Page 125 of Wicked Nightmare

Rose flushed. "It's all I have. Lakey gave me some clothes, but we never went shopping, remember?" She turned to Sarah. "Do you think... maybe we could get some more clothes for me at some point?"

Sarah's face softened. "Of course, sweetie. Once we're settled in, we'll take care of that. Cam, I'll set the GPS for you, just follow it. It's off the beaten path, but I think you'll find it up to your standards."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Lakey caught my look and smirked.

"Alright, assholes," Kyle announced. "Let's move out."

As we filed out of the apartment, I locked the door behind us. Somehow, I knew we'd never be back. And yet I wanted to make sure our little life stayed preserved inside. It was pathetic, maybe, but I wasn't ready for the weird sense of loss that settled over me. The realization that someday, someone else would occupy this space and overwrite all the memories we'd made in those walls. The training sessions with Rose. The grilled cheese dinners. Lakey braiding Rose's hair on the couch while I pretended to read Skeet's files but was really watching them. Beaver's blood on the kitchen table. All of it. Gone.

The wind whipped through my hair as we tore down the desolate highway, Lakey riding by my side. The roar of our bikes drowned out everything but my own thoughts, which were racing faster than the scenery blurring past us.

I glanced in my side mirror, catching sight of Kyle's SUV following close behind. Sarah was in the passenger seat. In the back, I could just make out Rose's small form, her head resting against the window.

"You good?" I asked over the speaker to Lakes.

She gave me a thumbs up. "Never better, baby. Nothing like a ride to get the blood pumping!"

As we veered off onto a dirt road, memories of another frantic escape flooded my mind. I was thirteen again, heart pounding as Lakey and I ran from our foster home. The smell of smoke and gasoline still clung to our clothes as the house went up in flames. Dearest mother had forgotten food on the stove, causing a rapidly spreading blaze, destroying everything and almost killing us in the process. Sarah had been the one to take us out of their care, before placing us with our worst and last family.

I shook my head, forcing myself back to the present. The trees were getting thicker now, the road narrowing to little more than a path. After what felt like hours of twisting and turning through the wilderness, a clearing finally came into view.

And there it was.

The cabin looked like something out of a doomsday prepper's wet dream. High, sturdy walls of rough-hewn logs. Narrow, reinforced windows that were more like gun slits. A roof that seemed designed to repel both snow and bullets.

As we pulled up, I let out a low whistle. "Well, if we're going down, at least we'll do it in style."

Lakey snorted, dismounting gracefully. "Please. As if I'd let anyone take us down without one hell of a fight."

I grinned. My vixen.

Kyle pulled up beside us, the SUV's engine cutting off. As Sarah and Rose climbed out, I took in our surroundings. Dense forest pressed in on all sides, broken only by the narrow road we'd come in on.

"Home sweet home," Kyle announced. "What do you think?"

I eyed the cabin. "Looks like the kind of place serial killers dream about."

Sarah shot me a reproachful look, but Lakey just laughed. "Good thing we fit right in then, huh, babe?"

I winked at her, then turned to Kyle. "So, what's the security situation? You got more than just some sturdy logs between us and whoever might come knocking?"

Kyle's eyes narrowed. "Oh, I've got a few tricks up my sleeve. Why don't we head inside, and I'll give you the grand tour?"

As we grabbed our bags and headed towards the cabin, something felt off. But then, when had our lives ever been anything but one big, deadly game? We were here. We'd deal with whatever was on the other side of that door.

I stepped inside and the chill hit me, raising the hairs on my arms. The interior was all concrete and steel, a far cry from the rustic log cabin exterior. It was a bunker disguised as a woodland retreat.

"Cozy," I said, scanning the sparse furnishings. A few metal chairs, a table that looked like it could double as a surgery station, and a wood-burning stove that seemed comically out of place. At least there were a couple of couches in front of the fireplace, which was the only thing that felt homey.

Lakey sidled up next to me, her fingers intertwining with mine. "Reminds me of jail," she whispered.

"Yeah, you shoulda tried actually being in one. The shows you watch are nothing like reality."

She giggled, leaning up to give me a quick kiss before going back to dissecting our new surroundings.

I squeezed her hand. The cold walls, the constant vigilance, the need to watch each other's backs. It wasn't so different from everywhere we'd ever lived.

"At least this place has better amenities," I murmured back, nodding towards the stove. "Juvie didn't let us cook shit. This place kinda reminds me of that one foster house where they kept the temperatures freezing all the time and the heat didn't work. Fuck, I forgot their names. It'll come to me later."