31. Chapter Thirty-One Cam #2
She glanced between us, nervous, then landed on Lakey. "And sometimes there's this burning sensation at the back of my neck. Like... I don't know how to explain it." She shrugged, took another sip. "I dunno, maybe it's just paranoia or PTSD rearing its ugly head."
Lakey and I locked eyes over Rose's head. Quick. Pointed. The kind of look that said we'd be talking about this later, privately, without Rose in the room.
I reached for my grilled cheese, took a big bite, swallowed. Kept my voice flat. Neutral. "It's probably just that. Trauma can do strange things to the mind, you know?"
Lakey nodded. "You're just adjusting to everything that's happened, that's all. Give it time, you'll be fine." Her voice was steady, gentle. Her eyes never left mine.
I stood, pushing my chair back hard enough that it scraped against the floor.
Rose jumped. I pretended not to notice. Dreams were one thing.
Burning was another. Burning at the back of the neck, right where the brainstem met the spine, right where someone who wanted to implant something would go if they wanted it close to the central nervous system.
I'd read about that shit. I'd heard stories from people who'd been inside Chimera's facilities, the few who got out, and none of those stories ended with "and then I was fine. "
Trauma could manifest in dreams. Sure. But it could also be something they put inside her.
Something timed. Something activated. And Lakey hadn't even thought to mention the dreams to me, which meant she'd been sitting on this, probably telling herself it was nothing, probably not wanting to rock our little domestic boat.
How the fuck am I supposed to protect the two people I care about when I don't even know what's happening inside their heads?
"Right, well. I think it's about time we get started on those lessons. Lakes, let's go grab the kit. Rose, if you'd be so kind as to clear the table, we can have the rest for leftovers."
"Cam?" Rose said, confusion clear in her voice as she watched Lakey stand and follow me down the hall.
I waited until we were out of earshot, our bedroom door shut behind us. Then I turned on Lakey.
"What the hell is going on?" I kept my voice low, but I could hear the edge in it. "Why didn't you tell me those dreams were still happening?"
"The fuck, Cam." She crossed her arms, chin up, ready for a fight.
"I didn't know. What the fuck do you want from me?
How am I supposed to mind read? You've been so hot and cold about her, I didn't think you'd wanna know about some petty-ass dreams she's having.
" She gave me a hard look. "Besides, what does it matter? They're just dreams."
"They might not be, that's the thing. They could be shit she's gone through. But I'm more concerned that her head is burning. I know there are certain compounds that could cause that. Lakey, it could be dangerous."
She laughed. Actually laughed. "Like a bomb in her head, Cam? Really? I think you're watching too many movies."
I ran a hand through my hair, pacing the small space between the bed and the wall.
Two steps one way, two steps back. "Fine.
You're right. I'm being paranoid." I said it through my teeth, which probably undermined the concession.
"I've just seen someone outside the building for the last few days and it's tripping me out. "
Her smirk vanished. Gone. Just like that. "Yeah, and you wanted to get pissed at me for not being honest about something I didn't know about? You didn't tell me we're being stalked? What the actual hell."
"I didn't tell you because I thought it was nothing. But now..."
"Now what? You think they know about Rose?" The color left her face. "Are they coming for us?"
I shook my head. "I don't know, Lakes. But we need to be careful, okay? Both of us."
She held my gaze for a beat, jaw tight, hands still crossed, and I could see her doing the math. Running the scenarios. Weighing how pissed she was at me against how scared she was about what I'd just told her. Lakey was a lot of things, but she was never slow on the uptake.
She nodded once. Turned on her heel and walked back into the main room. Left me standing there in our bedroom, staring at the wall, listening to Rose humming in the kitchen while she cleared the dishes.
Get it together, Axley.
I grabbed the kit from under the bed and headed out.
We decided to let her try on the piece I stole a while ago.
The girls followed me out to the abandoned gas station where I was stashing it.
The walk over was quiet, Rose between us, Lakey scanning left and I scanning right.
Same formation we used when we were out together.
Rose didn't know she was being flanked. Didn't need to.
We sat inside the car, and I popped boards open under the dash, gesturing for Rose to come closer.
"Alright, kiddo. Pay attention. This might save your ass one day."
Rose leaned in, her eyes wide. Lakey perched on a nearby bench, swinging her legs like a kid at a carnival, which was very on-brand for someone who'd been teaching hand-to-hand combat twenty minutes ago.
"First thing's first," I said, reaching under the dash. "You gotta expose the ignition wires. Like this."
I yanked, and a tangle of colorful wires spilled out. Rose's brow furrowed.
"Now, the tricky part. You gotta find the right wires to spark. Come on, you figure it out."
Rose reached in, her fingers fumbling with the wires. She tangled herself up almost immediately, pulling the wrong ones, crossing them, getting her thumb stuck in a loop. She looked more like she was trying to knit a sweater than hotwire a car.
"Easy there, butterfingers," I said, guiding her hands. "Red to yellow, then touch the brown. Like this."
The engine sputtered to life and Rose's face lit up like a damn Christmas tree.
"Holy shit!" she yelled. "I did it!"
Lakey's laughter rang out as she rushed over to clap Rose on the back. "Look at you, little Rose. A regular criminal mastermind in the making."
"Good. Again." I made her do it over and over.
Kill the engine, reconnect, strip, spark.
Kill the engine, reconnect, strip, spark.
By the eighth time, her fingers were sure.
By the twelfth, she barely had to look. By the fifteenth, she could've done it blindfolded, and I told her so, and the smile she gave me was so big and so genuine that I had to look away and pretend I was checking the rearview.
As we headed back to the apartment, Rose was a different person. She was chattering away, hands flying everywhere as she recounted her triumph over and over, replaying it from different angles.
"Did you see how fast I got it started? I mean, after the whole wire-spaghetti situation."
I ruffled her hair. "Yeah, yeah, don't get cocky, kid. You've still got a lot to learn."
But she'd gotten the hang of it fast. Much faster than I expected.
Faster than Lakey had, though I'd never tell Lakes that.
A natural. And something about that nagged at me, the same way the car outside nagged at me, the same way the burning in her neck nagged at me.
Normal people didn't pick up skills that fast. People who'd been engineered, trained, altered, people who'd had their neural pathways fucked with by a shadowy organization that treated humans like lab rats... those people learned fast.
I added it to the list of shit I was keeping track of that I couldn't do anything about yet.
The sun had dipped below the horizon, and we were in full-on relax mode.
I sprawled on the couch, one arm draped over Lakey's shoulders.
She was curled against me, running her fingers over my chest and into the stubble growing across my chin, then trailing them downward again.
Slow. Deliberate. Her nails scratching lightly through the hair below my navel before dragging back up.
I loved the way it felt over my skin, goosebumps rising in the wake of her fingers, my cock already half-hard and thickening every time she dipped lower.
"So, what's next, my little psycho?" I said, my hands tangling in her hair. "Time to raise some hell?"
Her blue eyes met mine. Mischief. Hesitation. Both at once, which was very Lakey. "Can't we just... enjoy this for a bit longer? It's nice, playing house."
I snorted. "Playing house? Christ, Lakey, we're not exactly the Brundy Bunch."
"No shit, Sherlock. Also, I don't think that's their name. Brundy sounds fucking weird," she said, rolling her eyes. "But it's... different. Peaceful."
Something restless crawled under my skin. "Peace is overrated, babe. We've got work to do."
Her fingers stilled on my chest. She tilted her head up, studying me, those eyes cutting through whatever face I was trying to put on. She could always do that. Could always see right through whatever I was selling. It was infuriating and it was the reason I'd never be able to live without her.
Before she could say whatever she was about to say, Rose shuffled into the room. She looked rough. Pale. Her hands were shaking and she kept touching the back of her neck, pressing her palm against it and then pulling away.
"Hey, um... can I talk to you guys?" Her voice was barely there.
I sat up. "Shoot, kid. What's eating you?"
Rose sat on the edge of the armchair, wringing her hands. She kept opening her mouth and closing it, starting sentences and abandoning them, and I waited because pushing her would make it worse. She'd talk when she was ready. Lakey had taught me that.
"It's like... it's burning. Right here." She touched the base of her skull. "I can feel it even when I'm awake. It's getting worse. It's really bad right now and I... I feel like there's ants crawling up and down my spine."
Lakey leaned forward. "What do you mean, burning?"
Rose's eyes filled. "Like there's something inside, trying to get out. I'm scared. What if they did something to me?"