Page 108 of Wicked Little Nightmare

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, feeling that familiar rush of adrenaline and affection.My vixen.

Kyle pulled up beside us, the SUV's engine cutting off with a final rumble. 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. The air was thick with the scent of pine and something wilder – the promise of isolation.

"Home sweet home," Kyle announced. "What do you think?"

I eyed the cabin critically. "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 back to Kyle. "So, what's the security situation like? You got more than just some sturdy logs between us and whoever might come knocking?"

Kyle's eyes glinted. "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, feeling like we were walking into a trap. But then, when had our lives ever been anything but one big, deadly game? Regardless, it was too late. We were here and we’d deal with whatever waited for us 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 like walking into a bunker disguised as a quaint woodland retreat.

"Cozy," I drawled, my eyes 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 almost comically out of place among the clinical surroundings. At least there was a couple couches in front of the fireplace, which was the only thing in here that felt homey.

Lakey sidled up next to me, her fingers intertwining with mine. "Reminds me of jail," she whispered, a hint of nostalgia in her voice that would've been disturbing to anyone who didn't know her like I did.

“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 abode.

I squeezed her hand, memories of our past flooding back. The cold walls, the constant vigilance, the need to watch each other's backs. It wasn't so different now.

"At least this place has better amenities," I murmured back, nodding towards the stove. "Juvie didn’t allow us to cook shit. I dunno, this place kinda reminds me of that one place we were in where they kept the temperatures freezing all the time and the heat didn’t work, do you remember that place? Fuck, I forgot their names. It’ll come to me later."

Lakey's eyes lit up with that dangerous glint I loved so much. "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 our private moment.

"Rose, why don't I show you to your room?" She gestured towards a narrow staircase. "It's just upstairs."

I watched as Rose hesitated, looking at us for confirmation that she was safe. The damn kid looked like she was about to bolt. Guess Sarah’s trauma shit was only useful while it was being done. I snorted. Waste of fucking time trying to unravel the mess. Easier to just tuck it away in a locked box and release it when you needed to access a little extraoomph.

Sarah must have sensed it too because her voice softened. "It's okay, sweetie. You're safe here. I promise."

I felt a twinge of... something. Not quite jealousy, not quite concern. Just a vague unease as I watched Sarah gently guide 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 days a month, but she was always kind when she saw us. It was the only reason she didn’t make the list.

"You okay, baby?" Lakey's voice snapped me back to the present.

I shook off the memory, forcing a smirk. "Never better, sweetheart. Just thinking about all the fun we could have in a place like this."

Lakey's answering grin was wicked. "Oh, I'm counting on it."

Kyle cleared his throat, drawing our attention. "Alright, that’s enough of that. Time for the grand tour of our little fortress."

I raised an eyebrow. "What, no chocolate on the pillow?"

Kyle snorted, leading us towards a nondescript section of wall. "Sorry, fresh out. But I've got something better."

---