29. Chapter Twenty-Nine Cam #2
I locked eyes with Lakey as she finished her song. Rose was out cold, curled up at her feet on the floor. The silence hung thick, heavy with all the shit we weren't saying.
"Well, ain't this just a Hallmark moment," I smirked. "Should we tuck her in and leave milk and cookies?"
Lakey's lips quirked, that smirk that always did something to my insides. "Jealous, baby? Don't worry, I've still got plenty of lullabies for you."
I snorted, but there was an edge to it. "Yeah, 'cause that's what gets me hot. Nursery rhymes and charity cases."
"She's not a charity case," Lakey said, her voice dropping. "She's... an investment."
"In what? A one-way ticket to Fuckedville?" I ran a hand through my hair, frustration building. "This complicates things, Lakes. Big time. I was all good with this until..." I gestured wildly.
She stood, careful not to disturb Rose, and moved over to me. Her fingers traced my jaw, deceptively gentle. "Since when do you shy away from complications, Cam? I thought you liked it messy."
I caught her wrist, squeezing just shy of too hard.
"Messy's one thing. This? This can fucking destroy everything we're doing.
If she does something, could be anything, to draw attention to us, we're fucked.
Do you understand the implications of her screaming at all hours of the night?
What would happen if the fucking cops came and saw us with her?
What the hell would they think? Huh? What about that, Lakey. "
We stared at each other, a silent battle of wills. There was steel in her gaze, the brutal dedication that made her so fucking deadly. And deep in my twisted soul, there was no doubt I'd follow her straight into the Grim Reaper's arms if she asked.
"Fine," I said, releasing her. "But when this blows up in our faces, and it will, don't say I didn't warn you."
Lakey's smile was all teeth. "Wouldn't dream of it. Now... how's about that punishment?"
I shook my head, but I was already hardening. "You're a goddamn sadist, you know that?"
"And you love it," she said, leading me back to our room. "Every fucking second."
She shut the door quietly and pushed me slowly backwards until I hit our bed. I fell back, sprawled out as she climbed on top of me.
She snaked a hand down my boxers, her warm breath tickling my cock through the thin fabric.
"Take it easy," I warned her. "I don't wanna..."
But then she took off my boxers, tossing them to the side with a soft laugh. My cock sprung free, slapping against me as it bounced. She leaned down and took me in her mouth, and whatever objection I'd been forming dissolved into nothing.
Her tongue worked along my shaft, tracing patterns that made my hips buck up off the bed.
She deep-throated me, taking as much of my length as she could, her throat opening around me while her hand gripped the base.
I clenched my fists in the sheets above my head, trying to resist pushing her head further down. It felt too good, and I wanted more.
Her hair spilled around us, tickling my skin as she moved up and down.
She pulled back slowly, licking her lips before straddling me so that our hips aligned.
Pulling my t-shirt up, she positioned herself above my cock.
Without a word, just a look that said everything, she guided me inside her with practiced ease until I bottomed out.
I groaned as she started riding me in long, smooth strokes that sent shocks through every nerve in my body.
The sound of flesh against flesh filled the room, accompanied by soft grunts as Lakey picked up speed. Her nails dug into my shoulders, drawing blood. Our bodies communicated what our mouths couldn't say: this was dangerous, but we needed each other's chaos to survive this cruel world.
Her tits swayed in front of me, and when she leaned forward offering a nipple, I took it greedily, sucking hard as she rode me faster, the mattress creaking in protest beneath us.
Her breath hitched, and she cried out as her orgasm washed over her, her pussy clenching around my cock so tight my vision blurred.
"Fuck," I moaned as I came inside her, gripping her hips. "I was gonna say I don't wanna come fast. Why the fuck would you ride me like a goddamn devil?"
Lakey collapsed on top of me, wrapping her delicate frame around mine. "Because I can." She giggled.
I lay there, allowing the tension to bleed from my body, slowly realizing how exhausted I was before I pulled the blankets over us and closed my eyes. "Night, baby girl."
Her breath evened out, her tousled hair everywhere, covering half her face, leaving only one eye open and staring at me.
"I know you're awake," she mumbled sleepily yet managed to sound coherent enough.
"I wasn't even thinking about you," I lied, probably badly judging by the way she laughed.
"Yeah right, I can feel your heartbeat hammering out of your chest, liar. I'm gonna sleep now, k?" She giggled again before closing her eyes, leaving me alone with my thoughts as her soft breathing pulled me into a dreamless slumber.
But before I went under, one thought kept circling. Rose had talked. She'd opened up. And what she'd described, the tests, the trials, the systematic breaking of human beings, it was the same thing that had been done to us. We just couldn't remember most of it.
Rose could. Rose remembered everything.
She remembered the rooms without light. The doctors with their clipboards. The drugs that erased your sense of self. She remembered what we'd been designed to forget, and that made her the most important person we'd ever met.
It also made her a target. If Chimera knew she was alive, knew she was with us, knew she could talk, they'd come for her. For us. For everything we'd built. Our apartment, our system, our life, all of it would become collateral damage in whatever cleanup operation they'd deploy.
Which meant we had a choice. We could dump Rose at a hospital, wipe our hands clean, and go back to hunting Chimera on our own terms. Safer. Simpler. Smarter.
Or we could keep her. Protect her. Use what she knew to fill in the gaps in our own shattered memories and build a case so thorough that when we finally found Chimera's head, we'd know exactly where to cut.
I already knew which option Lakey would choose. She'd chosen it the second she saw Rose tied to that chair in the basement.
And I'd already chosen to follow her. Because that's what I did. That's what I'd always done. That's what I'd always do.
Rose was either the most valuable asset we'd ever stumbled into, or the most dangerous liability we'd ever brought into our home.
Probably both.
Definitely both.