Page 27 of Wicked Little Nightmare

The old mill loomed ahead, a hulking shadow against the starlit sky. My pulse quickened, that familiar rush of adrenaline flooding my veins. Hopefully, we can find something here that we need.

As we approached the dilapidated structure, I cut the engine, letting us coast silently into the shadows. The weight of what we were about to do settled over us, plunging us into contemplative silence. But hell, we'd been carrying that weight our whole lives.

Lakey slid off the bike as I parked, her eyes gleaming with that manic light I knew all too well. "Ready to raise some hell, baby?"

I grinned, feeling that familiar darkness rise within me. "Always."

With one last shared look – a promise, a threat, a fucked-up declaration of love – we moved towards the building. The night held its breath, waiting for the chaos we were about to unleash.

Twelve: Lakey

The crunch of gravel under our feet sounded like bones breaking. Fitting, considering the shithole looming before us. I squinted at the faded sign, my stomach churning as memories clawed their way up my throat.

"St. Agnes Home for Wayward Girls," I read aloud, my voice barely a whisper. "More like St. Agnes House of Fucking Horrors. Who the fuck was St. Agnes anyway? Probably some cunt with a stick up her ass and the pope’s dick down her throat."

Cam's hand found the small of my back, a gentle pressure grounding me. "You okay, sweetheart?"

I swallowed hard, pushing down the bile. "Peachy. Let's get this over with."

We approached the decrepit building, its windows like hollow eyes watching our every move. Each step closer sent shiversdown my spine, my body remembering the pain these walls had witnessed. But I wouldn't let the past win. Not again. Not ever.

"You sure about this, Lakes?" Cam's voice was low, concern etched in his features as he regarded my hesitancy. "We can turn back."

I shook my head, steeling myself. "No. I need to face this. There are too many blind spots in my memory. They probably kept some kind of filing system here. Names, addresses… procedures…"

Cam nodded, his dark eyes scanning the perimeter. "Alright. Let's find a way in."

He led us around back, his tall frame casting long shadows in the fading light. I trailed behind, my fingers absently tracing the scars on my arms. Each one a reminder of what I'd endured, what I'd survived.

"Hey," Cam called out suddenly, jerking me from my thoughts. He was pointing at a window, slightly ajar. "Kitchen entrance. Looks like our ticket in."

I stared at the opening, my heart racing. This was it. No turning back now.

"After you, my dear," Cam said with a smirk, gesturing dramatically.

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help the small smile tugging at my lips. Even in the face of my personal hell, he could still make me grin. Twisted as our love might be, it was ours.

"Such a gentleman," I quipped, moving towards the window. "Don't forget, if anyone’s in here, they’re mine. Don’t even think about killing them before I do."

Cam's laugh echoed in the empty yard. "Wouldn't dream of it, darling. Your murderous tendencies are one of your most endearing qualities."

As I gripped the windowsill, preparing to hoist myself inside, I paused. The familiar scent of lemon-pine cleanersomehow wafted out, mixed with mold and decay threatening to overwhelm me.

"I can do this," I whispered to myself, closing my eyes briefly. "I'm not that scared little girl anymore."

Cam's hand squeezed my shoulder. "No, you're not. You're a goddamn force of nature, Lakey Aldrich. Now let's go raise some hell."

With a deep breath, I nodded and pulled myself through the window, ready to face whatever ghosts awaited us inside.

I landed on the dusty kitchen floor with a soft thud, my feet kicking up clouds of neglect. The sound echoed through the empty room, making my skin crawl. As Cam's large frame followed me through the window, I took in our surroundings.

"Jesus fucking Christ," I muttered, my eyes darting around the kitchen.

Broken plates and shattered cups littered the floor like abandoned memories. Chairs lay overturned, frozen in a moment of panic that had long since passed. The air was thick with dust and death, coating my lungs with each breath.

"Looks like everyone left in a hurry," Cam observed, his dark eyes scanning the room. "Bad memories, sweetheart?"

I swallowed hard, pushing down the bile rising in my throat. "You have no idea."

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