Page 36 of Wicked Little Nightmare

"Deep breaths, baby girl," he growled, his voice husky. "We need you sharp. Don’t lose that killer instinct now. Push it out of your mind and breathe. She needs you to be the avenging angel I know you are. You need you."

I nodded, forcing air into my lungs. The images of Lydia, of her baby, kept flashing through my mind like some twisted slideshow, flickering against the corners of my closed eyelids.

Taking another deep breath, my eyes now open, my hands shook as I gathered up the photos and notes. Each image made me want to tear my eyes out, but I forced myself to look at them one last time. To remember every detail of what those bastards had done.

"And from sin we exit, into salvation we go," I muttered, repeating the mantra they’d forced us to say, our knees bleeding from the spiked rugs they made us kneel on. I folded the gruesome evidence back into the envelope.

Cam's eyes were fixed on me, watching every move. "You sure you wanna see what they did to you?" he asked, his voice gruff but laced with a concern only I ever got to hear.

I shot him a look that could've melted silver. "You know me better than that, Axley. I’ve bathed in the blood of the innocent. Well, innocent-ISH. I wanna know everything."

A slow, dangerous smile spread across Cam's face. "Atta girl," he said, his eyes glinting with a mix of pride and bloodlust.

I handed him the envelope, his hand coming to rest on mine for a brief moment. A silent understanding passed between us, years of shared darkness and twisted loyalty condensed into a single look.

The stench of old papers and secrets filled my nostrils, making my stomach churn. I glanced around the dimly lit room, my gaze finally resting on the second envelope. My name glared back at me in stark black letters.

"Fuck," I muttered, running a hand through my hair.

Cam took a step back and leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "Let’s see what they carved out of you. Whatever it is, we can figure out something fun for them, repay the kindness, like his holy Saint would do and all that."

I snorted. "Yeah, by leaving a trail of bodies and burning everything to the ground."

He smirked, licking his teeth in a savage display. "Is there any other way?"

I reached for the envelope, my fingers trembling slightly. The weight of it felt like a fucking anvil in my hands. Whatever was inside, I knew it was gonna mess me up. But I had to know. Had to face whatever sick, twisted things they'd done.

"Here goes nothing," I said, turning the envelope over to expose the seal. "Let's see what kind of fucked up surprises these psychos left for me."

Cam couldn’t stand still as I stared, unable to make the first move to open it, coming to sit on the office chair just to the left of the desk. He watched me, eye’s narrowed as I turned the photo around.

I grunted. “Fuck, this is harder than I thought it’d be.”

“C’mere, baby girl, let me help you.”

Fifteen: Cam

Ipulled Lakey onto my lap, her small frame fitting perfectly against my chest. The worn leather of the chair creaked as I shifted. Nuzzling into her hair, I breathed deeply. Sure, she smelled like the death that permeated the air, but she also had her usual musk. It soothed me. Always had.

"Well, sweetheart, think about it like a party favor," I drawled, eyeing the envelope clutched in her hands.

Lakey's light blue eyes met mine, a hint of mischief dancing behind the fear. "This one’s addressed to me. Oh, still my beating heart, I simply cannot wait to open it. Maybe it’ll come with a deed to this here beautiful property. Wouldn’t that be grand, my darl?" She’d forced her voice to sound like a southern belle, squirming in my lap as she bowed to the otherwise empty room.

I chuckled darkly, tightening my arms around her. Fuck, I loved this woman - scars, psychopathy, and all. My little goldenretriever. Their vicious black cat. She never failed to display the strength behind her trauma, even if that strength sometimes came at the cost of someone else’s life.

"Open it," I murmured, biting her neck hard, trying to keep her in that same, strong frame of mind. "Let's see what skeletons are rattling around in there." She always calmed in my arms, and hopefully, it proved to be the same in a few minutes.

Lakey's nimble fingers carefully tore open the envelope. I felt her breath hitch as she pulled out the first photograph. My body went rigid, something dark bubbling up inside me as I took in the image.

There was my girl, sprawled out on a cold metal gurney.Vulnerable. Exposed. Used.

"Well, that's certainly not my best angle," Lakey quipped, but I heard the tremor in her voice. “God, it looks like I have 4 chins. Why wouldn’t they pose me better? You think they actually wanked to this? Gross.”

My mind raced, cataloging every detail of the sickening photo. The clinical setting. The needles. The vacant look in Lakey's usually vibrant eyes. They had an IV running into her arm and electrodes attached to her skull and chest, but for some reason, they hadn’t shut her eyes.Had she been semi conscious for this?Had she felt it?

I wanted to rip open a skull. To plunge my fingers into the soft of their eyeballs before ripping them from their eye sockets. To hunt down every motherfucker who'd laid a hand on her and make them suffer. Struggling to take a deep breath, I closed my eyes for a moment. First, I had to go through the motions.Get Lakes through this. Then murder.

"Hey," I said softly, turning her face towards mine. "We're gonna split ‘em open like stuck pigs. Every last one of them. I’m thinking a very Carrie-adjacent scene. We can pour their bloodall over us and bathe in it. Isn’t that a thing? Bathing in the blood of your enemies?"

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