Page 81 of Wicked Little Nightmare

Well, that shut her up. Rose's screams cut off abruptly, her wide eyes locking onto Lakey's face. I couldn't help but smirk. My girl always did have a way with people.

"That's better," Lakey cooed, stroking her hair. "Now, let's take some nice, deep breaths together, okay?"

I watched as she guided Rose through breathing, marveling at how easily she slipped between ruthless killer and nurturing caretaker. It was almost beautiful, in a twisted sort of way.

As Rose's panic slowly subsided, I found myself wondering what kind of shit she'd been through to leave her this fucked up. Maybe we should've left her in that facility after all. Less hassle that way.

But then Lakey glanced back at me, a fierce protectiveness blazing in her eyes, and I knew we were in this for the long haul. Whatever Rose's damage was, it was ours to deal with now.

Lucky us.

I hesitated, feeling like a fish outta water. This touchy-feely shit wasn't my forte. Give me a knife and a target, and I'm your man. But comforting a traumatized girl? Not exactly in my wheelhouse. Look what I did to Lakes. I allowed that trauma to roam the earth, spilling blood whenever it saw fit. That was my comfort. That was my safety. But all this… weird emotional shit was for the therapists. This chick needed a psychologist and a side of Prozac. Probably the whole bottle.

Still, seeing Rose shaking like a leaf, her eyes darting around, seeing, but not really seeing, something inside me twisted.Fuck it. I couldn't just stand there like a useless lump.

I awkwardly lowered myself next to her, trying not to tower over her. "Hey, kid," I said, keeping my voice low and steady. "You're safe here. No one's gonna hurt you."

The words felt foreign on my tongue. I wasn't used to being the comforting type. But as Rose's eyes locked onto mine, I saw her soul try to reach out, to connect. Or maybe it was just desperation for any kind of lifeline.

"That's right," I continued, surprising myself. "We've got you. Me and Lakey, we're not gonna let anything bad happen to you. You hear me?"

Christ, what was I doing? Playing the protective big brother? That wasn't me.

But as Rose's breathing started to even out, I felt a weird sense of... satisfaction. It was unsettling, this urge to actually help someone instead of manipulating them. Or use them.

I caught Lakey's eye over Rose's head. She looked as shocked as I felt, but there was the same look in her eyes mirrored back at me. Comfort. Connection.

Fuck. What had we gotten ourselves into? This just got way out of my control.

Rose's trembling eased, her chest rising and falling in a calm, predictable pattern. As she uncurled from her fetal position, my eyes caught something on her skin that made my blood run cold.

"Holy shit," I muttered, leaning in for a closer look.

There, etched into Rose's pale flesh like some sick cattle brand, were the numbers "101011". The same ones on her wrist band. The skin around it was raised and angry, a permanent reminder of what she was. Just another number.

Lakey's fingers traced the scarred numbers, her touch gentle but her eyes blazing with a fury I knew all too well. "They branded her number on her, Cam," she spat, her voice a low, dangerous growl.

I felt my jaw clench. "Fucking animals," I hissed, surprised by the venom in my own voice.

Rose cleared her throat, the sound small and raw. When she spoke, her voice was barely a whisper, but it cut through the room like a knife. “They... they wanted to see how much we could take," she rasped, her eyes unfocused, lost in some hellish memory. "Pain... so much pain. Every day, new tests. New ways to break us."

My stomach churned. I'd seen some of that shit in the lab testing folders but hearing it… that hit different.

"Mental trials," Rose continued, her words tumbling out faster now. "Isolation. Sensory deprivation. Pushing us until we... until we shattered."

I glanced at Lakey, whose lips were a thin line. She looked at me and it was as if we were there. Perhaps we had been, long ago. Memories were sparse in returning, but the ones that swirled in my head were ones of a darker kind. Me inflicting pain, violence. Death by my own hands. More tests. Trials. Challenges. But Lakes… she’d been through something like Rosehad and that made me pause. If Lakey weren’t Lakey, she’d be a helluva lot like Rose. Outwardly damaged.

"Jesus," I breathed, running a hand through my hair. "Rose, I... fuck, I don't even know what to say."

Part of me wanted to bolt, to get as far away from this mess as possible. But something kept me there. This discomfort felt like razors crawling into my skin, splicing me from the inside out. Maybe it was the way Rose looked at us - like we were her only lifeline in a world gone mad.

I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the weight of Rose's words settle on us like a fuckin' anvil. This chick was damaged goods, no doubt about it. My mind raced with all the ways this could blow up in our faces. My feet moved of their own volitation, pacing me around the room until I sighed.

Leaning back against the far wall, I watched Lakey fuss over Rose like a mother hen. It was fucking surreal, seeing my psycho partner-in-crime playing nursemaid.

"You okay there, Rose?" I asked. "Need a band-aid for those boo-boos?"

Lakey shot me a look that could've peeled paint. "Play nice, Cam. Or I'll have to punish you later."

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