Move the Sun (Signal Bend Series) Read Online Free PDF

mouth. She squealed as the tape took some skin with it. Victor pulled a wheeled tool chest up alongside Jimmy, and Isaac grabbed a stool and sat in front of Meg. She was the weaker link.
    Isaac leaned in a bit. Her throat was swollen, with a gash still leaking some blood, where Sport had landed her punch. Sport—that’s were he should be right now, dammit, his hands around her naked ass. That amazing ass. He tried to smile at Meg, but it came out a snarl. “Okay, Meg, sweetheart. This is how we play. I ask you questions. I don’t like your answer, Vic takes something off your man. Do you understand the rules of the game?”
    Meg took a big breath and began to blather. “Ike, man, you don’t gotta do that. You and Jimmy’s friends. I know you don’t want to hurt him, that’s crazy—NO!”
    Isaac had nodded to Victor, who picked up a pliers and attached it to the nail of Jimmy’s swollen right pinkie. Without so much as a pause for a breath, he yanked, pulling the nail straight out. Still gagged, Jimmy screamed like a 12-year-old girl at a boy band concert. His eyes bugged out. Victor dropped the bloody nail into a steel bucket at his feet. The bucket was not small.
    Isaac turned back to Meg. “The question I asked was Do you understand the rules of the game ? You didn’t answer. Now I’m asking again. Do you understand?”
    Weeping hard now, Meg nodded. “I understand.”
    “Good. Let’s get to the real questions, then.”

INTERLUDE: 1994
     
    Johnny Accardo was up well before dawn on a mid-autumn Saturday, dressing quickly and lacing up his boots. He went to Lilli’s room and knocked lightly. When he got no answer, he opened the door a couple of inches and peeked in.
    Her bed was already made. No longer was there a long line of stuffed animals arrayed across the pillows; his daughter had boxed them up a few years ago, declaring that she was too old for them. All but one: a mangy, spotted dog. She’d had it her whole life. Its name was Dog. Johnny closed the door and continued down the hall.
    He heard the sounds of breakfast. Somehow, he’d managed to be the last one up. He was impressed. His mother, who had moved in with them shortly after Lilli’s mother’s suicide, was pulling hard rolls off a baking sheet. Breakfast in this Italian home had almost always been coffee or hot chocolate and hard rolls with jam. Sometimes polenta in the winter. Neither Mena nor his mother had been able to adapt to the American way of cold cereal or eggs and meat. Johnny knew that one of the reasons Lilli enjoyed occasional sleepovers at her friends’ houses was the chance to have brightly-colored, sugared cereal for breakfast.
    When he came into the kitchen to pour himself some coffee, he saw Lilli packing up their lunch. She’d already filled their two big thermoses, too. She was dressed and ready. His girl. “Morning, Papa.”
    “Morning, cara . I think you’re going to bag your first today. What do you think?”
    She shrugged. “ You always say that. I’ll try, Papa.”
    “I know you will.”
    His mother pushed him to the table. “ Siediti, Gianni, avere qualcosa da mangiare .”
    “ Dirlo in inglese, Mamma . In English.” Natalia and Giovanni Accardo had immigrated to the United States with Johnny when he was three. They all became naturalized citizens, but she’d never assimilated well, and his father, enjoying the little piece of home in his home, had accommodated her refusal to learn English or any understanding of American culture. But his father had died ten years ago, and now his mother was Lilli’s primary caregiver. Lilli was old beyond her fifteen years, but he needed his mother to be able to handle crises on her own. Without the language, she could not. Sometimes, he thought that he’d only made things harder for Lilli by bringing her grandmother in to live with them. But he traveled a lot for work, and he could not leave his daughter alone. Her mother had already done that.
    Besides, Lilli and