Page 34 of Wicked Little Nightmare

I had a sneaking suspicion I knew what they’d done to her, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted her to find out. Her dreams of being a mother would shatter, and I might not be able to hold all the pieces together.

The devastation might just destroy her.

“Oh my God, Cam! Look!” she pointed excitedly at a nondescript box. Opening it, a small silver key lay inside.

Of course she would find it. Of course she would.

“Well? Where do you think its other half is?” She went on a frenzy searching for where the key might fit.

A silver security box caught my eye under a stack of paper in the shredder. “Probably in here.” I reached down to grab it, setting it on the table in front of us. “Babe… once you open this… if your file is in here, there’s no going back. Do you understand that? Whatever is in here, this is the truth of what happened to you. Do… are you sure you want to know?”

She looked pensive for a moment.

“Yes.” Taking a deep breath, she held the key towards the lock on the box. “Yes, I want to know.”

Fourteen: Lakey

My fingers shook like a junkie needing a fix as I reached into that fucking security box. Heart hammering, I grabbed two envelopes, my eyes zeroing in on the one with "Lydia Hamilton" scrawled across it.

"Shit," I muttered, glancing at Cam. His face was stone, jaw clenched tight enough to crack walnuts. He gave me a curt nod.

I tore into Lydia's envelope like a starved animal, memories of her flooding my brain. Her laugh, her stupid jokes, the way she'd given me her last piece of bread when they’d had us on a ‘starvation cleanse for our sins’. But those thoughts evaporated the second I saw that first photo.

Lydia. My friend. The one who held me as I screamed in the night. Sprawled out like a broken doll, skin pale as milk. A jagged, angry scar ripped across her belly in an upside-down T, held together by crude stitches. I traced it with my finger,bile rising in my throat. Red, angry welts criss-crossed over her breasts. Her wrists held deep purple bruises.

But her face was finally at peace.

"Jesus fucking Christ," I choked out, my vision blurring. "They butchered her, Cam. Like a goddamn pig."

Cam's hand landed heavy on my shoulder as he leaned forward. "Keep going, Lakes. We need to know everything. I… I can look if you don’t want to."

I shook my head. I needed to know. Everything they’d done to us, would be done seven-fold. Just like they’d promised me if I didn’t let them…

No. I can’t think of that right now. I’ll fall apart.

My mind raced, piecing together the horror show in front of me. What the hell had they done to her? And why? The questions burned, but I knew the answers would be worse.

"I should've been here," I whispered, more to myself than Cam. "I could've stopped this. I could've saved her."

"You couldn’t have, baby. You were very much a victim yourself," Cam growled, his voice low and dangerous. "But we can make these fuckers pay. I feel like I fucked up, setting this whole thing in motion. Maybe we’d have been better off carrying on the way we were. It’s not too late for me to call Dani."

“I killed Dani, dip shit.”

He chuckled, “Whatever, there’s always one to replace the old. Anyway, it’s not too late for us to just walk away, light a match and forget about all of it.”

“Nah. Call it my morbid curiosity, but I need to know what they did. Besides, I’m having some hella hot visions of you fucking me while I stand inside Father Christophers corpse.”It’s true. It would be super hot.

“Damn baby, that’s nasty. Okay, what’s next?”

I looked up at him, seeing the cold fury overtake the brief flicker of lust in his eyes. It matched the inferno raging in mychest, threatening to consume everything. I managed a lop-sided smile.

"Got any ideas for the Father? I'm thinking we start with his fingers."

Cam's lips curled into a cruel smirk. "Sounds like a good warm-up to me, darlin'."

I turned back to the photos, steeling myself for what came next. Lydia deserved justice, and I'd paint these halls red to get it for her. There were so many photos here… why? Why did they document it like this? Did they get off on it?

I suppose I’m not much different. Getting off on killing women who touch Cam. At least I recognize that I’m sick and twisted. They did everything they did under the guise of ‘love and salvation.’

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