living with a bunch of strangers, Julie!” he shouted. His heart raced. He felt the awful pressure in his head, the burning in his eyes. He wouldn’t cry. He. Wouldn’t.

  She stepped into his room now, hands raised as if to quiet a frightened animal. “I won’t let them take you, bubba. Just calm down.”

  “Calm down? You just said I was going to foster care and you want me to calm down? They can’t take me from my home. I won’t go, Julie. I won’t go!” He was standing, but he didn’t remember getting to his feet. He threw the ball over her head into the hallway where it ricocheted off the walls and into the kitchen.

  “Charlie, quit yelling and put your shoes on so we can go. Throwing a fit and being late will make things worse for us.” A tear spilled down her cheek before she turned to leave his bedroom.

  He quickly tied his shoelaces and grabbed his zip-up hoodie. He found Julie in the living room looking through her purse for her keys. Impatient, he walked outside and waited by the car. When she finally clicked the fob to unlock the doors, he scrambled inside and out of the cold air.

  “Foster care, my ass,” he mumbled as he stared out the window at their small front yard. Dead petunias were still in the ring around the tree. He’d planted them with his mom last June. Now there was nothing left but brown stems and twigs that they hadn’t gotten around to digging up yet.

  They rode in silence the short distance to the Timbisha County Court House. Deputy Jarod King was standing in front when they arrived.

  “What’s Jarod doing here?”

  Julie’s eyebrows scrunched up. “I don’t know, Charlie. I guess we better get out and see what’s what, huh?”

  Charlie took a deep breath before climbing out into the frigid sunshine. His breath billowed out in a cloud while the stinging cold bit into his fingertips. He slammed the door too hard, ignoring his sister’s warning glare, and shoved his hands into the front pocket of his jacket.

  Jarod was already making his way over to them. His uniform shirt stretched over his massive chest, and the bulletproof vest underneath made him seem bigger than usual. Charlie stood taller and met the oldest King’s piecing blue eyes before Jarod placed a firm hand on Charlie’s shoulder.

  “How ya holding up, kid?”

  Charlie just shrugged. What could he say? Life sucked ass.

  “Mom and Dad are inside, along with Josh and Jason. We’re here to offer our support and to provide a reference to your character, Julie. Do you have your proposal with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good, Judge Cook will want to know how you plan to provide for Charlie. Honestly, I think it’s superb.”

  Charlie glanced at his sister, but she was steadfastly looking at the courthouse. “I hope this works,” she said as she led them to the front doors.

  SHE HOPED WHAT worked? Charlie thought as he followed his sister inside the old building. It smelled like time and history, neither of which were good.

  As promised, the entire King family was waiting for them. Josh, the youngest brother, was one of Julie’s best friends. Charlie didn’t know much about the rest of the family, but they all had friendly faces that seemed to be genuine, unlike the funeral goers the other day.

  “Charlie, these are my parents, James and Camille King,” Josh said.

  Josh and Jarod resembled their father. Mr. King was big, with piercing blue eyes and gray hair around his temples. All three of them looked formidable, commanding respect with their very presence.

  Camille King was the opposite. She had a great smile and the most beautiful green eyes Charlie had ever seen, until he was introduced to Jason, who wasn’t beautiful. He was huge and covered in tattoos. He winked at Charlie before those emerald-like eyes glared at Julie. He wondered about it for five seconds before he realized he didn’t care if Jason liked Julie or not. Charlie just wanted this day to be over with. He wanted to know what was going to happen to him. He tasted blood, not realizing he’d been chewing on his lip.

  He wiped it on his sleeve, hoping no one noticed but since life sucked right now, Mrs. King immediately stepped in front of him and handed him a tissue from her purse. “Hold it just so and it should stop bleeding, dear.” Her smile was comforting, and he scrounged up a brief smile in return.

  “Thank you, Mrs. King,” he mumbled.

  “Call me Camille, Charlie. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  He was about to ask what she meant by that when they were called into the judge’s chambers.

  Judge Cook came around a huge wooden desk that was crammed into the small office and offered a hand to Mr. King, uttering quiet words before he addressed the room.

  “My apologies for the small space. I didn’t count on James bringing his entire brood with him today.” He smiled briefly before clearing his throat. “Miss Armstrong, this informal meeting is to determine guardianship of your brother, Charlie Armstrong. I understand you have a plan you’d like to present to the court. Before doing so, I’m offering to hear it prior to making a formal decision in the event that it would need to be revised. I believe family should stick together if possible. Charlie?”

  Charlie sat straighter in his chair, answering, “Yes, sir.” He hated being the center of attention and now everyone was staring. He was sweating under the hoodie, and he swallowed the panic crawling up his neck.

  “Before we go any further, I need to know if you are willing to live with your sister or if you wish to live somewhere else.”

  He turned to Julie who was steadfastly going over the papers on her lap. Did he want to live with her? She’d dated Billy, brought him to their home and now their parents were dead. But, what choice did he have? He didn’t want to move from Timbisha, and he really didn’t want to live with strangers.

  He felt a strong hand settle on his shoulder, giving him a comforting squeeze. He glanced back and up, straight into Jason’s knowing green eyes.

  “Come on, kid. Answer Judge Cook honestly.”

  Charlie turned back to the judge. “Well, sir, I don’t want to move to Reno and live in a dorm with my sister. I want to stay here in Timbisha.”

  “I see,” Judge Cook said. “Julie, do you intend to move Charlie to Reno?”

  “No, Your Honor, I do not. I intend to stay in Timbisha until Charlie graduates from high school, sir.”

  Charlie turned to her. “But what about college? You’re almost done, Julie.”

  “I can always finish later,” she said with a sad smile.

  “But…” he began, but Judge Cook cleared his throat.

  “I will ask you one more time, Charlie. Would you like to stay here in Timbisha, in your home, and be raised by your sister?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “May I see your proposal then, Miss Armstrong?”

  Julie handed her papers to the judge. The room was silent while Judge Cook thumbed through them. Charlie’s lip stung as he bit through it again.

  “Have you purchased the vehicle for your business yet, Miss Armstrong?”

  “No, Your Honor, but I have one on hold until the custody of my brother is settled, sir.”

  “And what of a customer base? Do you think there is a need in Timbisha for a food truck operator?”

  Food truck? Charlie stared at her in disbelief.

  “Judge Cook, I can testify that a mobile restaurant would be most welcome at my worksites. My crews are large and their appetites larger. They should provide an adequate starting point for Julie’s business,” Jason said, his hand still on Charlie’s shoulder. When he said Julie’s name, he gently squeezed Charlie one more time.

 
Judge Cook glanced at Mr. King, who nodded. He seemed to think it over for a bit before he finally put all of the paperwork together and handed it back to Julie.

  “Miss Armstrong, your willingness to drop everything at school and jump into a new business for the sole purpose of caring for your younger brother is admirable. I wish more twenty-year-olds were like you. I have some reservations on the success of your business venture, along with your ability to care for your brother. If guardianship is granted you will, in essence, be his parent. Do you understand the demands that will have on you?”

  “I can’t understand because I’m not a mother. But I am a sister, and I will do anything to keep Charlie with me. I promise to make sure that he grows up healthy, happy, and that he graduates from high school, sir. It’s what my parents would’ve wanted.” She took a shaky breath, and Charlie realized that his fate rested with his sister’s ability to take care of him.

  Judge Cook looked around the room. “Can any of you gathered here think of a reason why I should not grant Miss Armstrong temporary guardianship over her brother, Charlie Armstrong?”

  Charlie held his breath for what seemed like forever, but no one said a word.

  “I can’t either,” Judge Cook said. “If you’ll wait just a few more moments, I’ll get a court reporter in here and we’ll do this all right and tight. I’m granting you temporary guardianship for one year, contingent on your ability to provide for your brother, and with evaluations every six weeks. Does that sound fair?”

  “Yes, sir,” Charlie said in unison with his sister.

  THE JUDGE HAD admonished Charlie to continue getting good grades in school, mind his sister as if she were his mother—yeah right—and stay out of trouble. If Charlie couldn’t comply with those rules, permanent custody could go to someone else.

  He’d always liked school, and his grades were near perfect. Charlie’s only challenge now would be keeping his temper reigned in. There were times when he got so mad he couldn’t control himself. He wanted to break everything he owned and run away.

  By Monday he was glad to get out of the house. “Do you want me to drive you to school?” Julie asked while she put away the breakfast pans.

  “Nah, I’m good with the bus. What are you doing today?” He honestly didn’t care what she did, but he asked out of politeness since she’d made his favorite breakfast, cinnamon pancakes and eggs. She almost had them tasting like Mom’s.

  “I need to finalize things for the food truck. Do you want to see a picture?” she asked, suddenly excited.

  Charlie wiped his mouth and got off the barstool. “Can’t. I need to get my books and head out to the bus stop.” He hurried back to his room to get his things. Out of habit, he went to the empty turtle terrarium sitting on his dresser. Trevor had died a week before his parents’ accident. He shook off the grief and gathered his things, placed them into his backpack and hauled ass out of the house.

  He pulled his hood over his head to keep the January cold off his ears and half jogged to the bus stop. Marco was kicking a hacky sack while McKayla and Hailey huddled together watching something on Hailey’s phone. Dillon and Ryan were eyeballing the girls, who pretended not to notice.

  “How’d court go?” Marco asked while juggling the sack with his feet.

  “Okay, I guess.”

  Marco stopped what he was doing to stare at Charlie. “I texted you last night. How come you didn’t text back?”

  “Dude, I just didn’t want to talk about any of it, all right?”

  Marco shrugged. “Fine. Be a bitch.”

  Charlie grinned. “Yeah, screw you too.”

  They’d been best friends since forever and had been through a lot together. When Marco’s parents were going through a divorce, he had practically lived with Charlie until the fighting stopped. When Scott Miller had decided to pick on Marco for no good reason, together they’d put a stop to that shit. Scott wasn’t a bully anymore.

  The hacky sack hit Charlie in the chest. He put his things down and kicked it around with Marco until the bus showed up.

  They followed Hailey and McKayla onto the bus. The girls sat in front of them, their noses still glued to the phone. They giggled every now and then before the bus pulled away from the stop.

  “How do they walk without looking where they’re going?” Marco asked loud enough for the girls to hear.

  “Because girls rock, Marco.” Hailey sighed, not taking her eyes off the tiny screen.

  Charlie laughed until he noticed Dillon taking a picture of Hailey with his phone from across the aisle. Charlie narrowed his eyes when an alert appeared on his own phone. He opened up the Snapchat app and found the picture of Hailey that Dillon had just taken, her blouse gaping open and focused in on the pink bra beneath.

  Dillon hadn’t just sent the Snap to Charlie, but also to his Story within the app. That meant everyone in Dillon’s contacts could view it for the next twenty-four hours. Dillon now wore a villainous smirk.

  “Hailey,” Charlie said loudly. “Button your shirt.”

  She gasped and looked down. “Oh no,” she squeaked before zipping up her jacket. “The button popped off.” She fumbled with her clothing before she turned to glare at him. “How could you know that, Charlie? You’re sitting behind me.”

  He didn’t bother answering. He was too busy staring down Dillon. “Delete it, asshole.”

  “Screw you, Armstrong. If I’d known you were such a pussy, I wouldn’t have alerted you.”

  “Take it down before I make you.” Charlie had been itching to punch something for a week, and Dillon’s face would do just fine.

  Whistles and jeers directed at Hailey now filled the bus. Everyone had seen the photo. Hailey began to cry, ratcheting up Charlie’s ever-boiling anger.

  “Decide now, Dillon. Take it down or I take you down,” Charlie said, seething. They both stood, facing each other.

  The bus had grown quiet, but Charlie didn’t care. Dillon was a douche bag for posting that picture and Charlie had had enough douche bags to last a lifetime.

  “What’s going on back there?” the bus driver asked, glaring at them in the rearview mirror.

  Dillon broke eye contact first. “Nothin’. It’s all good,” he said before sitting back down in his seat.

  “Is it?” Charlie asked.

  “Yeah, man. It was just a joke.” Dillon held up his phone. “It’s gone. Chill out, will ya?”

  Charlie sat down and didn’t say anything until they were pulling into the school grounds.

  “Thanks, Charlie,” Hailey said quietly before she scurried off the bus, head down and followed closely by McKayla.

  “Think Dillon’s gonna need a lesson anyway?” Marco asked as they followed Dillon and Ryan off the bus.

  “Probably,” he said with disgust while making his way to the first class of the day.

  BY THE END of the week Charlie was twiddling his thumbs with extra time. Without Billy there to steal his homework and “accidentally” destroy it, staying caught up was a breeze. However, the more time he had on his hands, the more he thought about his parents. He missed them terribly. Julie was her normal annoying self, thinking only about her stupid food truck business.

  It was Saturday morning, and the heavenly aroma of coffee and bacon floated underneath his bedroom door to tickle his nostrils, triggering a gnawing ache in his belly. His sister had made breakfast every morning since the funeral and his body was getting used to her cooking, even looking forward to it. She still didn’t have the cinnamon pancakes right but, damn, the bacon had been perfect three days in a row. Another loud grumble from his stomach had him swinging his feet off the bed and onto the floor.

  He stretched and yawned his way into the bathroom. He did what he needed to do, washed his hands and brushed his teeth. He contemplated popping a ginormous pimple that was forming under his left nostril, but it wasn’t ready yet. It would hurt like a bitch anyway, and he wasn’t up for self-induced pain this morning.

  Lauren Lockwood’s voice drifted to his ears from the kitchen. Charlie stopped in his tracks and looked down at himself. He’d had a secret crush on Lauren for a while. She was beautiful and funny, and every time she smiled at him it did something to his body that would be entirely noticeable in his boxers. He spun on his heel, went back to his bedroom and got dressed. He took one more look in the bathroom mirror, sucked in a breath, and popped the annoying zit under his nose. As he feared, it wasn’t ready but he got most of it and two watery eyes for his effort. He wiped the tears away, did a quick check to make sure the stupid thing wasn’t bleeding, and hurried into the kitchen.