Honkytonk Hell: A Dark and Twisted Urban Fantasy (The Broken Bard Chronicles Book 1) eden Hudson (best book club books txt) 📖

and plugging it in. Then he pulled a pick from his pocket and gave the crowd a wave and smile as if he was apologizing for being a little drunk.

Somebody on the other side of the room laughed, but everyone I could see looked like they were holding their breath.

And watching Tough.

He faced his band mates and nodded—two, three, four times—then picked out the opening to “Streets of Bakersfield” as he turned back to the crowd. Willow whooped and she, Owen, and Camo-Hat jumped in.

I don’t know how to make music, but I do love it. I appreciate it like someone who eats five-star meals but doesn’t know how to boil water. Camo-Hat, Owen, and Willow were good—“awesome” Mom would’ve said back when she still cared enough to talk—but even I could tell they weren’t in the same class as Tough. He was so good that he made the rest of the band look better. He shined like a jarful of sunlight. The crowd worshipped him.

For a second, I kind of wanted to hate him. How could he be smiling like that? His brother had been enthralled by the most vicious enforcer I’d ever heard of. If I knew for sure that Tempie was a familiar, I wouldn’t be having fun in a bar.

But if Tempie was a familiar, what could I do? Suicide-proof the house and wait for her angel to cast her off? If she was with an alpha, that could take months. How long could I just sit around doing nothing, knowing my sister’s brain was corroding?

Tough’s brother was thirty-four days into something that he shouldn’t have survived past day eighteen. I’d heard Willow say it and I knew it was amazing, but it hadn’t dawned on me what that really meant—Colt was beating Mikal. He couldn’t hold out forever and, if the articles were right, then the more brutality Mikal got to use to break him, the more fun she would have. But Colt had already gone almost twice what most people enthralled to an enforcer had.

I hugged my arms around the pain in my stomach. Maybe it hurt like heck to know your brother was a familiar, but maybe it was also a twisted kind of comfort to know he hadn’t lost yet.

When the song ended, Tough cocked his head and looked right at me. The pause stretched out. People started yelling requests, but Tough kept staring at me like he was trying to see inside my skin. I squirmed. What if he could read minds?

Don’t think about how hot he is. Or how hot his brother is. Or how you saw his brother’s—

Stellar job, brain. Great first instincts.

Finally, Tough started another song, banging out raw resentment with a country twang. I didn’t recognize the tune, but the crowd went nuts.

Camo-Hat laughed and started to sing—

“You kept me cheap and down,

Bullshit me all over town,

Taught me to love pain,

That I ain’t worth anything.

But anymore the sex don’t distract

From the bitch I’m looking at.

Now I’m pretty sure

I ain’t the only whore,

And I’m done crawling back for more.”

Everyone who knew the song started yelling along with Camo-Hat when he got to the chorus:

“This town can suck me.

Protection can fuck me.

You can keep my soul.

I already leased out that hole,

When I lost my halo in your bed.”

Tough

When the set was over and we were putting stuff up, I was shaking a little bit. Not enough for someone looking at me to notice, but enough that I felt it in my stomach. Adrenaline, a good set, and a little showing off always did that to me, got me so jacked up I could run all night.

“Wipe that shit-eating grin off your face or I’ll do it for you.” Owen swung his fiddle case at my nuts as he passed by. “Look like a damn possum.”

I slapped his case down and threw up my arms like Let’s go!

Owen got up in my face, all crazy-eyed and grinning.

“Need your ass kicked, boy?” he asked, banging against my chest, trying to shove me back.

I nodded and yanked my hat down tight like I was ready to tear into him.

“You been hanging around them big-city pussies too long if you don’t remember what a Grade-A, certified, country-fried badass who will fuck you up looks like,” Owen hollered.

Willow rolled her eyes.

“I want to get to the bonfire sometime before sunrise,” she said. “You guys either settle this at the farm or borrow Rowdy’s tape measure and get it over with.”

“Oh, hell yes, I got this one,” Owen said, pretending to go for his fly.

I gave him the Up Yours sign and kicked the lid of my guitar case shut. Desty was still hanging back along the wall. I wished she’d come over.

Dodge saw where I was looking.

“Why don’t you bring your girl out to the farm,” he said. “Nothing like a bonfire for a little romance.”

Owen started humping the air and singing, “Get that truck a-rocking like a Garth Brooks song—”

But Willow said, “You should totally bring her. I’ll go ask her for you.” She locked up her headphone case and headed for the stairs, passing close enough by me that I could’ve stopped her if I’d wanted to. “Desty!”

I snapped the latches shut on my case and hopped off the stage beside Willow.

Desty smiled at me and that shaking feeling in my stomach spread out to my arms and legs. I hadn’t noticed before that I was pretty much soaked in sweat. I took off my hat and wiped the damp hem of my t-shirt across my face.

“A bunch of us are going to Dodge’s for a Welcome Home bonfire for Tough,” Willow said. “You should come.”

“Right now?” Desty asked.

“Got anywhere else to