Lost Paladin: A Dark and Twisted Urban Fantasy (The Broken Bard Chronicles Book 2) by Eden Hudson

Author:Eden Hudson [Hudson, eden]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: sort1
Published: 2021-01-29T05:00:00+00:00

Desty

As tired as I was, as soft as the bed was, and as cool as the air was, I couldn’t sleep. Cycling into REM in a bedroom surrounded by fallen angels who wanted to torture and kill me, just down the hall from the alpha who wanted to use my sister and me to take over the world, just didn’t sound that appealing. So I laid awake on the softest mattress I had ever touched, under a downy comforter, on top of silk sheets, jumping every time I heard the mansion’s central air click on.

My thoughts kept swirling around in the same torturous patterns, finding new flaws, picking apart old ones, listing all the reasons everyone I’d ever loved had been right to leave me behind.

I missed Tough. I really, really wanted to hate him, but all I could freaking do was miss him.

The really pathetic thing was I couldn’t even be mad at him. The harder I tried to convince myself that Tough was the bad guy, the clearer his face after he killed Jax became. It wasn’t Tough’s fault. Everything had fallen apart around him. When your world shatters, you need someone strong. Someone with a spine. Someone who can help you fight back. Doormats need not apply.

Finally, I got up. The on-suite bathroom, in keeping with the luxury of the rest of the mansion, was all glass and stone-tile. The shower had six different shower heads—all of which spit out water that was practically boiling as soon as I turned it on.

It felt like everything from the past week was clinging to me. I undressed and stepped into the water, hoping it would burn the top few layers of my skin off.

Try and try, but you can’t wash off what’s inside. A line from one of Tough’s songs.

I shut my eyes and leaned into the spray. You really couldn’t—wash it, run away from it, ignore it. It didn’t matter what you did. When you looked in the mirror, it was still going to be you. When I got out of the shower, it was still going to be me. Coward. Idiot. Sperm dumpster.

God, it was no wonder everyone thought I was so naïve. Just get a guy to stick his dick in me and I would pour out my heart at his feet like a needy child.

I smacked the stone wall of the shower, then pulled my fist back and punched it. I had never hit anything that hard before, not even in Self Defense/P.E. in high school. The pain razored through my knuckles and down into my wrist. I winced and checked to make sure I wasn’t bleeding.

Good one, genius. Breaking your hand should help. I cradled it against my stomach.

My wrist brushed across the bellybutton charm Harper had given me so Tough’s next feeding wouldn’t kill me. A little red grenade, hand-picked by Scout to remind me what I was.

Before I could think about it, I grabbed the charm and ripped it out. Blood trickled down my stomach.

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