Honkytonk Hell: A Dark and Twisted Urban Fantasy (The Broken Bard Chronicles Book 1) eden Hudson (best book club books txt) đ
- Author: eden Hudson
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âYouâre not crazy, Colt. Iâve read a lot about the emotional and psychological effects of being a familiar andââ
âI read those AIPM articles, too,â he said. âFairhaven Syndrome and objectification, right? But there werenât any articles that mentioned a familiar who had his burning angel forced out and then came back to life.â
âBurning angel?â
A dark blush bled into Coltâs cheeks.
âFallen angel,â he whispered. âI said âfallen angel.ââ
âColt, Iâm sorry, Iââ
âI think her getting forced out destroyed a lot. If this was all going according to the articles, I should be able to remember everything from before, shouldnât I?â He scratched the irritated skin of his throat where the collar had been. âAnd I should be begging like a good dog.â
âMaybe youâre different,â I said, but it seemed like he wasnât listening.
âIf I tried to cope with the objectification by creating Ryderâ But I should still be able to remember what my parents looked like, shouldnât I?â
âMaybe none of this is permanent.â I couldnât think of anything else to say.
âI sure hope not,â Colt said. âNot that youâre not cute, Grace, but I canât keep listening to Ryder going on about how Tough wouldnât know what to do with an ass like yours.â
My face got hot, but I tried to pretend like I didnât notice. âMy name isnâtââ
âYeah, well, whatever the first one was, itâs obviously too far gone to salvage now,â Colt said. âI wouldnât have planned for a survival contingency. So fucking come up with something else. Just shut up for a second.â Colt looked at me. âYouâre tired.â
It took me a second to realize heâd gone full circle from talking to me, to himself or maybe someone else, and then back around to me.
âItâs getting late,â I said. âDo you want to come inside and get some sleep?â
âThatâs all right. Iâm going to drill for a while.â
My expression mustâve given me away.
âDonât worry,â he said. âIâm not going to kill myself tonight. When Iâm training⊠Moving helps me think.â
He hadnât denied wanting to commit suicideâthatâs the first thing I would have done if I wanted someone to leave me alone so I could do itâand it wasnât as if Colt would be worried that I might be able to stop him or even slow him down if he wanted to kill himself.
I started to go.
âSheâs just going inside. Donât be such a pussy.â
I turned back around.
Colt closed his eyes.
âShit,â he said. âYou heard that.â
âI can stay out here if it would make you feel better,â I said.
He shook his head and swung the broadsword up onto his shoulder.
âIâll come in later,â he said.
âYouâre not alone,â I said. âIâm here and Tough will be back.â
âNo, he wonât,â Colt said.
âYou donât know that,â I said.
âNo one comes back, Grace.â The way Colt was looking at meâit was like he did know. Like heâd been there a million times.
Before he could say anything else, I turned around and ran up to the cabin.
When I made it inside, the broken countertop and the doorâs empty window pane were glaring at me.
God, was I the only one who couldnât see how delusional I was? I smacked both palms on the lip of the sink as hard as I could. The sting ran down my fingers and up my wrists. Tempie mightâve been on a one-way train to self-destruction, but at least she could accept reality for what it was. No one stayedânot even if they loved youâand no one ever came back. You either kept moving or you got left behind.
Colt
âHow about we start with the obvious question,â Ryder said, nodding at the punching bag. âWhat were you doing stabbing the shit out of that?â
I spun the sword back to attention and stopped moving.
A piece of six-inch PVC pipe was screwed to the side of the punching bag where a holster or sword would hang if it was a person. The cuts in the bag had all been made from below, a straight blade stabbed upward, probably in close quarter combat. And there were lip-prints. My face got hot and I looked to see whether Ryder had noticed them.
Ryderâs always had a high-pitched laugh for a guy like him.
âYou get lonely or were you practicing for Mikal?â
For a second I was back there. I felt Mikalâs open mouth on mine, her forked tongue slithering through my lips and up the back of my throat into my nasal cavity. I couldnât breathe or move my hands. They were cuffed behind me and I was scared as hell because that wasnât part of the plan. Then Mikalâs burning-tar essence flooded my brain.
The memory disappeared. I was back in the shed.
âWell, you canât blame a guy for trying,â Ryder said. âCourse, you can blame him for being retarded. Did you really think sheâd just tell you to kneel down and take it? She ainât stupid, Sunshine. Even after she had you in the lunaticâs cell for a week, she wouldnât just assume she had you broke.â
I tried to keep breathing. Focus on the light in the shed, the sword in my hand. But every time I blinked a web of glowing, red lines flickered onto the backs of my eyelids. I could feel the black noise collecting at the base of my skull, ready to drown my brain.
âGet your shit together, Colt.â Ryderâs voice was like a jolt from a Taser. Iâd heard him say that before. He had grabbed me by the back of the neck and whispered it so loud and so sharp that it drowned out my screaming.
âI can help you numb the crazy, Sunshine,â Ryder said, pushing away from the wall. âBut you got to be working out a plan to put this right
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