Page 32 of Wicked Little Nightmare

"Listen to me," I said, soothing my voice so it was quiet. "We're gonna burn this place to the ground, you hear me? We'll make them pay. Every last one of them."

Her screams subsided into choked sobs, her fingers digging into my arms hard enough to draw blood. I didn't flinch. Physical pain was nothing compared to watching the love of my fucked-up life fall apart in my arms.

I realized with a start that in all my years of knowing her, I’d never seen her cry. Her anguish reached deep into my chest and ripped out what remained of my heart. All of me. All of me belonged to her. I’d give her everything if only to stop those heavy sobs that escaped her.

Suddenly, she wrenched herself from my grasp, her blue eyes wild and unfocused. She stumbled forward, her gaze darting around the room like a cornered animal.

"Woah, easy there, killer," I said, forcing a lightness into my tone I didn't feel. "What's the rush? We've got all night to play in this little house of horrors."

She didn't respond, moving with frantic energy towards a rusted metal table. Her fingers traced the outline of what looked like some kind of electrical device, and my stomach turned. Jesus Christ, what had they done to her here?

I hung back, watching as she moved from one grotesque instrument to another. My gut was in knots as I fought back the urge to stop her. This felt like a fucking mistake. Sure, she deserved to know, but fuck, if the look on her face wasn’t enough to send me to my knee’s… I straightened my spine and crossed my hands to stop myself from doing something stupid. She’d never know what happened if I intervened now.

"You know," I drawled, leaning against a grimy wall, "most girls would settle for a nice dinner and movie date. But you? You drag me to the creepiest basement this side of a Stephen King novel. I gotta say, I'm impressed. If you ask nice, I’ll fuck you on that nasty table." I didn’t want to, gangrene would probably set in, and I’d lose my cock, but if it helped…

Lakey's lips twitched, the barest hint of a smile. "Shut up, Cam," she muttered, but there was no heat in it. “To be fair… YOU dragged ME down here. You’re the one who found the stairs, so fuck you very much.”

I was about to fire back with another quip when she froze, her gaze locked on something behind me. I turned, following her line of sight, and my blood ran cold.

Shelves upon shelves of glass jars lined the far wall, each one labeled with a girl's name. The contents... Christ, I'd seen some fucked up shit in my time, but this? This was a whole new level of depravity. The weird goo jars had nothing on these. These looked like… body parts? Babies? Parts of people, that much was fucking clear.

"Well, fuck me sideways," I breathed, a sick need to enact justice curling in my gut. It was a foreign feeling. My urges didn’t usually extend to that level of righteous, but somehow this was far worse than anything I’d have even imagined someone could do. Which is fucking hilarious given the games we play. "Looks like we've hit the jackpot, baby. These sick fucks left us a whole treasure trove of evidence."

She didn't respond. Her face had gone eerily blank, but I could see the storm brewing behind those pretty blue eyes. Her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides, and I knew that look. She was about to explode, and it was going to be fucking glorious.

I grinned, dark anticipation coursing through my veins. "What do you say we start making a list of all the people we're gonna make pay for this?"

I watched as Lakey's carefully constructed facade crumbled, her rage erupting like a volcano. She let out a Goddamn roar that split my ears. Not a pained scream, no. This was anger, rage… fury. And then she was moving, her hands sweeping across the shelves, sending jars crashing to the floor.

The cacophony of shattering glass was music to my ears, but we couldn't afford to lose our heads. Not until we had all our ducks in a row.

"Whoa there, baby," I said, my voice low and steady as I approached her. "I know you want to destroy it all, but we've got work to do first."

Lakey whirled on me, her eyes wild. "Don't you dare try to stop me, Cam. These monsters—"

"—are gonna pay," I finished for her, gripping her shoulders. "But we need proof. Evidence. You want to make sure they suffer, right?"

She nodded, her breath coming in short gasps. I could feel her trembling under my hands, and fuck if it didn't make me want to pull her close and never let go.

"Then let's do this smart," I said, jerking my head towards a door in the corner. "Look. Office. Bet you anything those sick fucks kept records. Let’s take pictures and record everything we can. All these jars have names. We can find the girls and help them, somehow. I don’t know. Give them money or something."

I paused, looking at the shattered ones on the floor. Something slimy had fallen out and it looked a hell of a lot like an eyeball. “Well, not those girls, cuz I ain’t touching that shit to get to the label. But the rest.”

Lakey's eyes followed mine, and I saw the moment clarity returned. She took a deep breath, steadying herself.

"You're right," she rasped in exasperation. "God, I hate when you're right."

I smirked, unable to help myself. "That's why you keep me around, sweetheart. Now, ready to go dig up some dirt?"

She nodded, determination replacing the blind fury in her eyes. As we made our way to the office, I stared at my girl. She was so damn strong. Broken, dangerous, and utterly fuckingperfect. Now, we unleash her on the world. Show them what she’s made of. What they made her into.

You know, lesser men would want to take the spotlight. To be the hero. But nah, I’m content riding sidekick to my beautiful angel. Besides, I had my own demons to catch, and I know she’d do the same for me.

I reached for the doorknob, half-expecting it to be locked, but it turned easily under my hand. The door creaked open, revealing a cramped space that reeked of sex and secrets.

"Jesus," I muttered, taking in the chaos. "Looks like a tornado hit a paper factory in here."

Lakey squeezed past me, her eyes scanning the room. "Or like someone tried to hide evidence in a hurry," she said, her voice low and dangerous. She moved towards a busted shredder in the corner, pointing to the half-shredded records sticking out haphazardly. “Hopefully that shit wasn’t important. More than enough left here to comb over, anyway.”

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