Page 105 of Wicked Nightmare

The downside was obvious. No time alone. My cock had been aching for days with the need to be inside Lakey and every night we'd climb into bed and she'd press against me and I could feel every inch of her body through whatever she was wearing and it was driving me out of my fucking mind. I'd palm her hip and she'd push back into me and then Rose would shift on her mattress or make a sound in her sleep and we'd both freeze, and I swear to God if this went on much longer I was going to lose it.

"Oh, babe?" Lakey's voice was quiet. "I think we should go shop for Rose. She probably would like some clothes that aren't mine."

I thought about it. About the fact that Rose had been wearing Lakey's stuff for almost two weeks, that Lakey's leggings were too short on her, that she kept pulling at the waistband because Lakey's hips were narrower than hers. Small shit. The kind of shit I wouldn't have noticed a month ago. The kind of shit I noticed now because apparently I was turning into someone who paid attention to whether a girl had clothes that fit.

"Yeah. That's a good call."

"You'd be a good dad, Cam. Always filling in the spots that I miss."

Pain seized in my chest. Not the twinge, because she'd said dad and not parent and the word sat between us heavy and loaded and we both knew she wasn't talking about Rose.

"And vice versa, baby doll."

As we climbed into bed, Lakey's hand found mine under the covers. We lay there in the dark, not speaking, her fingers laced through mine. She was trembling, just barely. Not cold. Not scared. Just wound so tight that her body couldn't hold it all in. She was thinking about the same things I was. Rose. The car outside. The burning. Lillianna. The fact that we were supposed to be killers, supposed to be monsters, and here we were lying in bed worried about buying someone clothes and whether or not there was a bomb in a girl's head.

"Cam?" Her whisper came through the dark.

"Yeah, babe?"

"We're in deep shit, aren't we?"

I laughed. "When aren't we?"

She shifted closer, her head on my chest. Her heartbeat was fast and steady against my ribs. It grounded me the way it always did. Reminded me why we did all this crazy shit. Why we killed. Why we ran. Why we kept going when any sane person would've put a bullet in their own head years ago.

"Whatever comes," I said, "we face it together. You, me, and the kid."

Her grip tightened on my hand. It wasn't often my girl needed me to be her backbone, but tonight was one of the few. And I'd hold her up for as long as she needed. I'd cradle her heart in my hands until she was ready to take it back and lock it into the cage she'd built around it. I didn't say anything else. Just kissed the top of her head and listened to her breathing slow down, her body going heavy against mine, her fingers finally loosening their grip.

I didn't sleep.

I lay there in the dark, listening to Rose twitch and murmur on her mattress, listening to Lakey breathe, and I ran the numbers. The car outside. The burning. The dreams that weren't dreams. The fact that Rose picked up hotwiring a car in fifteen tries when it had taken me thirty and Lakey forty. The fact that Chimera didn't let people go. They didn't escape. They were released. And if Rose had been released, that meant she was still serving a purpose.

I just didn't know what it was yet.

After Lakey was asleep, I slipped out of bed, careful not to jostle her, careful to step over Rose's mattress. Walked barefoot to the window, pressed my back to the wall, angled my head to see through the gap.

There it was. That car. Same spot. Patient. Waiting.

My lips pulled back.

Whoever was watching us had no idea what they were in for.

Game on, fuckers.

Chapter Thirty-Two: Lakey

The shattering glass jolted me awake, my heart hammering before my brain caught up. Cam was already on his feet, his massive frame cutting through the dark. He reached for the nightstand, the metallic click of his gun loud in the quiet.

"Stay here, baby," he whispered, motioning with his hand.

Like hell I will.

I grabbed my knives, one in each hand, the handles cold from sitting next to the bed all night. As soon as Cam slipped out the door, I was right behind him, barefoot and silent. The excitement bubbling in my chest was immediate. Automatic. Someone had broken into our apartment, and my first thought wasn't fear.

It was finally.

We'd been cooped up for weeks. Playing house. Playing nice. Playing at being people who didn't need the violence to feel whole. And now someone had come to our door uninvited, and every cell in my body was awake for the first time since the amusement park.