Page 22 of Wicked Little Nightmare

“I don’t know! Just… I have a gut feeling it’s him and we need Skeeter because he can lead us to him!”

Biting my lip, I nodded. “Okay, okay. You’re right. It probably is him. Let’s go get the scumbag and make him talk. But back at the apartment, okay?”

We got back to the cliff, only to find Skeeter gone.Of course.

Lakey screamed and took off down the hill, following the only trail it had. The one Skeeter would have taken to run from us. I tried keeping up to her, but in this state, she was more monster than woman.

A roar shattered the silent chase, followed by muffled yells. Once I caught up, Lakey was sitting on his chest, beating the fuck out of him. Honestly, I had half the mind to let her continue but I knew she needed him for more information.

“Lakes, baby. Easy.” I said, prying her off him.

He coughed up blood and spat at her. “Fuck you both! I’m not telling either of you shits anything!”

She hissed, but I grabbed her wrist before she could hit him again. “Lakey, stop. We need him in one piece, remember?”

Reluctantly she stood up, and I bent down, hauling him to his feet. He never took his eyes off her. “You wanna tell us what we need to know?”

He shook his head, “I told you; I don’t know anything else. He just paid me a lot of money not to find them. To lead whoever was looking in another direction, okay? Fuck.” He spat out more blood. “You guys are fucking insane, okay, just leave me the fuck alone.”

I grinned. “No, Skeeter. You’re coming with us back to our place. Lakes, take the bike, I’ll bring him.”

She growl-screamed and took off towards where she stashed her bike.

“Come on, bestie. Let’s go have dinner at my place, shall we? You owe us a meal, remember? Don’t worry, I’ll order take-out if you’re a good boy.”

He groaned but had no choice. It was this or unleashing Lakey on him again, and quite frankly, death by me was always the better choice. Lakey had a creative streak that I didn’t and sometimes her kills were just a work of art. Like… Killcasso. Or something.

“So, Skeeter. How’s your love life?” I opened the passenger door and shoved him in before getting in my side and jumping the ignition. “Fucked any old biddies lately?”

“Fuck you, Cam. I did that ONE TIME.”

“One time’s a lot of time’s when it comes to coming on someone’s grandma.” I snickered and began to drive.

This might be the break we needed to find the fucking cult that hurt my girl. And if Skeeter couldn’t—or wouldn’t–—give us the information we needed, I’d find someone who would. As much as killing our foster families was going to be fun, I knew her hatred burned for those nuns. She’d kept their secrets locked tight in her heart and I intended on helping her exact revenge.

In the meantime, Skeeter was going to be very well taken care of, either in my house, giving me what I need, or at the bottom of the ocean, where the rest of the fucks who crossed us slept.

His choice.

Ten: Lakey

The bathroom light flickered, casting eerie shadows as we dragged Skeeter's squirming body across the grimy tiles. His muffled whimpers echoed off the walls, music to my ears. I couldn't help but hum a cheery tune as I zip-tied his wrists to the rusty bathtub handle.

"There we go, all snug as a bug," I cooed, patting his tear-stained cheek. "Now, wasn't that fun?"

Skeeter's eyes bulged with terror, darting between me and Cam.God, I loved that look.It sent delicious shivers down my spine.

I leaned in close, my lips brushing his ear. "Listen up, my sweet little pig. You've got two choices here: spill your guts, or we'll spill them for you. Easy peasy, right?"

My voice was meant to calm, to soothe, much like a vampires would if they were real. But let’s face it, I usually had theopposite effect. Maybe I needed something more poignant to be seen as a non-threat. Like if I lost the knives. Or the maniacal grin. Behind me, I heard the rhythmic snick of Cam's butterfly knife as he flipped it open and closed. Such a show-off. But damn if it didn't add to the ambiance. To be honest, it made me want to jump his bones. His brand of violence was always lyrical and mine was messy. Together, we were something to be admired.

"Tick tock, Skeeter," I sing-songed, trailing a finger down his trembling jaw. "What's it gonna be?"

My mind raced with possibilities. Would he crack right away? Or would we get to have some real fun first? The anticipation was killing me. Well, it would be killing Skeeter soon enough if he didn't wise up.

I turned and caught Cam's eye. That familiar dark glint made my heart skip. God, he was magnificent when he got like this — all darkened danger and lethal grace. I’d half the mind to bend over on the sink and let him have his way with me, but then he’d kill Skeeter and we’d all be fucked.

Focus, Lakey. Business before pleasure.

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