20. Chapter Twenty Lakey
Chapter Twenty: Lakey
I jolted awake, my heart slamming against my ribs.
Janine's face—only it wasn’t her face. Her face was a distorted memory—twisted in that grotesque smile, burned behind my eyelids.
My legs moved of their own accord, carrying me up and down our hallways.
Fuck. I couldn't shake this feeling, like maggots crawling under my skin.
I paced our apartment, the streetlight outside throwing shapes across the walls. My feet slapped against the cold floor as I circled back to the bed where Cam lay sprawled.
"Cam," I shoved his shoulder. "Wake up, you asshole."
He grunted, rolling over. "The fuck, Lakey? It's ass o'clock."
"We gotta deal with Janine. Now."
Cam's dark eyes cracked open, fixing me with an annoyed glare. "Can't this wait 'til morning?"
I shook my head, my fingers twitching with restless energy. "No, it can't. Something's off. We need to handle this bitch before she causes trouble."
He sat up with a grunt, running a hand through his messy hair. "You and your fucking intuition," he grumbled.
"Don't pretend you don't love it," I was already pulling on my leather jacket.
Ten or so minutes later, we roared up to Janine's address on our bikes. The engine's rumble faded to silence as I cut the ignition, leaving only the faint chirp of crickets.
I stared at the structure, memories flooding back.
How many nights had I spent in that tree, watching that little girl through her bedroom window?
My fingers tightened on the handlebars as I remembered her wide eyes, the pink curtains, the way she'd wave at nothing in the dark as if she knew I was out there.
How had I not known that fucking Janine lived here?
All this time. Seven years of sitting in that tree, seven years of watching this house, and the woman inside it was one of the people who'd broken me before I was old enough to form memories of it.
The house where my girl lived was Janine Almine's house.
The realization hit me in the stomach, not the chest. Lower.
Deeper. In the place where the surgical scars sat, the ones I couldn't explain, the ones that belonged to memories I didn't have.
Janine had been part of whatever happened to me before Carmen's house.
Before the fork. Before Cam. And she'd been raising a child this whole time, right here, right under my nose, while I sat in a tree thinking I was protecting something.
I remembered the day she came out and told me to leave, only I hadn’t recognized her then. My brain had been so muddled from SINNERS, she felt familiar but strange. Now, I was kicking myself for not remembering. For not slitting her throat when I had the chance.
"Earth to psycho," Cam's voice broke through my thoughts. "You gonna sit there all night or are we doing this?"
"Let's go," I said, swinging my leg over the bike. "Time to pay our old friend a visit."
As we approached the dark house, adrenaline hit my bloodstream hard. We looked in all the windows, but the place still looked dead. The pink curtains were still gone. The girl's nightlight still wasn't on. The driveway was still empty. No car, no toys in the yard, no shoes by the door.
The house had been cleaned out. Exactly as it had been the last time I came here.
They were gone.
"Brings back memories, huh?" Cam stretched and his neck cracked with the movement. "You used to be so fucking obsessed with this place."
"Couldn’t help it. Just mad that I didn’t recognize who she was sooner. I guess I still am obsessed, as you so politely put it."
He chuckled, but I caught the concern behind his teasing as we walked back to the bikes and sat on the sidewalk. "Seriously though, you good? This shit's got you wound tighter than usual. Or maybe it’s not that little girl, and Janine was here after they moved and now she’s gone too."
"That’s stupid. Ugh. I’m fine. I'm fine," I snapped, then softened my tone. "Just... something's off. I can feel it."
“I trust your instincts, Lakey. Shit-stain Skeeter gave us the wrong address again. Maybe if we wait a bit, someone will come by."
Hours crawled by, the monotony of surveillance settling in.
Cam had asked three times why we weren't going up and checking the house.
The truth was, I didn't know why. I wasn't used to feeling the intensity of emotions running through me, rampant, unchecked.
I desperately wanted to know. To see her.
To save her. But I couldn't force my legs to move my body any closer.
Because what if she was inside? Dead. Cold.
On a table with tubes in her arms and a mask on her face and a scalpel poised above her stomach, the way Lydia had been.
What if Janine had done to her what they'd done to us?
What if the pink curtains and the juice boxes and the waving in the dark had all been a performance, a set piece in a play I'd been watching from the wrong side of the glass?
I couldn't go in there and find out. Not without knowing that I could survive the answer.
Eventually, Cam just stopped asking, opting to wait in silence while I tried to figure my shit out and shove those feelings back in the box.
My eyes burned from staring at the lifeless house, willing something to happen. My fingers drummed an impatient rhythm on the bike's frame. The fucking sun was rising and nothing was happening.
"Fuck," frustration boiled over. "What if we missed something? What if—"
Cam's hand covered mine, stilling my restless tapping. "Easy, killer. We've got all day if we need it."
I bit back a snarl, torn between appreciating his steadiness and wanting to claw something apart. The house just sat silent before us, a silent taunt, holding its secrets close.
I couldn't take it anymore and stood, bending down to touch my toes. The stillness, the waiting was driving me insane. I swung my leg over the bike, my movements sharp and jerky.
"I'm out.” I was heated. Having the one place where I found peace, empty like last time, even holding the promise Skeeter gave us that she was here…
it fucked with my head. I can't deal with it.
Don't wanna know what the fuck happened.
What if she was dead inside? The question rolled over and over in my mind.
No. I need to leave, to go, run, kill, dance.
Something. "Need to blow off some fucking steam before I lose it. "
Cam's eyebrows shot up, but he didn't try to stop me. Smart man. "Where you heading, doll?" he asked, his tone casual but his eyes intense.
I revved the engine, enjoying the roar as she came to life, Cam's starting up beside me. "Somewhere I can actually do something useful. This stakeout bullshit is getting us nowhere."
We tore through the streets, the wind tangling up my hair into knots. My mind raced faster than the bike, plans forming and dissolving. By the time we reached our apartment, I was vibrating with pent-up energy.
I stormed inside, barely registering Cam's presence behind me. My fingers flew as I stripped off my gear, replacing it with a slinky outfit that left little to the imagination.
"The fuck are you doing?" Cam said from behind me. His hands came to grip my hips as he tried to force me to face him. I stomped on his foot, earning a ‘what the fuck, Lakey’. It worked though; he stopped trying to get me to turn around.
I smirked, applying a coat of blood-red lipstick. "Going to work, baby. It's Saturday. All-day drink specials. Time to make some real money."
"It's fucking nine a.m., Lakey, we should get some sleep. I think we slept for a grand total of two hours before you sent us on a wild goose chase. I am fucking grumpy and this is stupid."
"If I don't, I will kill someone Cam," I sauntered past him. "Don't wait up. I plan on spending the day there."
His hand shot upwards, gripping my arms. Not enough to hurt, never enough to hurt me, but a clear warning. "Be careful. I’ll follow behind you.”
I turned, pressing a quick, fierce kiss to his lips. "Always am, but the day's young, and mama's got steam to blow and cash to make. Lots of lonely, sweaty fucks gonna be eager to pay today."
The neon sign blazed against the midday sky, a beacon for the depraved and desperate.
I pushed through the doors, the bass already thrumming through my bones.
Fuck, it was packed. Slick bodies sat, watching dancers, the red light making them look even more perverted than they would normally.
All were chasing their vices before the sun had even set.
Sick fucks.
I made my way backstage, trying to let go of my feelings.
Shoving my shit into a locker, I sighed and rolled my shoulders before making my way to the stage.
As I stepped onto the platform, the world fell away.
Gone was the frustrated, twitchy Lakey from the stakeout.
In her place stood a goddess of chaos, ready to feast on the desires of mere mortals.
The spotlight hit me and my body became the music. Every twist and turn a promise of ecstasy and ruin. I caught sight of Cam in the crowd, his dark eyes burning into me. When he watched, it was a show just for him. The rest of them faded away and he became my center.
I blew him a kiss. The possessive snarl that crossed his face sent heat straight between my legs.
Cam's gaze never wavered. I could feel it, even as I teased and tempted the other patrons.
He was my anchor, the only one who truly understood the darkness that lived inside me and why I needed to be here.
He hated that I danced, but knew I needed the release.
The dopamine. The rush of endorphins as money rained down on me.
He did absolutely everything humanly possible to make me the happiest girl alive and hadn't yet clued in that while I may want the stimulation from all this shit, he was the only thing I truly needed.