Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Being called out so accurately burned. “I’ve been a pariah since you’ve known me.”
“My family has never seen you that way,” Elton said. “In fact, a lot of families in this town see you for the amazing person you are. It’s just the law of the land that assholes are always the loudest.”
“I know. I know that.” Eve took a breath. “You might not understand this, but the only way to salvage my pride is to lean into that image now. I have to own it and show them I don’t give a fuck what they think.”
“You don’t have to do anything. In fact, do nothing. Let the dust settle.”
“It’s never going to settle for me.”
Elton opened his mouth to respond, but the All-Nighters chose that moment to start playing, the sound of deep, plucky bass filtering in through the heavy velvet curtain. Out of necessity, Elton came closer, presumably to continue their conversation. But when Veda started to sing, he stopped in his tracks, looking like he’d been struck by a bullet between the eyes. “Is that . . . that’s Veda.”
Studying his face, Eve nodded. “She’s really good, right?”
Elton took a few steps and turned to lean back heavily against the wall, his chin dropping down toward his chest. “No. She’s amazing.” He raked a hand through his hair, letting it fall to his side, listening to her croon the chorus, start to finish. “I said something stupid and she overheard it. Now she won’t even look at me. I didn’t realize how much I need her to look at me until she stopped doing it.”
“Aren’t you taking her sister out tonight?”
“She’s here,” he said, sounding numb. “She’s at the bar.”
“Jesus, Elton.” Eve shook her head. “You’re the one who needs some advice.”
“Hit me.”
Eve never got the chance, because the All-Nighters finished their first song with a blistering high note from Veda. And before they could launch any further into the set list, Veda stumbled through the opening in the curtain, Situation Smith hot on her heels.
“What’s wrong?” Veda asked him.
“What’s wrong?” Smith advanced rather menacingly into Veda’s space, poking her hard in the chest with his index finger. “You’re showing off on purpose.” A shove of Veda’s shoulder. “You’re so fucking selfish—”
Eve was already on her feet, readying to knock the kid’s head right off its block, but there wasn’t a chance for her to intervene. In the blink of an eye, Elton’s hand manacled Smith’s throat, ripping him completely out of Veda’s orbit. With a sound Eve had never heard come from a human being before, Elton lifted the guy clean off the ground and body-slammed him to the floor, getting right in his face.
“Believe me, I was looking for any excuse to beat the shit out of you. Any excuse except you putting your fucking hands on her,” Elton said through his teeth. “And you looked so comfortable doing it, I’m not even going to let you off with a warning. You don’t deserve one.” A right cross caught the musician in the nose, the crunch of cartilage leaving no room for speculation—that nose was broken. His agonized wail was further proof. “Touch her again and I’ll break every bone in your fucking body.”
For once, Veda appeared to have nothing to say, standing stock-still and regarding the scene before her with an expression of confused shock. Eve moved to stand behind her friend, wrapping an arm around her shoulders from behind. “Oops,” Eve murmured. “Looks like you have to finish the set on your own.”
Eve’s remark didn’t get the desired laugh, but at least she’d tried.
Elton stood slowly, shaking out his fist. “Are you okay?” he asked Veda, voice gravelly, his gaze so packed full of yearning, Eve felt compelled to look away to give them some privacy.
“As okay as I can be, I guess,” said Veda quietly. “For a living, breathing headache.”
Wincing, Elton came forward. “I didn’t mean that, sweetheart.”
“Don’t call me sweetheart when you picked my sister.” She huffed a humorless laugh. “Everyone always does.”
“I didn’t pick her, babe,” Smith protested from his bleeding sprawl on the floor.
“Shut the fuck up, Smith,” everyone shouted at the exact same time.
Smith rolled over onto his side and curled up in the fetal position.
“You set me up with your sister,” Elton said, throwing up his hands. “What was that? Some kind of test?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I was hoping you’d be different.” Veda looked down at her hand, as if surprised to find herself still holding the wireless microphone. “I’m going to pick myself from now on. Because if I don’t pick myself, no one will.”
“Veda . . .” Elton rasped.
But she was already gone, stomping back onstage with a countdown for the band and belting the opening lyric, which just happened to be “That man’s no good.”