30. Chapter Thirty Lakey
Chapter Thirty: Lakey
The girl needed some fresh air, poor thing. Stuck in this dingy apartment for days, nothing but weird vibes and shadows and Cam pacing the hallway at three in the morning because he heard a car door. I couldn't stand it anymore. And if I was bored, Rose was probably crawling out of her skin.
She didn't complain. That was the thing about Rose.
She didn't complain about anything. Not the lumpy couch, not the questionable food, not the fact that neither of us had thought to buy her more than two outfits.
She just sat there, knees tucked up, watching us with those big eyes.
It made me want to punch a wall because nobody should be that used to getting nothing.
"Come on, Cam." I batted my eyelashes at him, full performance mode. "We gotta take Rose out. Let her see the sun before she withers away in here."
His eyes squinted, those dark eyes narrowing.. "It's not safe."
I sidled up to him, ran a finger all the way down his chest, cupped his cock for a hot second, then let go. "Aw, don't be such a buzzkill. We'll be careful. In and out, quick as you please." I winked. "I promise to make it worth your while later."
His resolve was cracking. His lips twitched, fighting a smirk.
"Please?" I breathed, standing on tiptoe to nip at his earlobe. "For me?"
Cam groaned, shoulders sagging. "Fine. But we stay alert, got it? First sign of trouble and we're out."
I squealed, throwing my arms around his neck. "You're the best, you know that?"
As I bounced over to Rose, I caught sight of his face.
The playfulness had dropped clean off. That watchfulness he got when he couldn't pin something down had taken over, the way his body shifted into scan mode without him even thinking about it.
He liked Rose enough. Was curious about her at least. But he was still chewing on the whole situation, still running it through whatever filter he used to decide if something was a threat or just strange.
It should have bothered me, I guess. All that paranoia. But honestly? It just made me feel safe. Protected. Nothing could touch us as long as we had each other's backs. Same as the homes. Same as always.
I grabbed Rose's hand, gave it a gentle squeeze. "Ready for an adventure?"
Her face changed. Not a big reaction, not some dramatic transformation. Just this tiny shift around her mouth and her eyes, this loosening. She'd been holding herself so tight for so long that even a small release was obvious.
"Let's go," Cam said, ushering us towards the door.
As we stepped out into the grimy hallway, I bounced on my toes. A day in the sun with my favorite person and my almost second favorite in the world. Sure, Rose had only been here a week and a half, but she'd earned that spot faster than anyone else ever had. Spider had taken years. Rose took days.
What could possibly go wrong?
The city was a fucking mess, as usual. Trash piled up on street corners, the stench of piss and rot so thick you could chew it. But today, I didn't give a shit. Today was about Rose.
In the last few days, she'd opened up more and more.
She estimated she was probably around twenty or twenty-one.
Couldn't remember her birthday, but at least they taught her to read and write.
They'd done a ton of fucked-up things to her and the other girls with her until she was the only one left.
Kinda like my life, I guess. Only she remembered everything, and I didn't.
She had no explanation for that, but her scars told me her story was true.
I asked her about the little girl, and she said she had no idea.
She was kept mostly in the lab. Said one of the doctors was nice to her sometimes and gave her cake every now and then.
Of course, that would be before they cut pieces of her skin off and sewed it back on to see if she could tolerate the pain.
Or, as she put it, "to see if my pain tolerance had risen since the last time. "
I'd sat there listening to her say that with a straight face, no emotion behind it, and it took everything I had not to scream.
Not at her. For her. Because I knew what it was to describe the worst thing that ever happened to you in a flat, dead voice because the feelings had been beaten out of you so long ago they didn't exist anymore.
I'd done it a hundred times. Cam had done it.
And now Rose was doing it on our couch, picking at the peeling fabric on the armrest, and I wanted to burn Chimera to the ground with everyone still inside.
We piled into the shit-box Camry we'd kept after Skeets jacked it, the engine coughing to life like a grandpa with emphysema. I turned to Rose in the backseat, flashing her my biggest smile. "We're going somewhere special. You're gonna love it."
As we crawled through traffic, I kept up a steady stream of chatter, pointing out all the sights.
Not that there was much to see in this shithole.
But Rose's head kept swiveling between the windows, trying to take in both sides of the street at once, and her wonder turned even the graffiti-covered walls into something worth looking at.
"Look, Rose! See that building? Rumor has it, a serial killer used to live there. Fascinating, right?"
Cam shot me a look, struggling not to laugh. "She's literally bumpin' around with us. Why would she find that fascinating?"
I rolled my eyes at his jab and switched gears.
"Oh, and over there. That's where they film those cheesy soap operas. Maybe we'll spot a celebrity!"
Rose pressed her face against the window, drinking it all in.
She probably hadn't seen the sun in years, judging from how pale her skin was.
The thought sank into my gut and sat there.
At least we got out. We got to play in the sun at the homes.
Besides all the trauma, we still got to make mud pies every now and then.
Rose didn't get mud pies. Rose got scalpels and observation rooms and doctors who gave her cake before they sliced her open.
It made me feel kinda shitty, to be honest. I just chalked it up to indigestion from last night's questionable takeout. Easier than admitting the alternative.
Finally, we pulled up to our destination.
An abandoned amusement park on the outskirts of town.
Nature had started reclaiming it, weeds poking through cracked asphalt, vines crawling up rusted rides.
Abandoned places held a certain charm, and I was somewhat obsessed with them.
Cam had wanted to be a cop, while I wanted to explore all those abandoned cities dotted around the states.
The obsession started after some documentary talking about how people just up and left their homes if they couldn't sell, and it spiraled from there.
When we found this place, I was in heaven.
"Ta-da!" I sang out, throwing my arms wide. "Our own private playground!"
Rose's eyes were as big as saucers as she climbed out of the car.
She just stood there for a solid ten seconds, head tipped back, staring at the sky with her mouth slightly open.
Then she looked at the park, the rusted Ferris wheel against the clouds, the carousel with its chipped horses, the overgrown paths disappearing into weeds taller than me.
Which, granted, didn't take much at 5'1, but still.
She took a hesitant step forward. Then another.
I held my breath as she reached out to touch a nearby carousel horse.
Its paint was chipped and faded, the enamel cracked in spiderweb patterns from years of weather, but to Rose, it might as well have been made of gold.
She ran her fingers along its mane, slow, careful, the way you'd touch something you thought might disappear.
A warm breeze ruffled her hair. She tilted her face up to the sun, eyes closed.
And then, it happened.
Rose laughed.
Not a nervous giggle or a forced chuckle.
A real, full, honest-to-God laugh of pure joy.
We'd never heard it before. It came out a little raspy, rough around the edges, and I realized she probably hadn't used it in years.
Maybe ever. But it was there. It was real. And it filled that whole empty park.
Fuck.
Was this what it was? Caring about someone other than Cam? Because my chest was doing something strange and my throat was tight and my eyes were burning and if I cried right now in front of God and the rusty Tilt-A-Whirl I would never forgive myself.
I glanced at Cam. His arms were crossed, his jaw set, his whole body screaming I am not affected by this. But his throat moved. Just once. A hard swallow he probably thought I didn't catch.
I caught it.
We were in deep shit now. But watching Rose twirl in a patch of sunlight, her raspy laugh bouncing off the rusted rides and coming back to us in echoes, there was no walking away from her.
Not now. Probably not ever. And that was terrifying because the last time I'd gotten attached to someone who wasn't Cam, she'd disappeared from St. Agnes and gotten tortured to death.
Don't think about Lydia. Not right now.
A grin split my cheeks. "Look at you! You're a natural spinner," I called out, clapping my hands like some proud soccer mom.
It felt weird, being the cheerleader. The enthusiastic one.
The one who clapped and hollered and acted like she had a minivan and a juice box in her purse.
But it also felt right. We all needed someone making noise for us once in a while.
I was lucky enough to have my other half. She'd had no one.
"You enjoying the show, big guy?" I elbowed Cam, earning a grunt.
"It's... not terrible," he admitted.
"High praise from the king of understatement."
Rose stumbled over to us, cheeks flushed, out of breath. "Did you see? I was spinning so fast!" She grabbed my hands, pulling me towards the rusty Merry-Go-Round. "Come on, Lakey! Spin with me!"