Page 94 of Wicked Little Nightmare

"My thoughts exactly," I grinned. "Time to play neurosurgeon?"

Lakey's answering smile was downright wicked. "On Beaver? I can’t wait. I’ve always loved that operating board game and now I can try it out in real life. What a fantastic turn of events."

I chuckled, feeling that familiar rush of excitement. We were in way over our heads, but damn if it didn't feel good to have Lakey by my side. My ride or die.

“Can I do it babe?” She said, practically vibrating from excitement as she played with her karambit. “Pleaaaaase.”

The way she looked at me with those big eyes made me want to say yes. “Let me do a quick lookie loo on the laptop, go throughthe phone and we can see what we find. If you feel confident, then yes, but… Lakes… you can’t go in like a bull in a China shop. This is kind of a one-shot deal. If you fuck up, we lose the only chance we have at practicing.”

Lakey nodded, grabbing the phone from my hand as I plopped my ass down in front of the laptop, cracking my knuckles. Time to see what kind of tracking shit Skeeter had hidden in his digital closet. My fingers flew across the keys, digging through encrypted files, like a kid in a candy store. All this time going through this hard drive and I’d barely scratched the surface. Half the time I didn’t even know what I was looking for, but with this tracker info, it would cut my manual search time drastically.

"Fuck yes, thank you Skeets," I muttered, pulling up a folder labeled 'Implant Procedure'. What an idiot. You’d think he would at least try to be stealth. Though, I suppose he hadn’t planned on fucking dying.

As I scrolled through diagrams of brain surgery that would make Frankenstein squeamish, I felt my stomach do a little flip. Not from the gore — hell, I'd seen worse — but from what this meant for Rose. This was complicated. Dangerous. If I made one wrong move… it was game over. As much as I loved Lakey, this wasn’t something she could do. Her impatience would frustrate her.

"Fuck me sideways," I sighed, running a hand through my hair and over my face.

Across the room, Lakey was doing her own digging, her pretty little head bent over Beaver's phone. Her brow furrowed in concentration, and I couldn't help but admire the way her eyes lit up when she found something juicy.

"Hey, Cam," she called out, her voice tight. "You seeing what I'm seeing? This… isn’t good."

I glanced back at my screen, wanting to see what I missed. Scrolling down, I stopped. There it was, in black and white:'Neural chip integration complete. Removal impossible without fatal consequences.'

"Well, that’s just lovely," I said, trying to mask the worry in my voice. "Looks like our little Rose has got herself a permanent dance partner."

Lakey's eyes met mine, a mix of frustration and determination swirling in the depth of her gaze. "We'll figure it out, babe. We always do. Worst case, if we open Beavers head and can’t, then I can do some lobotomy work. Wouldn’t that be fun? Having our own little zombie."

I chuckled at the thought.

A sudden commotion drew my attention. Beaver was thrashing around like a fish out of water, his zip-tied hands scraping against the chair as he tried to wriggle free. Poor bastard looked like he was about to shit himself. Rose towered over him, her fingers in his eye, pushing down as he pleaded for mercy.

Lakey watched with increasing fascination. She sauntered over, crouching down next to him with a smile that could cut glass.

"Aw, does someone feel a little icky?" Then she turned to Rose. “You know, if you wanted to pop that out, we could keep it in a jar for you. I’m sure there’s a homemade recipe for how to keep it good. Would you like that, Rose?”

I couldn't help but chuckle. Lakey had a way of making even the most fucked-up situations seem fun.

"Rose," I called out, tearing my eyes away from the spectacle. "C'mere a sec, sweetheart."

“Really, Cam? Right now? I wanted to watch her pull his eye out. Fucker always ruining my fun.” Lakey sat on the couch with a pout, crossing her legs in a flourish.

Rose approached cautiously, her eyes darting between me and Beaver. I softened my voice, trying not to spook her. "I needyou to tell me about those sensations you've been feeling. The burning. When does it happen?"

Rose hesitated, chewing on her lower lip. "It's... it's not constant. Just every once in a while. Like a flash of heat at the base of my skull."

Something clicked in my brain. I glanced at Beaver, then back at Rose. "And when was the last time you felt it?"

"Just before... before he showed up," she whispered, nodding towards our captive. “And then when you pressed it.”

"Son of a bitch," I muttered, the pieces falling into place. "From what I gather from Skeet’s files, it’s not constantly active. Each one has a remote. The wire acts as some kind of antenna. Every time you felt that burn, this asshole was trying to pinpoint your location."

Lakey's eyes widened in understanding. "The button's an activator."

I turned to Beaver, my voice dripping with false sweetness. "Alright, buddy. Time for you to spill. Who else has access to these patients' locations?"

Beaver clenched his jaw, but fear flickered in his eyes. "It's... it's all stored in a central locator system. At headquarters."

"And where might that be?" I leaned in close, my breath hot on his face.

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