31. Chapter Thirty-One Cam #3
My jaw locked. Every muscle in my body went tight at the same time, the way it did right before a fight, right before a kill.
Because I'd been right. I'd been right and I'd told Lakey and she'd laughed and now Rose was sitting in front of us with tears running down her face describing exactly what I was afraid of.
"Hey, it's okay," I said, and the softness in my own voice surprised me. "We'll figure this out, alright?"
Yeah, what if it is a fucking bomb. Take that, Lakey. Doesn't sound so stupid now, does it?
Rose nodded, sniffling, and I caught Lakey's eye.
Didn't need words. Our little vacation from reality was over.
Whatever was going on inside Rose's skull, we had to get to the bottom of it.
And fast. Because if it was what I thought it was, if Chimera had put something in there, something timed, something triggered, then every day we sat around playing house was another day closer to the clock running out.
And if it blew, she'd take us down with her, and I wouldn't let that happen.
Couldn't let that happen. Not because I didn't care about Rose but because I cared about Lakey more.
I'd always care about Lakey more. That wasn't cruelty. That was math.
"Alright, let's take a look at that neck of yours, Rose."
She hesitated, looking at Lakey. Lakey gave her a small nod. Rose turned and pulled her hair aside, exposing the back of her neck.
I leaned in close. Studied the skin inch by inch. Nothing. No scars, no redness, no raised tissue, no visible signs of entry or implant. The skin was smooth, unmarked, same pale shade as the rest of her. But my gut was twisting and my gut had kept me alive longer than my brain ever had.
"Well, kid, I don't see anything weird," I said, keeping my voice easy. "Could be something they had you on, working its way out of your system. Or I dunno, something else. Shit's a bitch like that."
Rose's shoulders dropped. "So... you think I'm okay?"
I breathed out through my nose. Fought the urge to say what I actually thought, which was that no, I didn't think she was okay, and no, I didn't know what was wrong with her, and no, I didn't have a plan for how to fix it, and the fact that I couldn't see anything wrong made it worse, not better, because it meant whatever they'd put in there was deep.
"Yeah, you're okay. We've got your back, remember?"
She gave me a small smile. Then she headed to bed, pausing in the doorway to look back at us one more time before disappearing down the hall.
Lakey's jaw was set. She was thinking hard. I could see it in the way she sat, perfectly still, her fingers curled into the couch cushion. She was running the same scenarios I was, and she was arriving at the same conclusions, and she hated it.
I flopped back onto the couch, pulled her against me. "So, about the car. I want a new one. Figured we could go out and jack a better one. Maybe one that doesn't sputter like it's in end-stage cancer whenever I turn it on."
Her body tensed. "Yeah. Maybe. I dunno, Cam, shouldn't we figure out what's going on with her head?"
"We should turn in," I said, because I didn't want to have that discussion again. Not tonight. Not when we didn't have answers and going in circles would just wind us both up until one of us said something we'd regret. "Big day of car-watching tomorrow."
Lakey grunted. But she didn't push it. "Yeah. Okay."
We headed to the bedroom. Rose was already curled up on her new makeshift bed in the corner, the blankets pulled up to her chin.
We'd moved her out of the living room since it was always busy in there, always one of us up at weird hours, checking windows, raiding the fridge, sharpening things that didn't need sharpening.
At least in here she got some privacy. Sort of.
The downside was obvious. No time alone.
My cock had been aching for days with the need to be inside Lakey and every night we'd climb into bed and she'd press against me and I could feel every inch of her body through whatever she was wearing and it was driving me out of my fucking mind.
I'd palm her hip and she'd push back into me and then Rose would shift on her mattress or make a sound in her sleep and we'd both freeze, and I swear to God if this went on much longer I was going to lose it.
"Oh, babe?" Lakey's voice was quiet. "I think we should go shop for Rose. She probably would like some clothes that aren't mine."
I thought about it. About the fact that Rose had been wearing Lakey's stuff for almost two weeks, that Lakey's leggings were too short on her, that she kept pulling at the waistband because Lakey's hips were narrower than hers.
Small shit. The kind of shit I wouldn't have noticed a month ago.
The kind of shit I noticed now because apparently I was turning into someone who paid attention to whether a girl had clothes that fit.
"Yeah. That's a good call."
"You'd be a good dad, Cam. Always filling in the spots that I miss."
Pain seized in my chest. Not the twinge, because she'd said dad and not parent and the word sat between us heavy and loaded and we both knew she wasn't talking about Rose.
"And vice versa, baby doll."
As we climbed into bed, Lakey's hand found mine under the covers.
We lay there in the dark, not speaking, her fingers laced through mine.
She was trembling, just barely. Not cold.
Not scared. Just wound so tight that her body couldn't hold it all in.
She was thinking about the same things I was.
Rose. The car outside. The burning. Lillianna.
The fact that we were supposed to be killers, supposed to be monsters, and here we were lying in bed worried about buying someone clothes and whether or not there was a bomb in a girl's head.
"Cam?" Her whisper came through the dark.
"Yeah, babe?"
"We're in deep shit, aren't we?"
I laughed. "When aren't we?"
She shifted closer, her head on my chest. Her heartbeat was fast and steady against my ribs. It grounded me the way it always did. Reminded me why we did all this crazy shit. Why we killed. Why we ran. Why we kept going when any sane person would've put a bullet in their own head years ago.
"Whatever comes," I said, "we face it together. You, me, and the kid."
Her grip tightened on my hand. It wasn't often my girl needed me to be her backbone, but tonight was one of the few.
And I'd hold her up for as long as she needed.
I'd cradle her heart in my hands until she was ready to take it back and lock it into the cage she'd built around it.
I didn't say anything else. Just kissed the top of her head and listened to her breathing slow down, her body going heavy against mine, her fingers finally loosening their grip.
I didn't sleep.
I lay there in the dark, listening to Rose twitch and murmur on her mattress, listening to Lakey breathe, and I ran the numbers.
The car outside. The burning. The dreams that weren't dreams. The fact that Rose picked up hotwiring a car in fifteen tries when it had taken me thirty and Lakey forty.
The fact that Chimera didn't let people go.
They didn't escape. They were released. And if Rose had been released, that meant she was still serving a purpose.
I just didn't know what it was yet.
After Lakey was asleep, I slipped out of bed, careful not to jostle her, careful to step over Rose's mattress. Walked barefoot to the window, pressed my back to the wall, angled my head to see through the gap.
There it was. That car. Same spot. Patient. Waiting.
My lips pulled back.
Whoever was watching us had no idea what they were in for.
Game on, fuckers.