22. Chapter Twenty-Two Lakey #3
As I started cleaning, my brain wouldn't stop replaying the conversation. Not the parts about Chimera. The parts about us. Designed. Genes carefully selected. Placed into a host. Born in a laboratory.
If that was true, then every vague memory I had of a mother was either fake or planted. Every fragment of childhood before Carmen's house, before the fork, before Cam, all of it was either a lie or a programmed response.
And if we were designed, then everything we'd done since, every kill, every impulse, every time my body craved violence the way other people craved food, was that us? Or was that them? Were we making choices or running code?
The thought made me want to vomit.
Cam's voice broke through. "You good?"
I looked up, catching his eye.
"I'm fine," I lied. "Just peachy."
Cam snorted. "Sure, and I'm fucking the tooth fairy."
I turned back to the cleaning. We'd gotten something. Not enough, but something. And his office promised to have more.
"Lakey," Cam said softly. "Talk to me."
I couldn't stop staring at the corpse. "We didn't get what we needed," I whispered, my voice smaller than I wanted it to be. "I fucked up."
His hand came to rest on my shoulder, then his arm went around my waist. "Hey," he said, his voice low. "Look at me."
I turned, meeting his eyes. For a moment, both our masks were off.
"We got enough," Cam said. "It’s a start. More than what we had. This fucker was just a bottom-feeder 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. Don’t forget to search the drawers."
I nodded, trying to shake off the weird funk I'd fallen into. Cam's hand slid down my arm, fingers finding mine. He pulled me toward 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 said. "Let's blow this banana stand before the neighbors get nosy."
I glanced at Cam. His shoulders were tense, his eyes scanning our surroundings as we exited the house, his body on high alert.
"You think anyone heard?" I asked.
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. My brain replayed the events of the night on a loop. The way Steve's face had changed when he recognized us. Not fear. Pride. Like he was looking at something he'd helped build. Killing him didn't bring me satisfaction.
Losing information did bring me regret. And those words he'd whispered, as if for only my ears to hear. I am not lost, for I belong. And those who stray, I shall find.
I recognized that shit.
Fuck.
Heading into our lobby, we opted to take the stairs.
Getting upstairs was quick work, taking two at a time until we hit our floor.
Cam unlocked the door, ushering me inside with a hand on my back.
As soon as it clicked shut behind us, my legs gave out.
I slumped against the wall, suddenly exhausted.
"Fuck," I breathed, running a hand through my hair. "That was... intense."
Cam stood over me. "You good?"
I nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah. Just coming down from it, I guess."
"Some come-down. 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 dropped that guy with one hit, his body moving from charm to violence without a single wasted motion. It was... yeah.
It was hot.
Cam must have caught something in my face, because he stepped closer, caging me against the wall with his arms.
"You a bit turned on right now, lil' psycho?" His voice was low against my ear.
Heat hit me between my legs. "Maybe," I said. "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, tasting violence and desire on his tongue. When we finally broke apart, both panting, my own darkness and his danced in his eyes. Our souls aligning.
"We're so fucked up," I whispered, half-laughing.
"Wouldn't have it any other way, sweetheart."
But as he pulled me toward the bedroom, one thought kept circling. The one I couldn't shake. The one that had been planted in a basement by a dying man and was now growing roots in the dark soil of my brain.
You were designed.
What if everything I thought I was, everything I thought I chose, was just programming? What if the violence, the love, the obsession with a little girl named Lillianna, none of it was mine?
What if I was exactly what they made me to be?
And what if I couldn't tell the difference?