37. Chapter Thirty-Seven Cam
Chapter Thirty-Seven: Cam
Lakey shoved clothes into her duffel bag, her movements sharp and jerky. She'd been flipping back and forth all week and it was getting hard to tell what she was thinking.
"Ugh fuck, I don’t like this," she muttered, not for the first time. "We shouldn't trust these people."
I zipped up my own bag and sighed. "We don't have much choice, babe. It's either go with them or wait for Chimera to find us. Besides, you're the one who said yes for the group, so why are you acting like it's such a horrible idea all of a sudden?"
Lakey's eyes flashed. "Maybe we should let them find us.
I'd love to get my hands on those fuckers.
" She threw my sweats at me, smacking me in the face.
"And just because I said yes doesn't mean I think it's a great idea.
You're supposed to be my North Star, pointing me in the right direction, so really, if this goes sideways, it's your fucking fault and you will not stand in my way, especially if I get to kill people.
Got it? Ugh. I hate not sleeping in my own damn bed. "
A grin tugged at my lips. God, I loved it when she got all fiery.
"As hot as that would be, we're out skilled.
For now, at least. Besides, you'll have Rose.
I think you just don't wanna leave our space, and that's fine, Lakes, but as much as I hate to admit it, they're right.
I can't protect you if we get swarmed or overrun.
" She hated when I talked about protecting her.
She was fully capable and I knew that, but it didn't take away from the fact that she was my girl, and it was my job to put myself between her and death wherever I could.
She huffed but didn't argue further. She saw the logic, even if she hated it.
She continue her frantic packing, while my mind drifted back to the shithole foster home where we first started lashing out.
The first time our "dad" laid hands on her, she went to sit in the corner of the yard and began methodically pulling the wings off flying ants.
She didn't cry, didn't scream. She took his beating and bore the blue and purple bruises for weeks.
She put her head down and took her rage out in a different way, honing skills that had been born into her heart of darkness.
I decided right then that one day, I'd take revenge for every bruise anyone ever laid on her body.
I also knew that she was meant to be mine.
"Earth to Cam," Lakey's voice snapped me back. "You good?"
I blinked, refocusing on her face. "Yeah, just thinking about the good old days."
Her lips quirked up. "Foster care or juvie?"
"Foster care. Remember how we used to sneak out at night?"
Lakey's smile turned wistful. "Yeah. Simpler times."
I snorted. "If by simpler you mean constantly dodging belt-wielding drunks, sure."
She shrugged. "At least the enemies were obvious back then."
I couldn't argue with that. These days, it was getting harder to tell friend from foe.
"We better get out there," I said, nodding towards the door. "Make sure our new friends aren't planning to screw us over."
Lakey nodded and hefted her bag. We headed out to the main room. Sarah and Kyle were by the door, geared up and ready. Rose stood off to the side, clutching a pathetically small backpack.
"Is that all you're bringing?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
Rose flushed. "It's all I have. Lakey gave me some clothes, but we never went shopping, remember?" She turned to Sarah. "Do you think... maybe we could get some more clothes for me at some point?"
Sarah's face softened. "Of course, sweetie. Once we're settled in, we'll take care of that. Cam, I'll set the GPS for you, just follow it. It's off the beaten path, but I think you'll find it up to your standards."
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Lakey caught my look and smirked.
"Alright, assholes," Kyle announced. "Let's move out."
As we filed out of the apartment, I locked the door behind us.
Somehow, I knew we'd never be back. And yet I wanted to make sure our little life stayed preserved inside.
It was pathetic, maybe, but I wasn't ready for the weird sense of loss that settled over me.
The realization that someday, someone else would occupy this space and overwrite all the memories we'd made in those walls.
The training sessions with Rose. The grilled cheese dinners.
Lakey braiding Rose's hair on the couch while I pretended to read Skeet's files but was really watching them.
Beaver's blood on the kitchen table. All of it. Gone.
The wind whipped through my hair as we tore down the desolate highway, Lakey riding by my side. The roar of our bikes drowned out everything but my own thoughts, which were racing faster than the scenery blurring past us.
I glanced in my side mirror, catching sight of Kyle's SUV following close behind. Sarah was in the passenger seat. In the back, I could just make out Rose's small form, her head resting against the window.
"You good?" I asked over the speaker to Lakes.
She gave me a thumbs up. "Never better, baby. Nothing like a ride to get the blood pumping!"
As we veered off onto a dirt road, memories of another frantic escape flooded my mind.
I was thirteen again, heart pounding as Lakey and I ran from our foster home.
The smell of smoke and gasoline still clung to our clothes as the house went up in flames.
Dearest mother had forgotten food on the stove, causing a rapidly spreading blaze, destroying everything and almost killing us in the process.
Sarah had been the one to take us out of their care, before placing us with our worst and last family.
I shook my head, forcing myself back to the present. The trees were getting thicker now, the road narrowing to little more than a path. After what felt like hours of twisting and turning through the wilderness, a clearing finally came into view.
And there it was.
The cabin looked like something out of a doomsday prepper's wet dream. High, sturdy walls of rough-hewn logs. Narrow, reinforced windows that were more like gun slits. A roof that seemed designed to repel both snow and bullets.
As we pulled up, I let out a low whistle. "Well, if we're going down, at least we'll do it in style."
Lakey snorted, dismounting gracefully. "Please. As if I'd let anyone take us down without one hell of a fight."
I grinned. My vixen.
Kyle pulled up beside us, the SUV's engine cutting off. As Sarah and Rose climbed out, I took in our surroundings. Dense forest pressed in on all sides, broken only by the narrow road we'd come in on.
"Home sweet home," Kyle announced. "What do you think?"
I eyed the cabin. "Looks like the kind of place serial killers dream about."
Sarah shot me a reproachful look, but Lakey just laughed. "Good thing we fit right in then, huh, babe?"
I winked at her, then turned to Kyle. "So, what's the security situation? You got more than just some sturdy logs between us and whoever might come knocking?"
Kyle's eyes narrowed. "Oh, I've got a few tricks up my sleeve. Why don't we head inside, and I'll give you the grand tour?"
As we grabbed our bags and headed towards the cabin, something felt off. But then, when had our lives ever been anything but one big, deadly game? We were here. We'd deal with whatever was on the other side of that door.
I stepped inside and the chill hit me, raising the hairs on my arms. The interior was all concrete and steel, a far cry from the rustic log cabin exterior. It was a bunker disguised as a woodland retreat.
"Cozy," I said, scanning the sparse furnishings.
A few metal chairs, a table that looked like it could double as a surgery station, and a wood-burning stove that seemed comically out of place.
At least there were a couple of couches in front of the fireplace, which was the only thing that felt homey.
Lakey sidled up next to me, her fingers intertwining with mine. "Reminds me of jail," she whispered.
"Yeah, you shoulda tried actually being in one. The shows you watch are nothing like reality."
She giggled, leaning up to give me a quick kiss before going back to dissecting our new surroundings.
I squeezed her hand. The cold walls, the constant vigilance, the need to watch each other's backs. It wasn't so different from everywhere we'd ever lived.
"At least this place has better amenities," I murmured back, nodding towards the stove.
"Juvie didn't let us cook shit. This place kinda reminds me of that one foster house where they kept the temperatures freezing all the time and the heat didn't work.
Fuck, I forgot their names. It'll come to me later. "
Lakey's eyes lit up. "How could I forget? That's when I learned how creative you could get with a lighter, a metal bucket, and some stolen booze."
I grinned, about to remind her of exactly how we'd kept warm those cold nights, when Sarah's voice cut through.
"Rose, why don't I show you to your room?" She gestured towards a narrow staircase. "It's just upstairs."
Rose hesitated, looking at us for confirmation. She looked ready to bolt. Guess Sarah's trauma work was only useful while it was being done. I snorted. Easier to just tuck it away in a locked box and release it when you needed a little extra oomph.
Sarah must have sensed it too. Her voice softened. "It's okay, sweetie. You're safe here. I promise."
Unease twisted in me. Not jealousy, not concern.
Just an unease as Sarah gently guided Rose towards the stairs.
It reminded me of Mrs. Keene, a respite worker, the only one of those fucks who'd ever shown me an ounce of kindness.
For a moment, I was back in that dingy kitchen, eleven years old and scarred in more ways than one, as Mrs. Keene tended to my latest injuries with gentle hands and soft words.
We were only there for a couple of days a month, but she was always kind.
It was the only reason she didn't make the list.