13. Thirteen Cam
Thirteen: Cam
T he moment we stepped out of that hellhole, Lakey's fingers intertwined with mine, her grip tighter than usual. I glanced down at her, taking in the way her long blonde hair caught the fading sunlight, almost masking the haunted look in those beautiful eyes of hers.
"You okay there, sweet cheeks?" I asked, squeezing her hand twice.
Lakey's lips curved into that smirk of hers. "I’m great. If we find where they’ve gone, I can bury my blade into their cunts. There’s nothing like revisiting childhood trauma to get the blood pumping and the torture ideas flowin’."
I chuckled, dark amusement coursing through me. "That's my girl."
We stood in the overgrown yard, the decrepit building behind us, the stench of death still in my nostrils like a rotting corpse. My eyes scanned the area, searching for any sign of a basement entrance. No cellar attached to the building…
"Well, isn't this charming," I drawled, gesturing to the wild tangle of weeds and debris. "I can see why you loved it here so much."
Lakey's grip on my hand tightened, her nails digging into my skin. "Oh yeah, it was a real five-star experience. The nightly beatings were my favorite part. The screams of the other girls helped me get off, what can I say?"
I felt a surge of protective rage at her sarcasm, but I swallowed it down. Now wasn't the time for vengeance – that would come later. This was recon. My gaze landed on a dilapidated shed tucked away in the corner of the yard, its wooden structure barely clinging to life. It was well hidden amongst overgrown bushes and a couple of dead trees.
"Bingo," I murmured, nodding towards it. "Wanna bet that's our ticket downstairs?"
Lakey's eyes lit up with excitement and she bounced on her toes. "Lets fucking gooooo."
As we approached the shed, I couldn't help but marvel at the woman beside me. Most people would be running for the hills, but not my Lakey. She was as fucked up as I was, and I loved her for it. Bet most of the girls who were in here went on to live lives that consisted of daily therapy visits and opioids, hiding under the guise of some white picket fence mirage, but not her. No. My girl had a hankering for blood, and she was unstoppable once she caught the scent.
A sliver of pride clutched my heart. I made this happen for her. I unleashed the beast she hadn’t even known was lurking in her soul. And she would take it the rest of the way, cutting down everyone who ever thought they could fucking step on her and get away with it. God, I half hoped she’d cut the skin from their faces, and we can weave original masks. The old ones were great, but lately we’ve been so damn rushed, we can’t even be theatrical with it.
Maybe if we find Father Christopher, we can make it a whole puppet show. My face twisted in a grin. Yeah… we were going to destroy these fucks and restore balance. I only hoped all these unwilling sacrifices would feed her inner psycho and not destroy it once her mission was through. I rather enjoyed the way her shadows danced with mine.
I pushed open the creaking door, wincing at the ear-splitting screech of rusted hinges. The interior was dim and cluttered, filled with abandoned tools and forgotten nightmares. To the left was a rusted pair of pliers and a tooth. Now that was something that disgusted me. Something about someone else’s teeth was so fucking repugnant, it made me recoil. My vision slowly adjusted to the gloom, landing on a skull perched atop a rickety table.
"Well, hello there," I quipped. "Looks like someone forgot to clean up after their last tea party."
Lakey let out a soft laugh, running her hand over the skull. "Wonder if its real." She picked it up, kissing it gently on the cheek. “Think we can nab this on the way out? Would look fucking amazing as a planter.”
I turned to her, cupping her face in my hands, running my thumb over her cheeks. "Most indubititibly.”
“That’s not how you say that word.” Her eyes rolled back in her head, but she smiled all the same.
“Whatever, you knew what I meant, so I did just fine.”
She laughed, swatting at my arms before looking around the shed. “It’s gnarly in here. Look at the rake. Hella rusted. Probably old blood. Fuck, imagine being run through by a rusty rake? Fucking wild. I’m definitely taking the skull. Remind me when we come up.”
Throwing my hands up, I chuckled, “Whatever you wish for is yours, baby girl. Take it if you want it. With any luck its one of the sister wives.”
“Nuns, babe. They were nuns.”
“Same thing. They all worshipped at the cock of the Father.”
She opened a rickety drawer, causing the rotten structure to fall apart, “Can’t argue with you there. I heard their moans many nights and the only thing I could think was ‘thank fuck it’s not one of us’. Pretty sure Sister Anne was fucking one of the other sisters. Whenever I had to make dinner, the spatula was always covered in that weird fucking crusty cum shit.”
“I mean… if you wanted to fuck a girl, I wouldn’t care. I’d wanna watch though.”
“Yeah right. Ain’t no one touching me, but you. You can fuck all the hoes in this skanky little town, but revenge is mine and it’s as sweet as sin. As for me and my pussy, it belongs to you.”
“You should tattoo that on you. Property of Cameron.” She rolled her eyes, and I continued before she could cut in, “C’mon, it’d be kinda hot.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Lakey smiled, “get your ass going, look for the stairs.”
I scanned the shed's floor, my eyes catching on a section that seemed slightly off-kilter. Wooden boards, just a hair higher than the rest. Fuckin’ rights.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" I mused, kneeling down to get a better look. "Looks like someone's idea of a secret clubhouse. I wonder what they called it. Sir Christopher and the Sisters: no one else allowed."
Lakey peered over my shoulder, her breath warm against my ear. "Or a portal to the Underworld. Wouldn't that be fun? I’d love to fuck with a demon."
I chuckled, running my fingers along the edges of the raised boards. "Only you would find damnation entertaining, sweetheart. Besides, you are a demon, don’t know why you’d need to meet one when there’s one that lives inside you."
Her face lit up, “You really think so, babe?”
“Yeah, Lakes. You’re the most fucked up person I’ve ever met.”
“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” She brushed away an imaginary tear. “Thank you, baby. K, enough fucking around, get those boards up.”
With a grunt, I pried up the boards, revealing a hidden trapdoor. The musty scent of decay wafted up, making my nostrils flare. But underneath that, there was something else. Something that made my pulse quicken with anticipation.
"Ladies first?" I offered, gesturing to the dark void below.
Lakey rolled her eyes. "Such a gentleman. I think I'll let you take the lead on this one, big guy."
I shrugged, flashing her my most charming grin. "Can't blame a guy for trying."
As I descended the narrow staircase, the temperature dropped noticeably. Each step creaked ominously, the sound echoing off damp walls. I could hear Lakey's soft footfalls behind me, her presence easing some of that fucking eerie feeling that settled over me with each step downward. How the hell had she survived this place? This is fucked.
"You okay back there?" I called over my shoulder, my voice unnaturally loud in the oppressive silence.
"Peachy keen, doll," came her sarcastic reply. "Just reminiscing about all the good times I probably had in this little slice of paradise. Don’t remember them… yet. But can’t wait ‘til I do. Maybe I can add these stories to that children’s book I’m writing."
“God, you’re so disturbing.”
“I take pride in that.”
My chest tightened at her words. Sometimes I forgot just how much she'd endured while we were apart. Guilt sat heavy in my chest as I tried to lock it away. We both suffered in our separation, but I’d never regret protecting her. Not a fucking chance. The urge to turn around and crush her to my chest was almost overwhelming. Instead, I pushed on, determined to help her face whatever demons lurked in the shadows of her past.
"I’m here for you, Lakes," I said softly, pausing to look back at her. "Whatever's down here, we'll handle it. Just like we always do."
For a moment, her carefully constructed mask slipped, revealing a vulnerability that made my heart ache. Then it was gone, replaced by that familiar wicked gleam in her eye.
"My hero," she drawled, but I could hear the genuine affection beneath the snark. "Now let's go find some bodies to desecrate, shall we?"
I laughed, the sound echoing off the tunnel walls. God, I love this woman . Fucked up as we both were, there was no one else I'd rather have by my side as we sat in the cage of our pain.
"At your command, lil’ psycho," I replied, standing in a mock salute before leading us deeper into the darkness.
As we navigated the damp, winding tunnels, my instincts kicked into overdrive. Someone could be down here, and I needed to be ready to defend my girl.
"You know," I said, "I always dreamed of taking you on a romantic underground stroll. Though I imagined fewer rats and more champagne."
Lakey snorted, her fingers brushing against mine as we navigated the corridor. "Oh, Cam," she purred, "you always know how to make a girl feel special. Maybe once we’re done, we can find some sacrilegious spot and you can bury your cock in me."
I grinned, though the expression felt more like a grimace. My dick would fall off if I whipped it out here. It was dank as fuck. My mind raced, piecing together the layout of this underground maze. The corridor split into 3, one main and two side shoots. There had to be a central hub, a place where the worst of the atrocities took place.
"Left here," I muttered, guiding us down the largest tunnel. The air grew thicker, heavier with each step. My skin crawled with anticipation and a sick sort of excitement. Whatever we found at the end of this path, it would be the key to unraveling the mysteries of Lakey's time here.
Suddenly, we came to an abrupt halt. Before us was a massive metal door, its surface pitted and scarred by time and neglect. The lock, once formidable, now hung in a rusted, fragile state.
"Looks like we found the VIP room," I quipped, eyeing the door with a mixture of curiosity and disgust. Without hesitation, I stepped forward, my foot connecting with the door in a swift, powerful kick.
The lock gave way with a sickening crunch, the door swinging open to reveal... Christ. The stench hit me first. Death. Rot. Mold. As we stepped inside, the full horror of the room became apparent.
"Well, fuck me sideways," I breathed, taking in the nightmarish scene before us. "Looks like we stumbled into Satan's rec room."
Lakey's sharp intake of breath beside me was the only indication of her distress. I wanted nothing more than to shield her from this, to whisk her away from the memories that surely came flooding back. But I knew better. This was her fight, and all I could do was stand by her side. And crack some fucking skulls when it came down to it.
"You okay, babe?" I asked softly, my gaze never leaving the grotesque array of instruments and jars that lined the walls.
"Never better," she replied, her voice tight with barely contained fury. "Let's tear this fucking place apart."
We turned to survey the room in its entirety. On one wall hung rusted chains, another had shelves, filled with jars of weird liquid. A sink was in the corner, brown slosh in the bowl and splashed over onto the floor. The color theme in here seemed to be hospital white, mixed with dark brown accents. It looked like a horrible fucking tie die job if you asked me.
“Fuck me, I think that’s skin tissue.”
I turned to gauge Lakey's reaction, but her face had gone pale, her eyes wide with a terror I'd never seen before. She swayed on her feet, her usual fierce demeanor.
"Baby? Babe?" I reached out, concern etching itself across my face.
She didn't respond, her gaze fixed on some unseen horror. In that moment, I saw her not as the badass I'd fallen for, but as the broken girl who'd endured unspeakable horrors in this very room.
"Shit," I muttered, moving quickly. Her knees buckled, and I caught her, wrapping my arms around her trembling form. "I've got you, baby. I've got you."
As if my touch had broken a dam, Lakey let out a scream that chilled me to my core. It wasn't her usual playful shriek or even her angry yell. This was raw, primal - a sound of pure agony and rage that echoed in the room. If we weren’t deep underground, I’d swear it could be heard from outside.
I held her tighter, my mind racing. How the fuck do you comfort someone reliving their worst nightmares? I wasn’t exactly the fucking poster boy for emotional support, but for Lakey, I'd try to be a goddamn teddy bear if that's what she needed.
"Listen to me," I said, soothing my voice so it was quiet. "We're gonna burn this place to the ground, you hear me? We'll make them pay. Every last one of them."
Her screams subsided into choked sobs, her fingers digging into my arms hard enough to draw blood. I didn't flinch. Physical pain was nothing compared to watching the love of my fucked-up life fall apart in my arms.
I realized with a start that in all my years of knowing her, I’d never seen her cry. Her anguish reached deep into my chest and ripped out what remained of my heart. All of me. All of me belonged to her. I’d give her everything if only to stop those heavy sobs that escaped her.
Suddenly, she wrenched herself from my grasp, her blue eyes wild and unfocused. She stumbled forward, her gaze darting around the room like a cornered animal.
"Woah, easy there, killer," I said, forcing a lightness into my tone I didn't feel. "What's the rush? We've got all night to play in this little house of horrors."
She didn't respond, moving with frantic energy towards a rusted metal table. Her fingers traced the outline of what looked like some kind of electrical device, and my stomach turned. Jesus Christ, what had they done to her here?
I hung back, watching as she moved from one grotesque instrument to another. My gut was in knots as I fought back the urge to stop her. This felt like a fucking mistake. Sure, she deserved to know, but fuck, if the look on her face wasn’t enough to send me to my knee’s… I straightened my spine and crossed my hands to stop myself from doing something stupid. She’d never know what happened if I intervened now.
"You know," I drawled, leaning against a grimy wall, "most girls would settle for a nice dinner and movie date. But you? You drag me to the creepiest basement this side of a Stephen King novel. I gotta say, I'm impressed. If you ask nice, I’ll fuck you on that nasty table." I didn’t want to, gangrene would probably set in, and I’d lose my cock, but if it helped…
Lakey's lips twitched, the barest hint of a smile. "Shut up, Cam," she muttered, but there was no heat in it. “To be fair… YOU dragged ME down here. You’re the one who found the stairs, so fuck you very much.”
I was about to fire back with another quip when she froze, her gaze locked on something behind me. I turned, following her line of sight, and my blood ran cold.
Shelves upon shelves of glass jars lined the far wall, each one labeled with a girl's name. The contents... Christ, I'd seen some fucked up shit in my time, but this? This was a whole new level of depravity. The weird goo jars had nothing on these. These looked like… body parts? Babies? Parts of people, that much was fucking clear.
"Well, fuck me sideways," I breathed, a sick need to enact justice curling in my gut. It was a foreign feeling. My urges didn’t usually extend to that level of righteous, but somehow this was far worse than anything I’d have even imagined someone could do. Which is fucking hilarious given the games we play. "Looks like we've hit the jackpot, baby. These sick fucks left us a whole treasure trove of evidence."
She didn't respond. Her face had gone eerily blank, but I could see the storm brewing behind those pretty blue eyes. Her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides, and I knew that look. She was about to explode, and it was going to be fucking glorious.
I grinned, dark anticipation coursing through my veins. "What do you say we start making a list of all the people we're gonna make pay for this?"
I watched as Lakey's carefully constructed facade crumbled, her rage erupting like a volcano. She let out a Goddamn roar that split my ears. Not a pained scream, no. This was anger, rage… fury. And then she was moving, her hands sweeping across the shelves, sending jars crashing to the floor.
The cacophony of shattering glass was music to my ears, but we couldn't afford to lose our heads. Not until we had all our ducks in a row.
"Whoa there, baby," I said, my voice low and steady as I approached her. "I know you want to destroy it all, but we've got work to do first."
Lakey whirled on me, her eyes wild. "Don't you dare try to stop me, Cam. These monsters—"
"—are gonna pay," I finished for her, gripping her shoulders. "But we need proof. Evidence. You want to make sure they suffer, right?"
She nodded, her breath coming in short gasps. I could feel her trembling under my hands, and fuck if it didn't make me want to pull her close and never let go.
"Then let's do this smart," I said, jerking my head towards a door in the corner. "Look. Office. Bet you anything those sick fucks kept records. Let’s take pictures and record everything we can. All these jars have names. We can find the girls and help them, somehow. I don’t know. Give them money or something."
I paused, looking at the shattered ones on the floor. Something slimy had fallen out and it looked a hell of a lot like an eyeball. “Well, not those girls, cuz I ain’t touching that shit to get to the label. But the rest.”
Lakey's eyes followed mine, and I saw the moment clarity returned. She took a deep breath, steadying herself.
"You're right," she rasped in exasperation. "God, I hate when you're right."
I smirked, unable to help myself. "That's why you keep me around, sweetheart. Now, ready to go dig up some dirt?"
She nodded, determination replacing the blind fury in her eyes. As we made our way to the office, I stared at my girl. She was so damn strong. Broken, dangerous, and utterly fucking perfect. Now, we unleash her on the world. Show them what she’s made of. What they made her into.
You know, lesser men would want to take the spotlight. To be the hero. But nah, I’m content riding sidekick to my beautiful angel. Besides, I had my own demons to catch, and I know she’d do the same for me.
I reached for the doorknob, half-expecting it to be locked, but it turned easily under my hand. The door creaked open, revealing a cramped space that reeked of sex and secrets.
"Jesus," I muttered, taking in the chaos. "Looks like a tornado hit a paper factory in here."
Lakey squeezed past me, her eyes scanning the room. "Or like someone tried to hide evidence in a hurry," she said, her voice low and dangerous. She moved towards a busted shredder in the corner, pointing to the half-shredded records sticking out haphazardly. “Hopefully that shit wasn’t important. More than enough left here to comb over, anyway.”
I watched her move, graceful as a panther, towards the cluttered desk. Even covered in dust and God-knows-what from the jars she'd smashed, she was fucking irresistible. My pants grew tight. Maybe I would have to fuck her in here after all, gangrene be damned.
"See anything good?" I asked, starting to rifle through a stack of files on a nearby shelf.
She didn't answer right away, her nimble fingers already sorting through the mess on the desk. I could practically see the wheels turning in that brilliant, twisted mind of hers.
"Cam," she said finally, her voice tight. "These... these are medical records."
I moved closer, peering over her shoulder. "What kind of medical records?"
"The kind that make me want to resurrect these bastards just so I can kill them again," she spat.
I felt a chill run down my spine, not from fear, but from the ice in her voice. This was Lakey at her most dangerous. The cold calculation. When she was angry, she was unpredictable, but when she was ready to cleanse the earth, she became someone else entirely. A being of perfect calm, someone who was laser focussed. Who could make a decision in a split second and know it was the right one.
"Show me," I said, my hand settling on the small of her back.
She passed me a file, her fingers brushing mine as she stared up at me. Even in this dank basement, that simple touch sent electricity through me. I opened the file and started reading, feeling my own anger rising with each word.
"Fuck," I breathed. "Lakey, this is—"
"I know," she cut me off abruptly. "Keep looking. There has to be more. I need to find Lydia… and me."
We fell into silence then, the only sound the rustle of paper as we dug deeper into the horrors documented so neatly in black and white. I kept sneaking glances at Lakey, watching the play of emotions across her face. Anger, disgust, pain – and underneath it all, a fierce determination that made my chest tighten.
This was why I loved her. Not despite the darkness inside her, but because of it. Because she could stare into the abyss and not only come out the other side but drag the monsters into the light to burn alongside her.
"Hey," I said softly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "We're gonna make this right."
She looked up at me, her blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears and barely contained rage. "Promise?"
I nodded, cupping her face in my hands. "Cross my black little heart, sweetheart. No one's ever gonna hurt you again without answering to me."
A ghost of a smile flickered across her face. "My big, bad wolf," she murmured, leaning into my touch.
"Always," I promised.
The moment shattered as Lakey's eyes widened, fixating on something behind me. "Cam," she breathed, her voice a mixture of horror and fascination. "Look."
I turned, following her gaze to a dusty filing cabinet tucked in the corner. Its top drawer was slightly ajar, a yellowed folder peeking out.
"Well, well," I drawled, sauntering over. "What nasty little secrets are you hiding?"
I yanked the drawer open, the metal screeching in protest. Inside was a treasure trove of depravity – files upon files, each labeled with a name and a number in the right-hand corner. My stomach churned as I recognized some of them from the jars in the other room.
"Jackpot," I muttered, pulling out a handful and spreading them on the desk.
Lakey was at my side in an instant, her fingers tracing the names with a reverence that sent chills down my spine. "It's all here," she whispered. "Everything they did to us. Every sick, twisted experiment."
I flipped open the nearest file, my eyes skimming over clinical descriptions of torture that made even my hardened heart skip a beat. "Jesus, fuck," I breathed.
Female circumcision. No anesthetic. Deceased. Hysterectomy. No anesthetic. Deceased.
Her laugh was brittle, bordering on hysterical. "What's the matter, big guy? Too much for even you to handle?"
I met her gaze, seeing the challenge there. "Naw, just trying to find your file." Truth was, this is fucking grotesque, but I had to save my inner crusader for the right time.
She scanned the files. “I don’t see it here.” With a sigh she opened another folder. “I don’t see Lydia’s either, but I guess they tried to perform an abortion on Sarah. No anesthetic, of course. Seems to be their favorite way of inflicting pain. Guess who was the beaming daddy?”
“Father Christopher, of course.” I looked over the office with a more critical eye. If he had felt any which way about Lakey, or noticed how special she was, like most of our foster fathers had, he’d have put her file somewhere where no one would find it.
I had a sneaking suspicion I knew what they’d done to her, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted her to find out. Her dreams of being a mother would shatter, and I might not be able to hold all the pieces together.
The devastation might just destroy her.
“Oh my God, Cam! Look!” she pointed excitedly at a nondescript box. Opening it, a small silver key lay inside.
Of course she would find it. Of course she would.
“Well? Where do you think its other half is?” She went on a frenzy searching for where the key might fit.
A silver security box caught my eye under a stack of paper in the shredder. “Probably in here.” I reached down to grab it, setting it on the table in front of us. “Babe… once you open this… if your file is in here, there’s no going back. Do you understand that? Whatever is in here, this is the truth of what happened to you. Do… are you sure you want to know?”
She looked pensive for a moment.
“Yes.” Taking a deep breath, she held the key towards the lock on the box. “Yes, I want to know.”