37. Thirty-Seven Cam
Thirty-Seven: Cam
I watched Lakey shove clothes into her duffel bag, her movements sharp and jerky. She was so on and off this last week, it was hard to tell what she was thinking.
"This is bullshit," she muttered, not for the first time. "We shouldn't trust these people."
I zipped up my own bag and sighed. "We don't have much choice, babe. It's either go with them or wait for Chimera to find us. Besides, you’re the one who said yes for the group, so why are you acting like it’s such a horrible idea, all of a sudden?"
Lakey's eyes flashed dangerously. "Maybe we should let them find us. I'd love to get my hands on those fuckers." She threw my sweats at me, smacking me in the face. “And just because I said yes, doesn’t mean I think it’s a great idea. You’re supposed to be my North Star, pointing me in the right direction, so really, if this goes sideways, it’s your fucking fault and you will not stand in my way, especially if I get to kill people. Got it? Ugh. I hate not sleeping in my own damn bed.”
A grin tugged at my lips. God, I loved it when she got all fiery. "As hot as that would be, we're out skilled. For now, at least. Besides, you’ll have Rose. I think you just don’t wanna leave our space, and that’s fine, Lakes, but as much as I hate to admit it, they’re right. I can’t protect you if we get swarmed or overrun." She hated when I talk about protecting her. I knew she’s fully capable, but that didn’t take away from the fact that she was my girl and it was my job to make sure I put myself between her and death where-ever I can.
She huffed but didn't argue further. I knew she saw the logic, even if she hated it.
As I watched her continue her frantic packing, my mind drifted back to the shithole foster home where we first started lashing out. I'd been what, eight? Lakey was almost two years younger, all skinny limbs and wild eyes with unbrushed hair. The first time our ‘dad’ laid hands on her, she went to sit in the corner of the yard and began methodically pulling the wings off flying ants. She didn’t cry, didn’t scream. She took his beating and bore the blue and purple bruises for weeks. She put her head down and took her rage out in a different way, honing those skills that had been born into her heart of darkness. I knew right then that one day, I’d take revenge for every bruise anyone ever laid on her beautiful body.
I also knew that she was meant to be mine.
"Earth to Cam," Lakey's voice snapped me back to the present. "You good?"
I blinked, refocusing on her face. "Yeah, just thinking about the good old days."
Her lips quirked up. "Foster care or juvie?"
"Foster care. Remember how we used to sneak out at night?"
Lakey's smile turned wistful. "Yeah. Simpler times."
I snorted. "If by simpler you mean constantly dodging belt-wielding drunks, sure."
She shrugged. "At least the enemies were obvious back then."
I couldn't argue with that. These days, it was getting harder to tell friend from foe. Speaking of which...
"We better get out there," I said, nodding towards the door. "Make sure our new friends aren't planning to screw us over."
Lakey nodded grimly and hefted her bag. We headed out to the main room where the others were waiting. Sarah and Kyle were by the door, geared up and ready to go. Rose stood off to the side, clutching a pathetically small backpack.
"Is that all you're bringing?" I asked her, raising an eyebrow.
Rose flushed. "It's all I have. Lakey gave me some clothes, but we never went shopping, remember?" she mumbled. Then, turning to Sarah, she asked hesitantly, "Do you think... maybe we could get some more clothes for me at some point?"
Sarah's face softened. "Of course, sweetie. Once we're settled in, we'll take care of that. Cam, I’ll set the GPS for you, just follow it and you’ll get there. It’s off the beaten path, but I think you’ll find it up to your standards."
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at the display. Lakey caught my eye and smirked, clearly thinking the same thing.
"Alright assholes," Kyle announced. "Let's move out."
As we filed out of the apartment, I locked the door behind us. Somehow, I knew we’d never be back, and yet I wanted to make sure that our little life stayed preserved inside. It was pathetic, sure, but I wasn’t ready for the weird sense of loss that came over me at the realization that someday, someone else will occupy this space and overwrite all the memories we’d created in those walls.
The wind whipped through my hair as we tore down the desolate highway, Lakey riding by my side. The roar of our bikes drowned out everything but my own thoughts, which were racing faster than the scenery blurring past us.
I glanced in my side mirror, catching sight of Kyle's SUV following close behind. Sarah was in the passenger seat, her face a mask of concentration. In the back, I could just make out Rose's small form, her head resting against the window.
"You good?" I asked over the speaker to Lakes.
She gave me a thumbs up, "Never better, baby. Nothing like a ride to get the blood pumping!"
As we veered off onto a dirt road, memories of another frantic escape flooded my mind. I was thirteen again, heart pounding as Lakey and I ran from our foster home. The smell of smoke and gasoline still clung to our clothes as the house went up in flames. Dearest mother had forgotten food on the stove, causing a rapidly spreading blaze, destroying everything and almost killing us in the process. Sarah had been the one to take us out of their care, before placing us with our worst —and last— family.
I shook my head, forcing myself back to the present, checking the GPS to make sure we were on the right track before it went static, the feed offline. The trees were getting thicker now, the road narrowing to little more than a path. After what felt like hours of twisting and turning through the wilderness, a clearing finally came into view.
And there it was — our supposed sanctuary.
The cabin looked like something out of a doomsday prepper's wet dream. High, sturdy walls of rough-hewn logs. Narrow, reinforced windows that were more like gun slits. A roof that seemed designed to repel both snow and bullets.
As we pulled up, I let out a low whistle. "Well, if we're going down, at least we'll do it in style."
Lakey snorted, dismounting gracefully. "Please. As if I'd let anyone take us down without one hell of a fight."
I grinned, feeling that familiar rush of adrenaline and affection. My vixen.
Kyle pulled up beside us, the SUV's engine cutting off with a final rumble. As Sarah and Rose climbed out, I took in our surroundings. Dense forest pressed in on all sides, broken only by the narrow road we'd come in on. The air was thick with the scent of pine and something wilder – the promise of isolation.
"Home sweet home," Kyle announced. "What do you think?"
I eyed the cabin critically. "Looks like the kind of place serial killers dream about."
Sarah shot me a reproachful look, but Lakey just laughed. "Good thing we fit right in then, huh babe?"
I winked at her, then turned back to Kyle. "So, what's the security situation like? You got more than just some sturdy logs between us and whoever might come knocking?"
Kyle's eyes glinted. "Oh, I've got a few tricks up my sleeve. Why don't we head inside, and I'll give you the grand tour?"
As we grabbed our bags and headed towards the cabin, feeling like we were walking into a trap. But then, when had our lives ever been anything but one big, deadly game? Regardless, it was too late. We were here and we’d deal with whatever waited for us on the other side of that door.
I stepped inside, and the chill hit me, raising the hairs on my arms. The interior was all concrete and steel, a far cry from the rustic log cabin exterior. It was like walking into a bunker disguised as a quaint woodland retreat.
"Cozy," I drawled, my eyes scanning the sparse furnishings. A few metal chairs, a table that looked like it could double as a surgery station, and a wood-burning stove that seemed almost comically out of place among the clinical surroundings. At least there was a couple couches in front of the fireplace, which was the only thing in here that felt homey.
Lakey sidled up next to me, her fingers intertwining with mine. "Reminds me of jail," she whispered, a hint of nostalgia in her voice that would've been disturbing to anyone who didn't know her like I did.
“Yeah, you shoulda tried actually being in one. The shows you watch are nothing like reality.”
She giggled, leaning up to give me a quick kiss before going back to dissecting our new abode.
I squeezed her hand, memories of our past flooding back. The cold walls, the constant vigilance, the need to watch each other's backs. It wasn't so different now.
"At least this place has better amenities," I murmured back, nodding towards the stove. "Juvie didn’t allow us to cook shit. I dunno, this place kinda reminds me of that one place we were in where they kept the temperatures freezing all the time and the heat didn’t work, do you remember that place? Fuck, I forgot their names. It’ll come to me later."
Lakey's eyes lit up with that dangerous glint I loved so much. "How could I forget? That's when I learned how creative you could get with a lighter, a metal bucket and some stolen booze."
I grinned, about to remind her of exactly how we'd kept warm those cold nights, when Sarah's voice cut through our private moment.
"Rose, why don't I show you to your room?" She gestured towards a narrow staircase. "It's just upstairs."
I watched as Rose hesitated, looking at us for confirmation that she was safe. The damn kid looked like she was about to bolt. Guess Sarah’s trauma shit was only useful while it was being done. I snorted. Waste of fucking time trying to unravel the mess. Easier to just tuck it away in a locked box and release it when you needed to access a little extra oomph .
Sarah must have sensed it too because her voice softened. "It's okay, sweetie. You're safe here. I promise."
I felt a twinge of... something. Not quite jealousy, not quite concern. Just a vague unease as I watched Sarah gently guide Rose towards the stairs. It reminded me of Mrs. Keene, a respite worker, the only one of those fucks who'd ever shown me an ounce of kindness. For a moment, I was back in that dingy kitchen, eleven years old and scarred in more ways than one, as Mrs. Keene tended to my latest injuries with gentle hands and soft words. We were only there for a couple days a month, but she was always kind when she saw us. It was the only reason she didn’t make the list.
"You okay, baby?" Lakey's voice snapped me back to the present.
I shook off the memory, forcing a smirk. "Never better, sweetheart. Just thinking about all the fun we could have in a place like this."
Lakey's answering grin was wicked. "Oh, I'm counting on it."
Kyle cleared his throat, drawing our attention. "Alright, that’s enough of that. Time for the grand tour of our little fortress."
I raised an eyebrow. "What, no chocolate on the pillow?"
Kyle snorted, leading us towards a nondescript section of wall. "Sorry, fresh out. But I've got something better."
He pressed a hidden panel, and a portion of the wall slid open with a soft hiss. My eyes widened as I took in the arsenal concealed within.
"Holy shit," I breathed, running my fingers over the gleaming metal of an assault rifle. "You weren't kidding about being prepared."
Lakey's eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. "Ooh, dibs on the sniper rifle!"
I chuckled, wrapping an arm around her waist. "You don’t even like guns.” I poked her in the ribs. “Let's hope we don't need to use any of this. If this place is as good as you say, we shouldn’t need to."
Kyle nodded, his lips thin, his jaw clenched. "Hope for the best, prepare for the worst. There are more hidden compartments throughout the house. I'll show you the rest later."
As he continued his tutorial on the safehouse's defenses, I found my attention drifting. Sarah and Rose's muffled voices floated down from upstairs, and I noticed Lakey's gaze flicking towards the sound.
"You happy, babe?" I murmured, giving her hip a gentle squeeze.
Lakey's smile was brittle. "Just peachy. Why wouldn't I be?"
I studied her face, seeing the conflict in those beautiful, deadly eyes. The battle between her softer impulses and the darkness she wanted to unleash.
"You know," I said softly, "it's okay to care about the kid. Doesn't make you weak."
Lakey's laugh was sharp and humorless. "Says the emotionally stunted nut.”
I shrugged. "Takes one to know one, sweetheart."
An hour later, the stove crackled, casting flickering shadows across our little band of misfits. I lounged on the threadbare couch, Lakey curled against my side like a black cat. The smell of Sarah's beef stew filled the air, a homey scent at odds with the tension thrumming beneath the surface.
"This is nice," I broke the silence. "Real cozy. Like an episode of some soap opera. Just a few friends, hanging out."
Kyle snorted, ladling out bowls of stew. "Yeah, if your show involves guns and death."
"You've clearly never met my foster families," I quipped, fists and broken bottles flashed through my mind. I pushed them away, not wanting to go to that place right now, focusing on the warmth of Lakey against me.
Sarah shot me a look that was equal parts exasperation and concern. "Can we be serious for a moment? We need to discuss our next move."
I raised an eyebrow. "By all means, enlighten us, oh wise one."
Kyle cleared his throat, setting down his bowl as he fixed me with a hard stare. Can’t make jokes about his woman, I guess. Weak ass. Lakey and I rib each other all the time. It’s called love. "Right. So, Chimera. They're not your average evil corporation. These guys are relentless. Once they've marked you as an asset, they don't stop until they've got you — or until you're dead."
"Charming," Lakey muttered, her fingers tracing idle patterns on my thigh. “You know we already know quite a bit, right? We stole some fat dude and made him sing like a tweety bird.”
I leaned forward, squeezing her thigh so she didn’t say anything else, wanting to hear what they had to offer, curiosity piqued. "What exactly makes us so special? I mean, besides our obvious charm and good looks."
Kyle's expression darkened. "They're obsessed with enhancing human potential. And from what I know, you two... you're already operating on a different level. Chimera wants to understand how and replicate it. You were their most successful projects. Aside from one other."
A chill ran down my spine, flashes of needles and cold metal tables surfacing. I plastered on a cocky grin. "Well, can't blame them for recognizing talent when they see it."
Kyle snorted, shoving a spoonful of food in his mouth, his jaw working it hard before he swallowed a moment later.
"Anyway, thanks for the new home, but what are we doing now? We’ve been over the places, people and things, but what are we doing first? I say we should storm headquarters and leave them in pieces.” I said, wrapping an arm around Lakey's shoulders. "We can't hide in this cabin forever."
Sarah sighed, rubbing her temples. "We need some information. Things have shifted in recent weeks, thanks to your murder spree, so almost everything we’d collected has now changed. We need to rebuild our database. Contacts, hideouts, anything we can use against them. For now, we lay low and gather intel. We have old plans, plans from when Kyle got out, but things are always changing and will keep changing as they try figure out what to do. Believe it or not, you killing their foster providers has caused quite the commotion. Kyle noticed enhanced guards on his stake-out rounds."
I nodded, half-listening. Playing defense wasn't my style, but I'd bide my time. After all, the hunt was half the fun.
Lakey's chest heaved as her lips twisted in a pout. I could practically feel the bloodlust radiating off her. "Fuck that," she spat. "We should hit them hard and fast. Cut the head off the snake before it can strike."
I squeezed her shoulder, trying to rein in her impulses before they got out of hand. Not that I didn't share them, but we only knew snippets. "Easy there, sugar. We’ve done good, but we can do more if we see what Kyle’s got." I hated to admit it, but if his intel was better than mine, I’d like to see it. I brought Skeet’s laptop, and I’d share that with him once he’d earned the right to see mine. He’s gotta show me his first.
She pouted, looking for all the world like a disappointed kid who'd been told she couldn't have ice cream for dinner. It was almost cute, if you ignored the fact that her idea of 'dessert' involved significantly more stabbing.
Sarah pinched the bridge of her nose. "We can't just charge in blind. They’re too well-connected, too powerful. Think politicians, senators, cops. They’re not a person; they’re a spider web. We need a strategy."
I was about to chime in with my own two cents when Rose's quiet voice cut through the tension. "I... I think I might know someone who could help."
All eyes turned to her, and she shrank back like she wanted to disappear into the couch cushions. Her face looked like she regretted opening her mouth at all.
"It's okay, Rose, you have a voice here," Sarah coaxed, her voice so gentle it made me want to punch a kitten. "What do you mean?"
Rose took a deep breath. "There's this woman... Janine. I think her name was Allamy or something. She used to visit me at the facility sometimes. I think... I think she might be important in Chimera."
Hearing the name again sent me reeling. Janine fucking Almine. Images flashed through my mind – a kind smile, a gentle touch, promises of safety that turned to ash. I'd trusted her once, back when we were first placed with her. Before I learned that she was a Goddamn cunt, and that trust was for pussies and fools.
Lakey went dead still. She was probably thinking about her daughter. Her eyes flashed up to mine, pleading with me not to say anything about her. Not yet.
"Well, well," I drawled, forcing a smirk to hide the turmoil churning in my gut. "Looks like our old friend Janine's been busy. Small world, huh?"
Kyle leaned forward, his expression intense. "You know her?"
I laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Oh yeah, we go way back. Let's just say she's got a real talent for playing mother hen to lost little lambs. Right before she leads them to the slaughter."
Looking back down at Lakey, her eyes burned with a rage untampered.
"Hey, sugar," I said, loud enough for the others to hear. "Mind helping me check the perimeter. All this talk of old ghosts is making me twitchy."
Her lips curved into that wicked smile I loved. "Aw, feeling jumpy, big guy? Don't worry, I'll protect you from the boogeyman."
We slipped out into the cool night air, leaving the others to their conversating. As soon as we were out of earshot, I let out a long, shaky breath. "Fuck." I needed to tell her about what I remembered, but we weren’t much for the feelings type. Felt weird having this pressure sitting in my chest.
Lakey's hand found mine, her touch both an anchor and a reminder of how far we'd come. "Talk to me, Cam. What's got your panties in a knot?”
I closed my eyes, reopening them to see hers fixed on my face. "Thought we could use some air. I’m just… so full of rage. For us, but mainly for you. Janine triggered you; I could tell."
"She deserves to die, but not before we get my daughter." Lakey’s eyes narrowed on my twitching jaw. “What is it, Cameron?”
I nodded, remembering shit Janine used to do to me that I’d pushed so far down it felt like it had never happened. "She will die, babe, that’s for sure. But yeah, there’s more. She used to do shit to me; I didn’t remember it until now. I dunno babe, I just… there’s a lot swirling around in my chest, right now. I need you to keep it together because right now I’m struggling to hold the rage at bay."
Lakey's grip on my hand tightened. "We should kill her. Slowly."
I barked out a laugh, some of the tension easing. "God, I love you. And we will. Soon. She might be useful."
"Always the strategist," Lakey teased, but I could hear the concern underneath. "We get my daughter back and then we peel the skin from her face and feed it to her."
I pulled her close, breathing in the scent of her hair. "I get the sense Kyle and Sarah are genuine, but I still don’t trust them. They aren’t like us."
Lakey snorted. "Spectators, really."
"Exactly," I agreed. "Which means we might need to improvise, if it comes down to it. You with me?"
She looked up at me, those baby blues gleaming with a mixture of love and death that never failed to send a thrill through me. "Always, baby. It’s you and me.”
I kissed her then, hard and desperate, pouring all my fear and rage and twisted love into it. When we finally broke apart, I felt steadier. "Let's go see what brilliant plan they’ve cooked up. And Lakey? If things don’t pan out the way they’re saying..."
"I know," she finished, her smile sweet and soft. "We do what needs to be done. Fuck their plans.”
As we walked back into the main room, the air was thick with tension. Sarah was hunched over a map, her fingers tracing invisible routes while Kyle paced behind her, his face eerily blank. Rose sat in the corner, looking small and vulnerable, but there was a new resolve in her eyes that hadn't been there before.
I cleared my throat, drawing their attention. "Alright, folks. What's the grand plan?"
Sarah looked up; her face reserved. "We go after Janine. It's risky, but she's our best lead on Chimera. If we can get to her, maybe we can finally put an end to this nightmare."
I felt Lakey's hand tighten in mine, her excitement palpable. I squeezed back, a silent reminder to play it cool.
"And how exactly do we find her?" I asked, keeping my tone casual. Didn’t need to reveal that I know her other alias’ just yet. "I'm guessing she's not listed in the yellow pages under 'Evil Foster Mommy'."
Kyle snorted, but Sarah just shook her head. "Rose thinks she knows where Janine might be hiding. It's a long shot, but it's all we've got."
I turned to Rose, raising an eyebrow. "Care to share with the class, sweetheart?"
Rose rolled her eyes at the endearment, but her voice was strong when she spoke. "There's a research facility, about a hundred miles north of here. Janine... she used to talk about it sometimes. Said it was her 'backup plan' if things ever went south. She offered to bring me with if I wanted to leave."
"Well," Lakey drawled, her eyes glittering dangerously, "I'd say things have gone pretty fucking south, wouldn't you?" Then her face took on a strange look, “Weird that she was so attached to you, though.”
Sarah frowned, “What did Janine do to you guys, Lakey? I know I placed you with her and her husband, but he turned up missing a couple years back.”
“None of your business.”
Sarah sighed, coming around to put her hand on Lakey’s shoulder. “I’m here to help, Lakey. If you’re not ready to tell me, that’s fine, I’ll wait, but whatever you’re hiding might help us if we know what it is.”
I chuckled and she cut me a sharp look. “You want to tell me them, Cam?”
He turned to me, cocking his eyebrow as he studied my face. “Nah, it’s your story, baby,” then he looked at Sarah, “and she will tell you when she’s good and ready. If she ever is. As for right now, we’re ready to go on the attack. Let’s just say we have some personal reasons for wanting to have a chat with her.”
"We're not attacking anyone," Sarah said sharply. "This is a recon mission, nothing more. We get in, we find Janine, bag and tag her, we get out. Nothing else."
I had to bite back a laugh. As if this bitch could tell us what to do. The only thing needed was finding out where the fuck they took Lakey’s daughter, and me crushing her skull under my boot as payment for her sins. But I kept my face neutral, nodding along like a good little soldier.
"Sure thing, boss," I said, throwing her a mock salute. "So, when do we move out?"
"First light tomorrow," Kyle answered. "We'll take separate vehicles, approach from different directions. Less chance of being spotted that way. Theres an old sedan in the back. Ain’t pretty but still runs."
As they continued hashing out the details, excitement started to replace the anger. The anticipation of violence, of chaos. I glanced at my girl and saw the same hunger reflected in her eyes.
"Well," I said, clapping my hands together with false cheer, "sounds like we've got a busy day ahead of us. Best get some rest while we can."
As we walked upstairs to our room, I caught Lakey's eye. The unspoken promise passed between us: No matter what happened, we'd do whatever it took to survive. To win. Fuck the rest.
And if that meant leaving a trail of bodies in our wake? Well, that was just par for the course and our new friends would just have to accept us for what we were.
Murderers. Vigilantes. Reapers of revenge.