Page 102 of Wicked Nightmare

I strode back inside. Rose was sprawled on the floor, breathing hard, Lakey standing over her grinning like a cat that got the canary.

"Having fun, ladies?" I leaned against the doorframe.

Lakey's head turned at my voice. "Just teaching our little Rose some valuable life skills. Like how never to let me get the upper hand."

I snorted, watching Rose pick herself up. She was favoring her left side, probably took a hit to the ribs, but she wasn't complaining. "She has been improving. How about we teach her something else while we're at it? Like, I don't know, hotwiring a car?"

Lakey's grin went wide. "Oh, Cam. What a positively wicked idea. I love it."

Rose looked between us. I caught the hesitation, the way her hands tightened at her sides, the quick calculation behind her eyes. She was weighing it. Good. That meant she was thinking before she jumped, which was more than I could say for Lakey on her best day.

"What do you say, Rosie?" I raised an eyebrow. "Ready for your first lesson in grand theft auto?"

She hesitated another beat. Then she straightened her shoulders and gave us a shaky smile. "I'm in."

"That's the spirit," Lakes said, cocking her head. "But first, we eat."

She disappeared into the kitchen and came back a few moments later with grilled cheese piled high on a plate, set it on the table, grabbed a couple bowls and went back for one more. "Rose made us grilled cheese and fancy tomato soup." She had a proud look on her face as we all sat down, this expression I'd never seen her wear before Rose showed up. Maternal wasn't the right word. Lakey would gut me if I called her maternal. But it was something close. Something in the neighborhood. "Remember when we used to steal this stuff all the time, Cam? From that diner down the way? Shit, feels like so long ago."

I nodded, pulling out a chair. The smell of warm bread and melted cheese hit me and my stomach made its opinion known. I sat across from her and grabbed a sandwich, thinking about that diner. The guy behind the counter who never once looked at us twice. We'd been kids, practically. Younger than Rose. Stealing grilled cheese because it was the only hot food we could get our hands on and Lakey had a thing about eating cold food. Said it reminded her of the homes. I never pushed on why.

We ate in comfortable silence, lost in our own heads, until Rose broke it.

"Have either of you ever tried to escape from here?"

It was an innocent question. Something about it made my jaw tighten anyway. Maybe because the answer was complicated. Maybe because "here" meant more than the city.

Lakey laughed softly. "We tried once but found ourselves right back here. Seems like there's a reason we were never able to leave. Running away only brings more trouble than it's worth." She glanced at me before adding under her breath, "Unless you're running towards someone worth dying for."

I said nothing, took another bite, and chewed slow.

"So..." Rose began, hesitant, her spoon hovering over her soup. "These dreams... they're getting weird lately." She trailed off, frowning at the table. "They feel real sometimes. Like flashbacks almost. Except they're not really memories."

She glanced between us, nervous, then landed on Lakey. "And sometimes there's this burning sensation at the back of my neck. Like... I don't know how to explain it." She shrugged, took another sip. "I dunno, maybe it's just paranoia or PTSD rearing its ugly head."

Lakey and I locked eyes over Rose's head. Quick. Pointed. The kind of look that said we'd be talking about this later, privately, without Rose in the room.

I reached for my grilled cheese, took a big bite, swallowed. Kept my voice flat. Neutral. "It's probably just that. Trauma can do strange things to the mind, you know?"

Lakey nodded. "You're just adjusting to everything that's happened, that's all. Give it time, you'll be fine." Her voice was steady, gentle. Her eyes never left mine.

I stood, pushing my chair back hard enough that it scraped against the floor. Rose jumped. I pretended not to notice. Dreams were one thing. Burning was another. Burning at the back of the neck, right where the brainstem met the spine, right where someone who wanted to implant something would go if they wanted it close to the central nervous system. I'd read about that shit. I'd heard stories from people who'd been inside Chimera's facilities, the few who got out, and none of those stories ended with "and then I was fine."

Trauma could manifest in dreams. Sure. But it could also be something they put inside her. Something timed. Something activated. And Lakey hadn't even thought to mention the dreams to me, which meant she'd been sitting on this, probably telling herself it was nothing, probably not wanting to rock our little domestic boat.

How the fuck am I supposed to protect the two people I care about when I don't even know what's happening inside their heads?

"Right, well. I think it's about time we get started on those lessons. Lakes, let's go grab the kit. Rose, if you'd be so kind as to clear the table, we can have the rest for leftovers."

"Cam?" Rose said, confusion clear in her voice as she watched Lakey stand and follow me down the hall.

I waited until we were out of earshot, our bedroom door shut behind us. Then I turned on Lakey.

"What the hell is going on?" I kept my voice low, but I could hear the edge in it. "Why didn't you tell me those dreams were still happening?"

"The fuck, Cam." She crossed her arms, chin up, ready for a fight. "I didn't know. What the fuck do you want from me? How am I supposed to mind read? You've been so hot and cold about her, I didn't think you'd wanna know about some petty-ass dreams she's having." She gave me a hard look. "Besides, what does it matter? They're just dreams."

"They might not be, that's the thing. They could be shit she's gone through. But I'm more concerned that her head is burning. I know there are certain compounds that could cause that. Lakey, it could be dangerous."