Page 42 of Wicked Little Nightmare

Cam's eyes snapped open, fixing me with that intense stare that always made my insides squirm. "We got what we came for, Lakey. That's what matters."

I nodded, trying to focus on our victory instead of how nice it would have felt to sink my blade into their soft bellies. Cam pushed himself up suddenly, striding over to the fireplace. I watched as he reached for the bottle of whiskey on the mantle, his movements smooth and confident despite the night's chaos.

He turned back to me, a familiar glint in his eye. "Think we've earned this, don't you?"

I couldn't help but smirk. "Fuck yeah, we have."

Cam dropped back down beside me, unscrewing the cap and taking a long swig before passing the bottle. The whiskey burned going down, but it was a welcome sensation. Something real to ground me in the moment.

"To not being fertile anymore," I toasted sarcastically, raising the bottle before taking another gulp.

Cam's laugh was dark and low. "To making them regret the day they fucked with us."

We passed the bottle back and forth, the alcohol slowly dulling the hazy red that tinted my vision. I could feel Cam's body heat next to me. There was nowhere else I'd rather be than right here, plotting revenge with the only person who truly understood me. The only thing that would have made today the best in my sordid existence, would have been kidnapping Sister Anne.

Oh, fuck! Skeeter!

“Babe, we still have Skeets in the tub.”

“Eh, let him chill for a bit. We have a lot of work for him to do, so let’s let him rest for now. Besides, my heads starting to spin and I kinda want you to ride me like a cowgirl.”

I leaned back against the wall, letting my head fall onto Cam's shoulder. His arm snaked around me, pulling me closer. The familiar scent of his skin mixed with whiskey and adrenaline made my head swim.

"You know," I murmured, tracing the outline of his tattoo through his shirt, "sometimes I think we're the only real honest people on this planet."

Cam's chest rumbled with a low chuckle. "That's 'cause we are, babe. Everyone else is just playing pretend. At least we’re honest enough to admit our impulses exist and act on them. Whether they’re right or wrong is merely up to personal interpretation. Personally, I rather like when you’re painted like one of those French girls. The red makes your eyes stand out. Like a cute little owl."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't stop the grin spreading across my face. "God, you're such an asshole."

"Yeah, but I'm your asshole," he retorted, pressing a rough kiss to my temple.

The silence stretched between us. I thought about the girl we'd seen being carried away, the nuns with their gas cans. The world was full of monsters wearing masks of righteousness. But Cam and me? We wore our monstrosity on our sleeves.

"Hey," I said suddenly, sitting up to look him in the eye. "You ever regret... this?" I gestured vaguely between us. "All the blood and chaos?"

Cam's dark eyes bore into mine, his expression unreadable. For a moment, I saw a flicker of the boy I'd known in that hellhole of a foster home – scared, angry, desperate for connection. Then his familiar smirk returned.

"Regret?" he scoffed. "Sweetheart, you're the best goddamn thing that's ever happened to me. I could never regret you. You’re the only thing I’ve done right in my life."

I felt something uncoil in my chest, a tension I hadn't even realized was there. Cam might be a sadistic bastard, but he was my sadistic bastard. And I was his murderous little pet. It wasn't love, at least, not in any way the rest of the world would recognize. But it was ours, forged in blood and fire and shared trauma.

I leaned in, biting his lower lip hard enough to draw blood before kissing him fiercely. "Good," I breathed against his mouth. "'Cause I'm not done with you yet, Cam Axley."

His answering grin was all teeth and promise. "Wouldn't have it any other way, Lakey Aldrich."

Seventeen: Cam

The empty whiskey bottle rolled away as I slumped against the wall, my limbs heavy and my head pulsing. A pleasant warmth spread through my body, dulling the ache in my bones.Damn, that was such a rush. It’s a damn good thing the booze is taking off the edge. Seeing Lakey on that table…

It’s enough to make the demon in me crawl. Revenge was in the forefront of my mind, and as much as Lakey thinks I’m the calm, collected one, I only took that role because two unhinged non-thinkers would be bad, and we’d get caught. Not saying she doesn’t think. She does. She’s actually highly intelligent. But when it comes to controlling the impulse… it’s a work in progress.

Personally, I’d have loved to set them all on fire, but we might need them to figure out just how deep all this shit goes. I have a sneaking suspicion this isn’t the only place they’re doing this,and it would depend on what Lakes wants as to whether or not we go any further once we get going.

I pushed myself up, the room tilting like a carnival ride. Steadying myself, I caught sight of Lakey sprawled on the floor, her blue eyes fixed on me with that mix of hunger and devotion that never failed to get me hard.

"Enjoying the show, sweetheart?" I drawled, giving her a lazy grin. I ordered my hands to move up my body, in a show of sexiness, before I stumbled backward and crashed into the door.

Her lips curved into a wicked smile. "Oh, absolutely. Nothing sexier than watching you struggle to stand up straight, babe."

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