Page 40 of Anathema Codex

I don't do it right away. I keep my gaze defiantly focused on the steering wheel, but eventually he starts tightening his hold, hard enough to leave bruises, and I lift my eyes to glare at him. I know he sees the rage I've still got burning like a forest fire under the surface. He saw it explode. Letting that rage out is exhausting though, and I still don't know why I turned it on that random couple instead of him. He betrayed me. He lied to me. He took my friend from me. And even when I was holding a goddamn knife... I didn't go for him.

I just cried.Pathetic.

The only reason I'm not shoving my fucking thumbs into his eye sockets right now is because my arms are jelly. I spent all my energy bashing that bitch's head on a rock and stabbing her boytoy a million times. But even when Aftyn smirks, I know he's thinking about me killing them. I'm sure he thinks he can take me, but this rage isn't going anywhere, I just need time to refresh my energy stores before I get some revenge.

"Going to behave while I drive?" he asks, tilting his head, that cocky smirk stretching a little. "I could always try out some bondage if you're still feeling feisty."

I don't respond, I just drop my eyes and yank my arm out of his grasp. Aftyn laughs under his breath and snags the keys, cranking the car as I curl up against the door again. As soon as we've got power, I roll up my window while he rolls his down. The flick of a lighter grates on my nerves further, but he's smoked so many cigarettes in my fucking car at this point that it just doesn't matter anymore. He'll pay for the detail whenever we get home.Ifwe both get back home.

At this point I'm not sure if anyone in the car is going to make it out of this alive, because there's still a chance I'll turn my rage on Daphne before I take it out on Aftyn. It's my goddamn pity for him rearing its head again, but he doesn't deserve it anymore. Not after this. I just have to figure out how to stop caring about him.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Aftyn is back to whistling between drags on his cigarette as we speed down the highway at least fifteen miles over the speed limit. If I were speaking to him right now, I'd tell him to slow the fuck down, because if he gets a ticketIwill be the one that ends up having to pay it.

But it's not worth breaking the silent treatment I've got going with him right now.

He's tried to bait me into conversation a few different times, and he's even talked to Daphne about me just trying to get me to speak—but I'm not going to give him the satisfaction. If I have to feel this miserable, I want everyone in the car to feel it too.

And I am miserable. Heartbroken. Devastated.

I should have known better than to try and get Aftyn to look twice at Dex. If this is anyone's fault... it's mine. I just wanted to make Dex happy, to see him happy for one fucking day of his life, and Aftyn could have given him that so easily. It wouldn't have taken much. I'm not talking about making out with Dex, or letting him blow him, but just being slightly less of an asshole would have been enough. Instead, he complained every time Dexter hung out with us. Loudly. He mocked him right to his face, and Dex is—was—sensitive. He was never like me or Aftyn, he couldn't fight back verbally or physically, and without the ability to be an utter asshole... he never stood a chance against Aftyn.

And Aftyn knew it.

He saw every weakness in Dexter and exploited them. Taunted him with them, teased him with the possibility of affection only to laugh in his face, when he reacted with the slightest bit of hope. I never really found out what led Dexter to the rough life he led, or why he never had enough money for food or decent clothes. I never wanted to press him, because I wanted him to let me help him. I wanted him to feel like someone on the planet gave a shit about him.

Instead, I served him up on a silver platter to Aftyn.

I let him walk away from me, away from my ability to protect him, even though I had that sick feeling in my stomach as I watched them walk toward the bathrooms together. My last act in Dexter's life wasnotacting. Not speaking up, not standing up to Aftyn, not doing anything at all. And he died in a fucking bathroom stall.

The urge to cry again makes me bite down on my tongue, and I almost bite right through it when I hear Daphne speak up from the backseat.

"Are you guys hungry?"

I'm tempted to tell her to shut the fuck up, but Aftyn's heavy sigh keeps me quiet. He glances up at the rearview mirror, his expression flat as he responds to her in a bored tone. "You're still here?"

"Um, yes?" she replies in her stupid soft voice, which I'm pretty fucking confident isn't her real voice. Everything about this girl is fake, and all I can hope is that Aftyn has finally seen through her shit as he rolls his eyes.

"Well, I'm not stopping. We're making good time right now."

"Okay." Daphne doesn't say anything else, and even though I'm still pissed at him, I feel a smile tugging at my lips. Turning farther toward the window, I hide it, because I don't want him to know that his bullshit is still able to entertain me.

Maybe if I wait long enough Aftyn will finally finish toying with her and he'll take her out for me. I'd like to see that, especially since it's so obvious she wants his dick.Everyonewants Aftyn, but despite the occasional drunken make-out session, I've refused to cross that line with him. If he fucks her, I don't know how I'll feel about it. I definitely don't want to watch that part, but I'd like to see him kill her. To watch her hope die in the same way that I'm sure Dexter's did. It's only fair since she took his space in the backseat that she should suffer like he did—worsethan he did.

Not that I plan on asking Aftyn the details of what he did to Dex.

As the car falls silent again, the subtle rumble of the road calms me and before I know it the exhaustion is creeping in and I'm asleep.

* * *

"One way or another I'm gonna find ya, I'm gonna get ya get ya get ya get ya!" The radio blares to life and I jerk awake, glaring at Aftyn as he quickly flips through the stations, trying to find something to listen to, but he hasn't turned the volume down at all.

Groaning, I sit up straight, working out the ache in my neck from sleeping hunched against the door. There's absolutely fucking nothing out the window. Just open plains, and I don't understand why anyone would choose to live in this part of the country. It's just... ugly. Flat and brown. When there are so many pretty places in the US, it seems stupid to live here. Wherever the fuck we are.

Aftyn settles on some station playing random songs from the 90s and 2000s, and I reach over to turn down the volume but he slaps my hand. "Driver picks the music, Wills. Hands off."

"Then pull the fuck over and I'll drive."

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