Page 139 of Anathema Codex

"You're right," I admit in a hollow whisper.

"Well, shit. Look at that. Youdoknow how to be a good bitch still." Releasing my throat and shoving me forward with his grip on my hair, Lakyn forces me to clamber into the bathtub. "Now clean yourself up because I've let you mope around this house for long enough, and I need some fucking stress relief."

The cold shock of the water rips a gasp from my throat as I cower at the far edge of the bathtub, avoiding the spray from the shower head until it warms, but turning around was just another mistake, because Lakyn is leaning against the wall grinning at me like the devil himself, just like that first day we met at Bea's front door.

And I can't help but wonder if my arrival that day didn't somehow doom her, just like my existence has always been a curse for the people around me. The only person that seems immune to it is Lakyn Meyer.

The universe bends to his will, reshapes itself to meet his desires... which proves just how fucking useless it is to fight him.

If life is some kind of game, he's always been a player, and I've never been anything more than a game piece. A pawn. Something to be maneuvered when it's useful, and sacrificed as needed. When the water finally warms and I close my eyes, relaxing into the heat and the brief moment of comfort it provides, I can't help but wonder when my time will come with Lakyn.

Someday I won't entertain him anymore, and I'll end up just like Bea.

Just like Aftyn.

Just like the girl that boy brought to our living room.

Just like every other person who has ever stood between Lakyn Meyer and what he wants next.

There will be a day when it's my turn to die at his hand, and whether that's today or tomorrow or another twenty years away, I can only hope Bea will be waiting for me so I can tell her I'm sorry for ever meeting her in the first place.

It’s the least I can do.

SEVEN

How the Mind Breaks

LAKYN

It’s almost like he’s purposely trying to find out how far he can push me before I snap and scrub his skinny ass for him.

“Today would be nice,” I snarl as I move from the spot by the wall and reach into the shower to flip the flow of water to the tub. Shoving the shower curtain back so he can’t hide, I lower the toilet seat, sit down, lean forward, and drape my arms over my knees. My eyes are steady, my breath is even, and I know that he can see Hell where dark, ocean blue once stood.

Ichabod nudges the drain with his foot until it seals the bottom of the tub and reaches for the bar of soap with a shaking hand. I can tell he’s keeping an eye on me as he sits down and turns his head slightly enough that he thinks I don’t see another tear roll down his cheek.

Fucking pathetic. When the hell did this happen?I wonder with an eye roll.

“Because I’m in such a good mood today,” I state as I sit back and get comfortable. “I’m not going to help you. I’ll let you clean up your bits and baubles yourself, but…” Ichabod glances over at me with those puppy dog eyes of his, dark with rage, and waits. “If you don’t do a good job. I’ll have to fix it.”

He gives me a solemn nod as the bar of soap disappears below the rising surface of the water and I let out a sigh.

Impatience isn’t a virtue right now because if he gets out of that bathtub still smelling like day-old balls, I’m gonna be pissed.

I watch as his hands move beneath the water so I’m assuming that he’s taking special care not to get any of that film he’s been growing on my dick later.

Which is nice, I suppose.

He’s already thinking about the future while I’m still stuck in the present inhaling and exhaling his stench.

When the Hell did I decide to keep him?

The question takes a stroll through my brain as I watch him soap up a shoulder.Oh yeah. The Sun Fuckers and their precious little idol.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” I question thoughtfully.

Ichabod nods and I grind my teeth together. He’s still pissy because I slapped him around a little bit, but he should be used to that by now.

“Hey,” I bark at him a little louder.

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