Anathema Codex by Yolanda Olson & Jennifer Bene

Author:Yolanda Olson & Jennifer Bene [Olson, Yolanda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781946722942
Published: 2022-09-18T16:00:00+00:00

TWELVE

Ghost of Bitchmas Past

LAKYN

Now that I’ve finally got some direction on where Trixie has been hiding her rotten gash for the past twenty or so odd years, I’m in a much better mood.

The kid still seems to be sucking on sour grapes, and had he not been mine, I would have given him something better to suck on, but c'est la vie.

I clear my throat as I tune out the two in the back of the truck. Granted, one of them is poking at the other, literally and figuratively speaking, though I can totally get the fun in that. Once I’ve got a chick all nice and tied up, I tend to fuck with them for a little while before the grand finale.

Glancing into the rearview, I chuckle and shake my head as Red pushes the new head emo girl’s gag further into her mouth.

“Careful not to choke her on that. Trixie doesn’t like to play with dead things.”

For the most part anyway, I muse to myself as thoughts of her fucking Basil’s corpse come flooding back.

I shift in the seat as a way to keep my dick from getting hard from the memory, then begin to chew the inside of my mouth thoughtfully. The best thing to do is probably listen to some tunes right now since it’ll help drown them out even more, and it might even perk the kid up.

Leaning over, I press the power button and then the scan button to let the radio search for something. I have no idea what the fuck channels she had these set to, but I’m sure I’ll find something good at some point.

Bingo.

A grin that spreads over half my face takes over as I raise the volume. I begin to tap my fingers along the steering wheel as the temp picks up.

“Stars live in the evening…”

The kid immediately reaches over to shut the radio off, and I slap his hand away.

“Tsk, tsk,” I say to him as I raise a finger. “Daddy’s listening to his favorite song.”

When he scowls, I smirk and go back to humming along. Pretty Baby is something that I’ve loved for years before I met Trixie, but when I met that little demon spawn, the song took on more meaning.

Raking a hand back through my hair, I begin to bop my head along to the beat as I reach into the visor for another smoke. I’d offer him one, but since he’s being a little shit, he’ll have to learn to survive off the fumes for a while.

When the song ends, I let out a dramatic sigh. There’s not a goddamn thing that can compare to that song. The noble thing to do would be to let the kid pick the next song, but…

“You like Springsteen?” I ask as Born in the USA comes on. He doesn’t look at me, doesn’t shake his head or nod; hell, he doesn’t even blink, so I shrug and raise the volume another notch.

Maybe he’s finally understanding that I know what good music is and he’s accepting it.

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