Page 72 of Afflicted

“I know,mon amour,” she’d murmured. “I know it is painful. But you and I, we shall have the world. It is all there, for you and me.”

“She died of the Affliction.” Juliet’s voice draws me back into the moment, back into the truck as the warm breeze floats through the open windows.

“Yeah she did. Four years ago.”

“That must have been tough.” She reaches over again to take my hand, but pulls it back. I love that she wants to touch me all the time. I hate that I feel the need to push her away.

After I nearly kissed her in the forest the other day, I know I need to be more careful. Touching her too much will drive me insane. I’m one hand-hold and lip bite away from pulling over the car and bending her over the hood.

Fucking STOP IT.

She seems to sense the shift in my demeanor, turning away from me so she’s looking out the window. Her back is inches from my hand, her hair brushing over my arm as it waves about in the breeze.

The silence finally becomes too much, and I lean down to flick on the ancient iPod I have connected to the truck’s stereo. Juliet nearly jumps out of her skin as Michael Jackson’s Black or White comes on over the speakers at a volume neither of us expected. I quickly turn it down, and Juliet begins to giggle.

“Oh my god you havemusic?” She picks up the neon green iPod and turns it over in her hand. “I haven’t seen one of these since I was a kid.”

“Yeah, well it’s the one thing I managed to hold on to, and by some miracle it still works.” I chuckle as she continues to stare at it. “Back in the days before everyone had music on their phones.”

She lets out a breathless little laugh, and puts the iPod back on the dash. “Yeah, those were the days huh?” She flexes her toes on the seat, then stretches her legs out in front of her. “This is an old song right?”

I lift a finger in her direction. “Ey, ey, watch yourself now.”

I can sense the sass rolling off her as I catch sight of her grin.

“Myparentsused to listen to this music,” she drawls softly.

I slam a hand to my chest and let out a strangled groan. “Brutal. Straight through the fucking heart, Monroe, Jesus.”

She gasps, and my head snaps to look at her.

“You alright?”

She nods slowly. “You know my last name?”

Shit. Way to let her know you’ve been a creep and looked up her file.

I look back at the road. “Uh yeah. I looked you up. I was curious. Sorry.”

“What does my file say?”

“It says your birthday is March 13. Born 1999.” I smile over at her. She’s still regarding me with that somewhat distrustful, incredulous look. “You were picked up from UGA and brought to the facility here. You were 19 years old at the time, in good health.”

“They say that?” She scoffs. “I was in good health?”

“Yeah. The vamps are all about health.”

“Yeah.” Her entire mood has shifted. She curls up on the seat silently, and winds the window up. She stares out at the changing landscape, decaying buildings springing up either side of us as we approach Savannah.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

She waves a hand, not looking at me. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Well, it does.”

“It’s just a name, Silas.”

No, it isn’t.The protest dies on my tongue as she refuses to turn back around.

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