Page 137 of Anathema Codex

Curiosity tempts me to lift my arm from my eyes, and I turn my head toward the door expecting to find Lakyn leaning against the frame in all his terrible glory... but it's empty. When I sit up, I can see he's not in the hallway either, and I don't know what lures me forward, but with Led Zeppelin playing I can't resist creeping off the bed and into the hall.

The bed springs creak under me, but I do everything I can to be silent, using every trick I've learned in the years I've spent in this nightmare house to make my movements quiet, because all I want is to see if Lakyn is still here, or if he's left on a run for cigarettes... or another killing spree. Either are equally possible.

Lingering at the last bit of the hallway that's hidden from the other part of the house, I swallow hard, trying to work up the courage to step out and look for him, but just as I take a step, the creak of his chair locks every muscle in my body.

Fuck. He's still here.

I recoil from the scent of cigarette smoke that hovers in the air, another confirmation he's still home, and even though I'm sure I hear another hint of bird song I move backward.

Everything about this feels like a trap.

Lakyn Meyer is never patient. He doesn't wait unless it serves a purpose, which means something about this is benefiting him or entertaining him—and I don't want to entertain him. I don't want to be his puppet, dancing to every pull of my strings, but I'm not sure how to avoid it when I can never predict what the fuck he wants.

Clenching my jaw, I stomp back to the bedroom and throw myself on the bed, making sure my movements echo through the house and the squeaking of the bedsprings are more than loud enough to be heard over his stupid radio.

If this is a trap, I'm not walking into it. He can come to me if he wants to hurt me some more.

FIVE

Pretty When He Cries

LAKYN

I snuff out my smoke in the ashtray then get to my feet. I’m impressed that he didn’t fall for my little ruse, but Ichabod has never been able to run from me.

Hell, anytime he’s tried, he’s come crawling back to my ever loving arms.Well, there were a few times I dragged him back kicking and screaming,I think with a smirk as I stretch my arms over my head, then head down the hallway.

I push the bedroom door open to find him curled up on the bed again.

“You know,” I begin conversationally as I rest my back against the doorframe and cross my arms, “the least you can do is try to make this a little interesting. This wholefetusthing is getting old.”

Ichabod grunts and pulls his skinny little legs closer to his chest. I roll my eyes. “This is starting to get boring. You remember what happens when I get bored?”

“Same thing as always,” he grumbles as he turns onto his back and slams his fists into the mattress.

“Not when you smell like dirty balls,” I snap back with a smirk. “I think it’s time for a shower.”

“No,” he mumbles as he turns back on his side. I watch his spine peek through his back and arch an eyebrow.

If he’s attempting to fool me into thinking he has a backbone just because he’s a waify little shit, he’s clearly forgotten whose roof he’s been under for the past twenty years.Nothing like a good ol’ fashion refresher to make his dick hard.

“Sure! I’d love to help!” I announce cheerfully as I walk around the bed and grab him by one of his arms. Giving Ichabod a violent yank, then chuckling when his body hits the floor with a dullthud¸I give him a smirk before I drag him out of the room.

He kicks and screams about it.

Like an actual fucking child having a tantrum.

It’s astounding to me that he didn’t learn his lesson after what happened to my waste of sperm.

Do I want to get rid of him?I wonder as he hooks his feet against either side of the door frame in a pathetic attempt to keep from being dragged to the shower.

I run a hand back through my hair.

I’ve had more than enough chances to get rid of him, and honestly, his prissy mood over Trixie is starting to grate on my nerves.

I lean forward and kick one of his shins, forcing his legs to recoil in pain, then continue dragging him toward the bathroom.

A sob shakes his entire body and I roll my eyes. I don’t know when he became such a cry baby, but it can’t possibly have anything to do with me.

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