22. Twenty-Two Lakey
Twenty-Two: Lakey
T he midday sun beat down on us as Cam and I strode down the street, our footsteps in sync like always. My heart raced with excitement, but I kept my face neutral, matching Cam's cool demeanor. The pie was clenched in my hand, my other casually holding Cam’s. I loved how his dwarfed mine.
I’m sure to an outsider, we looked ridiculous. His massive frame towering over mine. I’ve even had comments that I was a child, and he was sick for being with me.
Usually I just smiled, leaning over and making out with him, calling him daddy to make them uncomfortable. But a few assholes took it too far, digging in how small and ‘prepubescent’ I looked. Those guys got a punch upside the head and knocked out cold. Anyway, it usually didn’t bother me much. I could do most anything he could do, except the heavy lifting. We were kinda like superheroes. Bouncing off each others’ strengths, forming one amazingly talented being.
I guess we were closer to villains. Whatever, semantics.
"So, what else did you get from Skeeter's laptop?" I asked, skipping along the sidewalk.
Cam's dark eyes flashed. "Our guy's knee-deep in Chimera's logistics. He's the key to finding Janine. Skeeter had them all arranged by file and job type. I picked this one because he’s close-by, but also because he has direct dealings with the kids. Once I opened his file, there were pictures of him and dear old mom. And before you ask, no there were no photos of the girl. She seems to be pretty well off the radar. No known date of birth records, nothing. It’s like she doesn’t exist. Her name is Lillianna, by the way."
I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face. "Lillianna... Thanks for telling me that babe."
Cam squeezed my hand. “Anything for you, baby girl.”
My mind wouldn’t slow. Wondering everything about her. Moreover, wondering where she was. For some reason, I just couldn’t let her go. Couldn’t push her from my mind. It was like she was a part of me, a piece of metal, sliding under my skin, forever imprinted on me.
As we approached the operative's house, a quaint little thing with a white picket fence, I felt the familiar rush of adrenaline. Cam's stride was confident, purposeful. I had to fight to keep from running beside him just to keep up.
We paused at the gate, and Cam turned to me. His face held that half-smile I adored. "Ready?"
I grinned, punching him in the arm, excitement coursing through me. "Born ready, baby."
As we walked up the path, I conjured images of all the fun we were about to have. This asshole had no idea what was coming. Poor bastard.
Cam knocked on the door, his posture relaxed but alert. I bounced on my toes, smacking my hands together until Cam reached down and grabbed one, pulling downward until I stood. Guess it would look weird to see such a well-dressed suburban woman bouncing around like a speed demon.
As we waited, I caught Cam watching me, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Calm down, tiger," he murmured. "Save it for our friend."
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to still. Cam was right, as always. I needed to keep my cool, at least until we got inside. Then, well... all bets were off.
The door creaked open, and I plastered on my sweetest smile. Time to play. Cam pulled me tightly to his side, my hand outstretched with the pie. Looking up at Cam, his face had eased into his award-winning charming smile. The one women couldn’t resist, and made men feel at ease.
The operative's face appeared, a mix of confusion and suspicion etched across his features. I held up the store-bought pie, my smile widening.
"Hi there, neighbor!" I chirped, channeling my best suburban housewife impression. I couldn’t tell if I was hitting the mark or if I just looked like a psychopath with how hard I was grinning. "We just moved in down the street and wanted to say hello!"
Cam chimed in, his voice smooth, "Hope we're not interrupting anything."
The guy hesitated, his eyes darting between us. I could practically see the gears turning in his head, trying to figure out if we were a threat. Oh, honey, if only you knew.
Before he could respond, Cam smoothly pushed past him, that charming yet menacing smile firmly in place. "Don't mind us, we'll just set this down in the kitchen."
I followed close behind, my eyes scanning the room hungrily. So many potential toys, so little time. The living room was cozy, filled with mundane knick-knacks that could become so much more interesting with a little creativity. Gazing off to the side, a door was ajar, the room lit with the blue of computer screens. I leaned forward ever so slightly to see three screens running some kind of coding program.
As Cam engaged the guy in small talk, keeping him distracted, I wandered around. A letter opener on the side table, bills underneath it, caught my eye, its blade glinting in the afternoon light. My fingers itched to grab it, to feel its weight in my hand, but I couldn’t cheat on my karambits like that. These girls were thirsty.
I turned back to our host, my eyes wide and innocent. "What a lovely home you have," I cooed, sidling up to Cam. "Don't you think so, darling?"
Cam's arm snaked around my waist, possessive and warm. "Absolutely stunning," he agreed, but his eyes never left the operative's face. “I don’t think you introduced yourself, love. This is Steven. Steven, my wife, Daisy.”
I could feel the tension in the room, thick and delicious. “Steven” was on edge, his body language screaming discomfort. Good. Let him squirm. He mumbled a hello, shuffling his feet.
I was bored. This conversation was boring, and I resisted the urge to bounce on my toes. Instead, I twirled my hair and pretended to be engrossed in whatever the fuck this slimeball was saying.
The moment Cam's hand tightened on my waist; I knew it was showtime. In one fluid motion, he released me and lunged at the guy. I watched, mesmerized, as Cam's fist connected with the guy's jaw. The crack echoed through the room. Boom! In another life, he could have been a boxer. Probably something to do with the fighting ring he fucked around in for a while. I was half-shocked the guy’s neck didn’t break from the impact of that hit.
"Fuck, that never gets old," I whispered, my pulse quickening as the operative crumpled to the floor with a loud thud.
Cam dragged the unconscious body to a nearby chair, his movements practiced and efficient. I grabbed some zip ties from my purse, tossing them his way. "Here, babe. Make it tight."
As he secured our new plaything, I circled the room again, going through it more thoroughly, humming softly. My fingers trailed over various objects – a picture frame with stock people in it, a vase holding dead flowers, that tempting letter opener. Each one a potential instrument of pain.
"You're getting that look, Lakes," Cam warned. "Remember, we need information first."
I pouted but nodded. "I know, I know. But after?"
He smirked, dark eyes glinting. "Then he's all yours, sweetheart."
“Good. You took Skeeter and that really hurt me, Cam.”
Good ole Steve started to stir, groaning as consciousness returned. I skipped over, crouching down to peer into his face. "Wakey, wakey," I sing-songed, tapping his cheek. "Sorry, there’s no eggs and bakey."
His eyes flew open, panic setting in as he realized his predicament. I grinned, all teeth and malice. "Now, now. No need to be scared... yet."
I stood, circling him slowly. My fingers trailed across his shoulders, feeling him tense beneath my touch. "You see," I explained, voice sickeningly sweet, "we're going to have a little chat. And how much fun we have depends entirely on you."
Grabbing the letter opener, I pressed the tip against his palm. Just enough pressure to dimple the skin, not quite breaking it. "Shall we begin?"
I dug the letter opener in just a hair deeper, drawing a thin line of blood. The operative winced, his eyes darting between me and Cam.
Cam leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching us with that infuriatingly sexy smirk. "Let's talk about Janine Almine," he said. "What's her role in Chimera?"
Steven’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. I giggled, trailing the letter opener up his arm. "Cat got your tongue, Steve? Better start singing before I decide to carve you into a pretty little melody."
"Fuck… nothing! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” He stared at my unmoving face and then started blabbering again. “I—I don't know much," he stammered. "She's high up, that's all I know!"
I tsked, shaking my head. "Now, now. We both know that's not true. Lying makes me very... upset."
Cam pushed off the wall, his steps thudding against the floor as he walked up behind me, laying a hand on my shoulder. "Let's try again. What's Chimera planning?"
His eyes widened, fear rolling off him in waves. Why were all these guys such bitches? Even I wouldn’t be this afraid, but I could smell the terror. I leaned in close, whispering, "Better answer him, darling. He's not as patient as I am." A lie, but he didn’t need to know that.
"They're... they're planning something big," he blurted out. "Something about reclaiming what's theirs. That's all I know, I swear! What the fuck do you even need this information for? It’s useless to a couple of fucking nuts."
I frowned, unsatisfied. My body tensed, eager to inflict more pain, to peel away his lies along with his skin. But Cam's hand on my shoulder held me back.
"Reclaiming what, exactly?" Cam pressed; his voice dangerously low.
The operative shook his head frantically. "I don't know the details. It's all cryptic. Something about lost assets, a project from years ago. Please, that's all I know!"
I locked eyes with Cam, disappointment clear on my face. This wasn't nearly enough information. My grip tightened on the letter opener, imagining all the ways I could make this man scream.
But first…
“What do you know about Lakey Aldrich and Cam Axley?”
“Wha—” his eyes narrowed as he studied our faces, a smile creeping over his face. The air felt like it had gotten sucked out and this fucker seemed to grow in size as familiarity swept over his face. How curious. He didn’t seem to be afraid anymore. Perhaps he knew death was knocking. “I know they’re a pair of bitches, taking on more than they can chew.”
Cam laughed, “Yeah, maybe. But how’s about you humor us and tell us what you know.”
The guy shifted in his seat, eyeing the letter opener in my hand as I tossed it back and forth. “Fine. Cam Axley, 28 years old, born in a laboratory to some cunt that didn’t make the surgery. Placed into foster care, bounced around, committed a crime and went to prison. Fell off the map upon release. Until now.”
“And me?” I pressed. I needed to know. Needed to hear the truth.
“Ahhh, Lakey. The Father’s favorite little girl. You know, he called you the prodigal daughter, right up until you escaped. Stupid fucking nuns. I told them you wouldn’t fit in there. After your escape, he went nuts, but… then he wiped his hands clean of you. Something else came up. Lost interest in finding the two of you. Got what he wanted and the rest… but, man, just look at you. You’re stunning. A true masterpiece. The best we ever made. Well, almost the best. The role has been… reassigned.”
“The fuck you mean, ‘made’?”
“Oh, you’re not as bright as I thought you’d be. Odd considering how fucking high your IQ scored in all the tests.” He laughed, the sound grating on my nerves. “You and Cam were the result of several decade long experiments. You were designed; each gene carefully selected until you were placed into your host. You were supposed to be something great. Something… more. How disappointing to see that this is what you’ve become.”
What. The. Fuck. I stabbed the letter opener through the armrest on the chair, into the flesh between his thumb and index finger, eliciting a shriek of pain from him. “Explain yourself. Now!” Cam was silent, as if he too wanted the answer to this question but was trying to remain calm or composed or whatever the fuck.
He winced. “After you two… left, they destroyed everything... Thought they did, anyway. Word came down the pipes that someone ransacked the place. Suppose that was you two. Surprised you didn’t fucking figure it out yourselves. It was all there.”
I pulled the letter opened out, driving it into his thigh. “What. Do. You. Mean?”
He screamed like a little bitch, trying to grab at his leg as blood seeped out, staining his pants. What a baby. It’s just a fucking letter opener. When you think about it, it really could have been much worse. I could have stabbed his sweaty little dick. Rolling my eyes, I opened my mouth to taunt him, but he heaved a sigh and started talking before I even had the chance to stab him again.
“Man, you’re slow, aren’t you? You are a byproduct of something greater. Greater than either of you could ever picture, ever dream of. I’d have given them my own daughter, if they could have made her into half of what they’d made you into, but they only want ‘pure’ stock. Bloodlines, untainted.” He breathed heavily as I pushed the letter opener in, pulling it out slightly and changing directions. Blood oozed from the wound, dripping onto the floor. “I am not lost, for I belong. And those who stray, I shall find.” He whispered, staring straight at me.
The words wrapped around me, putting me in a haze for just a moment. Long enough to see his rotten teeth glimmering at me as he smiled. Shaking my head, I dispelled the feeling, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and driving my fist into his shocked face.
Guess he thought some weird fucking words would turn me into a blubbering mess. Wrong bitch, bucko. That shit meant nothing to me.
His pathetic whimpering grated on my last nerve. I'd had enough of his half-truths and vague bullshit. My playful smile twisted into a snarl as I leaned in close, my breath hot on his ear.
"Listen here, you worthless sack of shit," I hissed, tired of the riddles. None of it made sense. I have memories of a mother. Didn’t I? "I'm done playing nice. You've got exactly ten seconds to spill everything you know about Chimera's plans, or I'll start peeling off your fingernails one by one."
I felt Cam shift behind me, his presence both comforting and electrifying. "Lakey," he warned, but I was too far gone.
He blubbered on, his face a mask of pain, the fear back in place. "Please, I swear I don't know anything else! I only dealt with the kids. They keep us in the dark, compartmentalized—"
My hand shot out, gripping his throat and squeezing. "Wrong answer, sweet cheeks."
Cam's voice cut through the haze of my rage. "Lakey, we need him alive—"
But it was too late. In one fluid motion, I jammed the letter opener into his jugular. Blood sprayed, hot and sticky, across my face and chest. The sudden silence was deafening, broken only by the wet gurgling of the dying man.
I stood there, panting, as the last twitches of life left his body. The rush of the kill sang through my veins, but beneath it, a gnawing frustration ate at me. We'd failed. We hadn't gotten the information we needed.
Cam's heavy sigh brought me crashing back to reality. I turned to face him, blood dripping from my chin, waiting for the lecture I knew was coming.
His dark eyes flashed with irritation, but his voice remained eerily calm. "Well, fuck me sideways. That's one way to end an interrogation."
He moved past me, his massive frame brushing against my blood-soaked clothes. I watched, frozen, as he grabbed a cloth from the pocket of his jeans and began methodically wiping down surfaces. His hands, those same hands that could be so gentle with me, now efficiently erasing our presence
"You gonna stand there catching flies, or you gonna help?" Cam's gruff voice snapped me out of my daze.
I blinked, realizing I'd been staring at the corpse. "I... I didn't mean to—"
"It’s fine," Cam cut me off, tossing me a rag. "Start on the doorknobs. Anything you touched, wipe it down."
As I mechanically started cleaning, my mind raced. That asshole’s final gurgle echoed in my ears, mixing with the ghostly screams of all my past victims. Usually, killing brought me peace, a twisted sense of control. But this time, something felt... off.
Cam's voice broke through my spiraling thoughts. "You good?"
I looked up, catching his concerned glance, his hand never stopping its movement, cleaning whatever surfaces he thought we touched.
"I'm fine," I lied, forcing a smile. "Just peachy."
Cam snorted, clearly not buying it. "Sure, and I'm fucking the tooth fairy."
I turned back to the task at hand, desperately trying to ignore the growing unease in my gut. What the hell was wrong with me? Since when did I question my kills?
I’d never felt much of anything until all this shit started.
Couldn’t tell if I enjoyed feeling or hated it.
As Cam finished up the last of the cleanup, I found myself drawn back to the lifeless body. The operative's eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, accusing. Judging.
I felt Cam's presence behind me before I heard him. "Lakey," he said softly, genuine concern in his voice. "Talk to me."
I couldn't tear my eyes away from the corpse. "We didn't get what we needed," I whispered, my voice sounding small and broken even to my own ears. "I fucked up."
His hand came to rest on my shoulder as he moved his other to wrap around my waist, his touch both comforting and possessive. "Hey," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "Look at me."
I turned, meeting his dark eyes. For a moment, I saw a flash of the vulnerability we only ever showed each other.
"We got enough," Cam said firmly. "And we'll get more. This fucker was just a pawn anyway. Head into his office and see what you can find. Call me if you need help. We can pile his info onto a thumb drive, search the drawers."
I nodded, trying to shake off the weird funk I'd fallen into. Cam's hand slid down my arm, fingers intertwining with mine as he gently but insistently tugged me towards him. “C’mere.” He kissed the top of my head. “I love you.”
“Mmmf, love you too.” I turned and headed into the office, doing exactly as Cam said. One of the drawers had a USB and I got to work downloading his files from the computer and wiping down everything I touched. Heading back towards the hall, I glanced around one last time.
"C'mon," he murmured. "Let's blow this banana stand before the neighbors get nosy."
As we stepped out into the cool night air, I felt the weight of what we'd done settle over us. The silence between us was heavy, charged with unspoken tension.
I glanced at Cam out of the corner of my eye. His jaw was clenched tight, eyes scanning our surroundings. I knew that look. He was on high alert, ready for any threat.
"You think anyone heard?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Cam shook his head. "Nah. But we can't be too careful. Seems odd that there’s never anyone here to guard these guys. Maybe they really are low enough level that Chimera doesn’t give a fuck whether they live or die." He sighed. “Or maybe it’s a trap to see if we walk out.”
We walked briskly down the darkened street, our footsteps eerily loud in the silence. My mind raced, replaying the events of the night on a loop. The way Steve had smiled before a mask of fear slipped over him. Killing him didn’t make me feel anything.
Losing information made me feel a sense of loss. The way he whispered, as if for only my ears to hear… what was it he said? Something about finding the lost?
I swallowed hard. Fuck.
As we approached our apartment building, the familiar sight of its grimy facade sent a wave of relief washing over me. Home sweet fuckin' home. It was quick work getting upstairs, taking two at a time until we hit our floor and headed to our apartment.
Cam unlocked the door, ushering me inside with a hand on the small of my back. As soon as it clicked shut behind us, I felt my legs give out. I slumped against the wall, suddenly exhausted.
"Fuck," I breathed, running a hand through my hair. "That was... intense."
Cam's dark eyes locked onto mine. "You good?"
I nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah. Just coming down from the high, I guess."
He snorted, a wry smirk tugging at his lips. "Some high. You were fucking ruthless back there, babe."
"Says you," I shot back, but there was no heat in it. My mind drifted back to the way Cam had effortlessly subdued the guy, his movements fluid and practiced. It was... hot, if I was being honest.
Cam must have caught something in my expression, because his smirk widened. He stepped closer, caging me against the wall with his arms.
"You a bit turned on right now, lil’ psycho?” he purred, voice low and dangerous.
I felt a familiar heat coil in my belly. "Maybe," I teased. "You may or may not have looked like an avenging god for a hot second, but I wouldn’t want to tell you that. Might make your head swell a few sizes."
His lips crashed into mine, hungry and demanding. I melted into him, relishing the taste of violence and desire on his tongue. When we finally broke apart, both panting, I saw my own darkness reflected in his eyes.
"We're so fucked up," I whispered, half-laughing.
Cam's grin was razor-sharp. "Wouldn't have it any other way, sweetheart."