35. Chapter Thirty-Five Cam
Chapter Thirty-Five: Cam
The hot water stung as it hit my skin, washing away the blood and grime. Lakey's hands traced my scars, her fingers following the raised lines across my ribs, down my spine, over the old burn mark on my hip that neither of us talked about.
It had taken a little over an hour and a half to haul Christian to the spot where we kept the beater and then drive to the cliffs.
I'd had to knock him out again once we got there so I could carry him fireman-style up to the edge. And then of course Lakes wanted to toy with him. She wore her mask from the car all the way up the hill, the LED’s beautiful in the dark.
She looked inhuman. Angelic. When she slid her knife into his gut, she did it slow, watching his face the whole time.
I stood behind her and watched hers. She always got this look when she killed.
Not excitement, not rage. Peace. The noise in her head went quiet and the only thing left was the blade and the body and the silence that followed.
She needed that.
The hot water ran over us, steam filling the cramped bathroom. I was tired. My bones hurt, my muscles ached, my brain was screaming at me for sleep. If I could, I'd have sunk onto the shower floor and passed out, but we had a guest waiting and questions to ask.
Lakey's hands slid down my chest, her nails dragging through the hair below my navel, and my cock twitched despite the exhaustion.
We hadn't fucked in days. Rose sleeping in our room had turned every night into an exercise in frustration, and now here we were, alone, hot water, her body pressed against mine, her wet skin sliding against my back.
She felt me harden and pressed closer, her hand wrapping around my cock, stroking slow. "We don't have time," I said, but my voice came out rough and my hips pushed into her grip.
"Then be quick." She bit the back of my shoulder and squeezed harder.
I turned, lifted her by the backs of her thighs, and pinned her against the tile.
She was so small against me, her legs wrapping around my waist, her heels digging into my ass, pulling me closer.
The water ran between us, down her chest, over her nipples, pooling in the space where our hips met.
I lined myself up and pushed into her in one stroke, burying myself to the hilt, and she gasped, her head tipping back against the wall, her fingers digging into my shoulders hard enough to leave marks I'd feel for days.
"Fuck, Cam." Her voice was wrecked already. Raw from the kill, from the adrenaline, from the hours of holding it together while Sarah turned our world inside out.
I pulled out slow, watching her face, the way her mouth opened, the way her brows pulled together when I hit that spot inside her that made her legs shake.
Then I drove back in hard, slamming her against the tile, and her whole body jolted.
I rolled my hips, grinding against her clit with every thrust, and she shuddered, her back arching off the wall.
"You feel so fucking good," I growled, burying my face in her neck.
I tasted water and salt and the faint copper of blood we hadn't fully washed off yet.
She clenched around me, tight and hot, her inner walls gripping me so hard I groaned against her skin.
I set a rhythm, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, each thrust pushing her higher up the wall, the wet slap of our skin echoing off the tiles.
She pulled my hair, yanking my head back so she could see my face. "Harder."
I gave her harder. Slammed into her until the tile cracked behind her back and she was making those sounds, those broken little moans that she only made when she was close, and I could feel her starting to shake, her thighs trembling against my sides, her pussy fluttering around my cock.
"Come for me, baby," I said, and she did.
Her whole body locked up, her back bowing off the wall, her nails raking down my chest hard enough to draw blood, and she clamped down on me so tight it bordered on pain.
The sound she made was half scream, half sob, raw and ragged, and it ripped through me, pulling my own orgasm out of me with a force that buckled my knees.
I spilled into her with a groan that echoed off the bathroom walls, my hips jerking, riding out every last pulse inside her.
We stayed like that for a minute, breathing hard, the water turning lukewarm against my back. Her forehead rested against mine, her eyes closed, her body limp in my arms. I held her up because that's what I did. That's what I'd always do.
"We needed that," she whispered.
"Yeah. We did."
I set her down carefully, held her steady until her legs stopped shaking. We washed each other off in the cooling water, quick and efficient, the post-sex tenderness giving way to the reality that Sarah was sitting in our living room waiting.
I stepped out first, wrapping a towel around my waist. Lakey followed, her wet hair clinging to her shoulders. We dressed quickly in sweats and shirts, both too wrecked for anything else.
As we headed back to the living room, I caught Lakey's eye. The dark circles under hers were worse now. We looked rough, but her lips quirked up in that little smirk I loved, the one that said we made it through another shit show, babe.
The living room was dim, early morning light barely filtering through the newly boarded-up windows. Sarah and Rose sat on the couch, sipping tea. All the blood had been cleaned and the room reeked of bleach.
"Well, isn't this nice," Lakey said, dropping onto the armchair. "Nice handiwork with the windows. Very post-apocalyptic chic."
Sarah rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well, it's all we could find. I see your charm hasn't improved with age."
Lakey grinned. "Aw, you know you missed me, Sarah."
She perched on the arm of my chair, her fingers playing with my hair. I leaned into her touch, letting some of the tension drain. We were safe. For now. But how long would that last?
Rose cleared her throat, gesturing to a plate of sandwiches on the coffee table. "I made these for you both. Figured you'd be hungry after... well, you know."
"Fuck yes," I said, grabbing a sandwich and taking a massive bite. Ham and cheese had never tasted so goddamn heavenly. I nudged Lakey. "Babe, you gotta try these. Rose, you're a fucking angel."
Lakey snagged her own, practically inhaling it. Between bites, she mumbled, "This is amazing, Rose. Thank you."
I watched her eat and took a moment to enjoy the silence just existing.
Not running or fighting or killing. That's why when Rose came, we'd taken the time to play house.
We were so used to living in our own chaos that there wasn't room for much else, but this felt...
normal. Which was its own kind of terrifying.
Now that I'd had a taste, I craved more.
More peace, more fun, more time to just exist outside the bloodlust that always seemed to follow me.
Sarah set down her mug, her expression shifting. "Now that you're both settled, I think it's time I filled you in on what's been happening."
I swallowed my last bite, leaning forward. "Yeah, about that. How the hell did you get away from Chimera? From what we pieced together, they don't let go easily."
Sarah's eyes hardened. "It wasn't easy. They had me for years, running foster homes, placing kids.
You weren't the only ones who went through extensive testing.
No, I can't answer where you first came from.
I just don't know. They never told me. Just handed you both to me and saw to it I placed you wherever they told me to.
I wear the scars of my own. It took years to build up their trust in me.
It started simply. Just monitor kids in and out.
Then they piled more on. Then the testing started, and it was too late to back out. They knew everything about me."
"Sounds like a real fucking picnic," Lakey muttered.
Sarah nodded. "Oh, it was, but they underestimated me. I played along, let them think they were succeeding. All the while, I was watching, learning, planning."
Grudging respect. She had always been tough, but this was next level.
"One night, during a power outage, I made my move," Sarah continued. "They'd moved me into this 'housing unit,' which was really just a way to monitor us. I'd memorized the guard rotations, hence how I knew Christian. I knew exactly where the blind spots in their security were."
"Damn," I said. "How many did you have to kill?"
Sarah's eyes met mine. "I had help, but three. It wasn't pretty, but it was necessary."
I nodded. Sometimes you did what you had to do to survive. No judgment from people who enjoyed tasting blood on their tongues.
"After that, it was staying off the grid, gathering resources, tracking down allies. I had a friend in a morgue fake my death," Sarah said. "It took months of careful planning, but here I am."
Lakey leaned forward. "And how exactly did you find us? We're not exactly listed in the phone book."
I tensed, waiting. It was the question that had been nagging at me since she showed up.
Her eyes flickered between us. "That's where Kyle comes in," she said, her voice dropping a notch.
My hackles went up. "Kyle? Who the fuck is Kyle?"
Sarah took a breath. "Kyle was... is... a Chimera operative. One of their best, actually."
Lakey stiffened beside me, her hand moving towards her knife. I placed my hand on her arm. Wait.
"Continue," I said, keeping my voice neutral despite every alarm in my head going off at once.
Sarah nodded. "He underwent intense conditioning, more than most. They twisted him into their perfect weapon.
Ruthless, efficient, unquestioning. Similar to you, actually.
" She pointed at me. "Same training techniques, though yours was tamer compared to his.
At least, according to what we have on file. "
"Sounds like a real charmer," Lakey snorted.