Page 78 of Wicked Little Nightmare

Go fucking figure.

She shook her head, a tear falling down her cheek. I felt… something at the sight.This… this brokenness would have been my fate. This weakness that Rose has, that overt display of emotion. If I wasn’t what I was. What they’d turned me into. Maybe what they’d bred me for. I was grateful, at least, that I was nothing if not mentally strong because watching those tears both disgusted and intrigued me.

I stood up, my chair scraping against the floor. "Come on, Rosie. Let's get you out of those rags."

Rose's eyes darted to mine, wide with uncertainty. I could practically hear her heart racing.

"Don't worry, buttercup. I've got some clothes that'll fit you just fine," I said, gesturing for her to follow me. “Not gonna hurt you. I’d have done it already. I don’t really play with my food. Ask Cam.”

He snorted and rolled his eyes earning himself a glare before I grinned and winked at him, relishing in the way he watched me walk away, putting a little extra pep in my step just for him.

As we walked to the closet, I couldn't help but notice how she hugged the walls, like she was trying to disappear into them. Her eyes never left me, watching my every move. Smart girl. At least she had survival instincts. Those will come in handy.

I flung open the closet door with a flourish. "Ta-da! Pick your poison."

Rose hesitated; her gaze fixed on the array of clothes. She was taller than me, but about the same size. Her arms wrapped tightly around herself, and I caught a glimpse of angry red scars peeking out from under her sleeve.

"Aw, come on now," I coaxed. "No need to be shy. We're all friends here."

I reached out, gently tugging at her arm. She tensed, and for a second, I thought she might bolt. But then something in her eyes changed. It wasn't trust — I'm not that fucking delusional — but maybe a flicker of resignation.

As she slowly lowered her arms, I saw the full extent of her scars. They crisscrossed her skin like a roadmap of pain. For a moment, just a split second really, I felt bad for her.

"Hey," I said, my voice softer than I intended. "We've all got our battle scars, yeah? Nothing to be ashamed of."

Rose's eyes met mine, searching for... fuck knows what. Empathy?Good luck with that, honey.

But as I looked at her, all vulnerable and broken, I felt that weird twinge again. Christ, was I going soft? I was. I noticed it a little more everyday and it had everything to fucking do with the little girl waiting for me somewhere. Somewhere that I couldn’t get to.

Yet. Anyway.

"Look," I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Pick whatever you want. No judgment here. Hell, we could be twins if you wanted. Matching outfits and all that cutesy shit. I got some stripper clothes in there, but I don’t think walking around in nipple tassels is a great idea. Kind of draws attention, ya know?"

A ghost of a smile flickered across Rose's face. It was small, barely there, but it stirred something in me. Something dangerously close to actually giving a shit.

Goddamn it. This girl was going to be trouble.

I felt Cam's eyes on us before I saw him. That prickle on the back of my neck, the one I'd learned to trust years ago. I glanced over my shoulder, catching his gaze from across the room.

Fuck. His face was doing that thing — that barely-there softness that made my stomach twist. It wasn't the look he gave me when he wanted to fuck or kill. This was... different. Protective, almost.

I turned back to Rose, fighting the urge to bare my teeth. "Come on, doll. Let's get you dressed and presentable. Can't have you looking like a hot mess in our humble abode, can we?"

Rose nodded; her movements still hesitant as she picked through the clothes. I kept my tone light, but inside, my thoughts were a fucking tornado. Was Cam getting attached? To her? The idea made me want to laugh and stab something simultaneously.No. Not my Cam. He’s just following my lead. No need to be jealous over a little mouse.

He lived for me. Breathed for me. He’d never even side-eye another girl unless I told him I wanted him too. And I didn’t. Not anymore.

Once Rose was dressed, looking less like a scared rabbit and more like an actual human, I led her to the living room. "There we go. Much better, right? You clean up nice, kid."

I flopped onto the couch, patting the spot next to me. Rose perched on the edge, as if sitting next to me would put her in immediate danger of dying.

"So," I drawled, flashing my most disarming smile. "Tell me, Rose. What's your favorite way to unwind after a long day of... whatever the fuck it is you do when you’re not being tortured by our Father?"

Her eyes widened slightly. Progress. At least she was responding to something.

I leaned in, conspiratorial. "Me? I like a good bubble bath. Scented candles, glass of wine, maybe some light stabbing. You know, the classics."

A strangled sound escaped Rose's throat. It took me a second to realize it was a laugh - or at least, an attempt at one.

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