7. Chapter Seven Cam
Chapter Seven: Cam
Once we were on our bikes, we were cruisin' towards Oakland. Lakey was in her element. Her beautiful, long hair flowing behind her as she revved, that sexy ass leaving me in the dust. She was one with her machine and so damn distracting that I’d slowed down while she sped up.
Lakey was waiting for me at the stop sign.
She always looked so damn good in those black tights, her long, muscled legs propped up on the bike, her hand resting idly in her lap.
She revved the engine once, that sick grin splitting her face.
"What, you miss me already?" I teased as I pulled up beside her.
"So... down this road and then left?"
Nodding, she tore off, only slowing when she had to turn left.
Goddamn, you'd think she would slow the fuck down considering we didn't need to alert the Almines to our presence, but then, Lakey wasn't really the best at thinking ahead.
She had a thought and acted on it. It's what I loved about her.
Well, one of the things, but it's also what made her so dangerous.
She parked and was examining her phone before looking back at the piece of paper clutched in her hand.
Then she looked through the window at the house where the Almines supposedly lived with their foster kid.
Letting out a small growl, she threw her hands up in frustration, accidentally letting go of her phone in the process.
It smashed to the pavement with a loud clack.
"Hey, hey, what's up, buttercup? Something wrong?" I got off my bike and grabbed her phone. Shit. The screen's cracked. The map came into view before the phone descended into darkness. Well, that's shot.
"Yes, Cameron. Something is wrong. Look in the window."
I followed where she was pointing and saw someone who was definitely not John L. Almine. Or his wife, Janine. Fucking Skeeter. Gave us the wrong address. Tsk tsk. He was gonna pay for that. "Shit."
She screamed in frustration and hopped on her bike, but before she started the engine, I grabbed her hand. "Baby, it's okay. Edward Jones is near our place, okay? We will just switch targets, and I'll figure this out with Skeeter."
"No, Cameron." She replied. "I will figure this out with Skeeter."
I knew what that meant, but hey, I didn't blame her. Skeeter left unscathed the first time and now he'd done my woman wrong. He was going to pay, one way or the other. Might as well let my little harbinger of death have her shot, play ball with his balls, if you get what I mean.
"Sure, baby girl. You can have Skeeter. But what do you say we go hit up ole Eddy boy? He did quite the number on you if I remember correctly. I have a few... words, I'd like to have with him."
A slow, dangerous smirk spread across her face as she put her helmet on and revved the engine. "Well, if you put it that way," she purred. "I'd love to play with Eddy."
"Lead the way, doll." I walked back to my bike and started the engine, waiting for Lakey to head down the road towards our place. Eddy's crib was just down the way a bit. Big green house, white fence. According to Skeeter, we wouldn't find the rest of the Jones' there, but Edward would do.
He'd been a perpetrator against Lakey mainly, but not the worst one, which was saying something. At first, Carmen had been kind to us. She'd made us feel like we had a home. Like we belonged.
Then slowly, over time, the cruelty surfaced.
After our social worker, Sarah, was happy with how things were going, shit changed.
Carmen started drinking more and her temper was quite something.
Then she let her sons move into the basement.
Billy and Eddy, as she called them affectionately.
Now Bill and Ed were much, much older than us.
Edward's special was crawling into her bed at night and 'cuddling' with her.
She tried to hide it from me. I could hear him whispering to her that he would kill me if she told me what was happening, so she didn't. To this day, I've let her keep her secrets.
No use in forcing her to crack her walls wide open when I'm just as fucked up as she is.
I can't close the dam once it breaks, and if it breaks, she will probably go on a killing spree.
There's shit she doesn't even remember that happened to her, and I'm not going to be the one to help her remember. No thanks. So, now we're here. Killing the trauma, one fuckface at a time.
Up ahead, Lakes killed her engine and sat, looking at the big, beautiful house that Edward had.
She slowly took off her helmet and waited for me to do the same once I'd parked beside her.
Strange how asswipes like this get the big fancy houses, while the kids they damaged live in the slums. Fourteen stories up in a building that shakes when the wind blows, eating off plates from the dollar store, while this piece of shit had a wraparound porch and a fucking rose garden.
"You ready?" I asked, grabbing her hand.
Her eyes were huge as they looked up at me and I swore a little tear formed before it was absorbed by the darkness. She nodded once and we walked towards his door.
"So, how you want to do this? We gonna break in, or you wanna go old school style?" My butterfly knife was tucked away in my pocket and Lakes had her karambits, probably in a knife sheath around her legs.
She smirked and led the way up to the door, pressing the doorbell before turning away and looking at the street. I eyed the sides of his house. No cameras. That made things infinitely easier.
The door creaked open. "What the fuck are y'all Jehovah's doing here at this time? It's fucking six a.m. Get the fuck off my lawn."
Damn. Six already? We hadn't slept yet and Lakes didn't look like she was even tired, even after dancing for hours. Now that he said that, a small sliver of exhaustion creeped up my back, but I wasn't about to let that stop me.
Lakey turned around with a flourish. "Hello, Eddy boy."
His face fell, losing all of its color. "L-L-L..."
"Yes, it's Lakey. You remember me, don't you?" She grinned. To an outsider, it was beautiful. This wide, toothy smile that could captivate anyone.
But I loved that smile and it caused one of my own to break out on my face.
"C-C-Cam? What... how?"
"Mind inviting us in, Edward?" Lakey pushed up on her tiptoes, almost looking like the little girl she once was when she tried to use puppy eyes to get a treat.
Edward, who had been growing more and more pale by the second, stepped back and gestured for us to come in. "W-w-whatever you want. Sure, yeah. Just... just stay calm."
Lakey stepped in, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "Wouldn't dream of going nuts, Eddy! We just wanna talk!"
God, she was so sexy. My pants tightened at her display. Could a more perfect woman exist? Most people idolized princesses or celebs, but my girl was sitting on the highest pedestal. Not a damn thing could shake her from that spot.
The inside of his house was clean. Too clean.
The kind of clean that meant he had something to hide.
No dishes in the sink, no shoes by the door, no mess of any kind.
Everything in its place. Every surface wiped.
It made my skin crawl. I'd known men like this in juvie.
The ones who kept their cells spotless, their bunks tight, their faces blank.
Control freaks. The kind who needed their environment to behave because the thing inside them didn't.
Ed seemed confused and concerned at our presence, but not quite fearful enough for my taste.
Yet. Lakes took my hand, her eyes fixing on his face, watching as his gaze travelled down her body, landing on the knives strapped to her thighs.
Immediately, that intense fear hit. His eyes widened and he went white.
Ahhh, there it is. My favorite expression.
"Please, t-take a seat." Edward's hands were shaking violently as he sat in the furthest love seat from where he'd indicated for us to sit.
Lakey ignored him, instead walking to his fireplace mantle and looking at all the photos there.
Reaching up, she grabbed one, running her fingertips over the photo, almost longingly.
"Why do you have this?" Her voice was soft as she spoke.
"You must be what? 50 by now? Why does a grown ass man have a photo of a little girl?
One that's not related to him, no less."
She flipped it around, and I caught a glimpse of a little blonde girl, a smile on her face, her bright blue eyes looking up at whoever was taking the photo. She couldn't have been more than seven.
My stomach turned. Not because I was surprised, because I wasn't. Of course he kept a photo of her.
Of course he framed it and put it on his mantle between pictures of sunsets and family vacations.
Men like Ed didn't see what they did as wrong.
They repackaged it. Filed it under "memories. " Kept souvenirs.
"Uh... Um... I'm 49." He sounded like an idiot. Lakes didn't give a shit how old he was. It was disgusting to think that he'd been in his thirties when he'd abused her the way he did, but he would have been disgusting at any age. Fucking sick fuck.
Walking over to me, she gave me the photo. "Please take this out of the frame. I want that photo." Then she turned back to Edward. Pulling the elastic from her arm, she started to tie her hair up into a high, messy bun.
I chuckled, leaning back, my arms behind my head. "Ohhhhh boy. You're in shit now."
"Why. Do. You. Have. That?" The way she pronounced each word sent a shiver down my spine.
Ed looked anywhere but at her. His eyes caught mine, pleading for me to stop her. To do something. He gave up and slumped down, his face in his hands. "I like the way you look in it. So, I took it from my mom."