Page 132 of Wicked Nightmare

I didn't need to be told twice. My feet pounded against the damp earth. The weight of my bag full of stolen files pressed against my chest, a reminder of why we were here. For Janine. For answers.

As we ran, I kept Cam in my peripheral vision. His jaw was set, eyes focused ahead, but I knew he was hyper-aware of every movement around us. My sexy demon. He grounded me, made me push harder, go faster.

We reached the SUV, piling in with all the grace of a herd of drunk elephants. Kyle gunned the engine, tires squealing as we peeled away. Once we were a safe distance out, he pulled over into a secluded spot. The silence in the car was deafening, broken only by our ragged breathing.

I held onto my backpack, my fingers trembling slightly, turning white from the force of my grip. Not from fear, but from what we'd just done. What we'd seen.

"Jesus Christ," Sarah muttered. "Those kids... those babies..."

I closed my eyes, trying to block out the images of tiny bodies floating in tanks. It was fucked up, even by my standards.

"We got what we came for," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "Now we find Janine and do what we gotta do."

Kyle's eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. Something in his gaze I couldn't quite read. Respect? Wariness? Whatever it was, I knew we weren't done sizing each other up.

As the others started discussing our next move, I leaned into Cam, drawing strength from his solid presence. His arm came around me, his lips pressing against my head.

I turned my face upwards. "What's your read on Kyle? He didn't seem fazed by the bag babies. Doesn't feel like I trust him yet."

Cam's dark eyes glittered. "Trust? That's a strong word, sweetheart. But he's smart, resourceful, and hasn't done anything to show us he doesn't deserve it. Let's give him the benefit of the doubt for now. He probably saw some fucked shit in his lifetime. Bag babies might just be another thing, ya know?"

I nodded, my fingers tracing the C.A. tattoo on my wrist. Kyle was an unknown, and I fucking hated unknowns. They had a nasty habit of blowing up in your face when you least expected it. I'd lived a life of variables and that's why we'd kept to ourselves until now. Sure, he made good on one promise, but would he on the rest? Sarah was alright, as pissed as I was at her. Rose was basically a sparrow with a broken wing. But Kyle... either Kyle was genuine and time would tell, or he was in deep undercover mode trying to stir shit up.

"We need to stay on our toes," I murmured, watching Kyle's reflection in the side mirror. "One wrong move, or he stands in our way..."

Cam chuckled, biting at the top of my earlobe. "Yep." He ran his fingertip lightly over my throat before grabbing my hand and pressing a kiss into my palm.

"Everyone feeling good? Can we head out now?" Rose asked, fiddling with her gun. "I really just want to get out of here. Anywhere. Just far, far from this place."

I leaned across, taking the gun from her and pushing the safety on. "Yeah, Kyle, let's hit the road. I'm starvin'."

Chapter Thirty-Nine: Cam

We'd been driving for an hour in silence, and it was getting irritating. Sarah was wound so tight she could shit a diamond. She'd been going through the information on Kyle's phone, the stuff he'd downloaded from the lab computer. Kyle was being a dick and refused to turn on any music, so all we were listening to was the sound of his obnoxious fucking breathing.

"Alright, spit it out," I met her gaze through the rearview. "What's got your panties in a twist?"

Sarah's brow furrowed. "This facility... it's not just a breeding ground. It's an assembly line for compliant killers."

Lakey perked up at that, her interest peaked. "Ooh, do tell. I do love a good murder factory. The docs I read just said they were modifying them, not what they were for."

I snorted, but my amusement faded as Sarah laid out her theory. Words like "conditioning" and "behavioral modification" made my skin crawl. Flashes of white walls and sterile needles danced at the edges of my vision.

"Think about it," Sarah was saying, her voice steady but urgent. "The meticulous record-keeping, the genetic profiling. They're not just breeding the perfect bodies. They're engineering the perfect minds."

The van felt too small suddenly, closing in around me. I gripped the steering wheel tighter, knuckles white.

"Makes sense," Lakey chirped. "Can't have your pet assassins growing a conscience, can you?"

I wanted to tell her to shut up, but my throat was dry. The smell of antiseptic filled my nose, a phantom from another life.

Sarah's voice droned on, connecting dots I didn't want connected. "...selective breeding for certain traits, coupled with early indoctrination..."

A memory surfaced, digging into my brain, making me uncomfortable. Me, maybe six years old, strapped to a chair while men in white coats loomed over me. The sting of a needle, then darkness.

"Cam?" Lakey's voice cut through the fog. "You okay, baby? You look like you've seen a ghost."

I blinked, looking over at her with a wink, forcing a lazy grin. "Just admiring the view, sweetheart. Sarah's quite the detective, isn't she?"