Page 133 of Wicked Nightmare

But inside, my mind was reeling. What if I wasn't the self-made monster I'd always believed? What if someone else had their fingers in my brain, molding me into their perfect weapon? Maybe, if they'd have left me alone, I'd have been able to accomplish those short-term dreams I'd had as a child. Back when I was innocent, and blood hadn't stained my hands.

The thought made me want to put my fist through something. Or someone.

"So, what's the plan?" I asked, desperate to focus on anything else. "We storming the castle, or what?"

Sarah's eyes met mine again, determination blazing. "We need to debrief and rest. But yeah, eventually? We're going to destroy them. And that is where you two come in." She smiled as if she'd just said the kindest thing in the world.

I bit back a retort and nodded instead. At least the thrill of violence threading through me felt real. Felt like me.

"Now you're speaking my language," Lakey snuggled closer. Her warmth grounded me, pushing out the memories that were trying to fill in the gaps.

Whatever they'd done to me in that place, they couldn't touch this. Lakey was mine, and I was hers. Everything else could stay buried in the fucking dark, but I wouldn't let those ghosts destroy us. I couldn't.

Rose's voice cut through my dark thoughts, soft but edged with steel. "I... I think I remember a place like that. I mean, the one we just came from. Not clearly, but..." She trailed off, her eyes going distant.

Rose was a mystery, all wide-eyed innocence one minute and kick-ass nut when triggered. Kind of reminded me of Lakey, if I'm being honest. Well, back when we were kids. Before I went to juvie. She was tough, but she still held an air of hope around her. After I was convicted, everything changed. That small piece of her that still held the innocence of a child had died, and in its place, a cold-blooded killer stood.

"It's okay, Rose," Sarah murmured, reaching back to touch her arm. "Take your time."

Rose flinched at the contact, then forced herself to relax. "There were... white walls. The smell of blood. And pain. So much pain."

Lakey tensed against me, her fingers digging into my thigh. I knew that look in her eyes. She was imagining all the ways she could make those responsible suffer.

"But that can't be right," Rose continued, her voice gaining strength. "I had a family. A real one. I remember... I remember my mom's laugh, my dad's stupid jokes. That has to be real. It has to be. Besides, babies don't have memories, right? That's what they say in those textbooks. No pain, no memories. Just a blank slate. Tabula Rasa."

There was a twinge in my chest. Envy? Pity? Hell if I knew. "Maybe you do have real memories," I found myself saying. "Maybe they took you later."

Rose's eyes snapped to mine, a flicker of hope amid the turmoil. "You think so?"

I shrugged, uncomfortable with the question. I didn't fucking know, but I didn't want her to feel whatever she was feeling right now. "Fuck if I know. But if they did, we'll find out. And then we'll make 'em pay."

Lakey giggled. "Oh yes." She reached around me to grab Rose's hand, squeezing tightly. "We'll paint the walls red with their blood."

Sarah rolled her eyes at our antics but there was no real exasperation behind it. She knew what we were by now, knew the monsters that lurked beneath our skin. And yet, here she was, still fighting alongside us.

Maybe we were all a little fucked up. Maybe, by slumming it with us, we gave her permission to untie her panties and give some murder a go. I'm sure she'd find it quite freeing.

As conversation faded around me, my mind started to drift. My ears started ringing, painful and loud. The cramped interior of the car seemed to melt away, replaced by echoing voices, blood splattered everywhere. My blood? Fuck. Not now.

I clenched my jaw, fighting against the flood of memories. But they came anyway, disjointed flashes that made my skin crawl.

The cold bite of metal restraints.

The sting of a needle.

A voice: "Patient Y is responding well to the treatment."

I blinked hard, forcing myself back to the present. My fists were clenched so tight my knuckles had gone white. Lakey was eyeing me, her hand back on my thigh.

"You okay there, babe?" she murmured, low enough that only I could hear.

I managed a tight nod, not trusting my voice. My throat felt raw, like I'd been screaming. Had I? Christ, I hoped not.

Sarah was talking, her words a distant buzz in my ears. I focused on Lakey's touch, on the warmth of her hand against my leg. It was real. This was real. Not those fucked-up memories of needles and pain and—

"Cam?" Sarah's voice cut through the haze. "Cam?"

I plastered on my most charming smile, ignoring the way it felt like shattered glass in my mouth. "Mmhmm. What?" I still couldn't see, blinders over my eyes as I fought to come back to myself. Dissociation was a bitch, especially when you're in a car with people you don't particularly trust.