Page 26 of Wicked Nightmare

Without Regret, Lakey

Chapter Nine: Cam

Finding Skeeter was more difficult than I anticipated. Bugger was slippery as fuck, but it was nothing that a few bills to the right people couldn't solve. And soon I was standing inside the lobby of a greasy motel, just waiting. Word had it that he had breached probation. Gone near some old ladies or something.

I didn't even know that could be a condition of release, but here we were. He'd fled his group home and was hiding out with four other sick fucks. Probably all circle jerk to pictures of Aunt Edna baking cookies or some shit.

Fucking reprobates.

In he walked with his beady little eyes darting all over the place before finally landing on me, lounging on the cum-stained couch in front of the elevators. He tried to bolt, but I was faster. It was hard to run when you're a fat fuck, I guess.

"Oh... oh shit. Cam... please... I can explain..."

I threw my arm around him with a friendly smile, though something told me he didn't find it all that comforting when his face went white. "Ohhhhh, shhhh, Skeets. Shhhh."

"Please, Cam. I promise..." He was trembling as I led him down the hall and out the fire exit.

"Now, now. Don't cause a scene. We're just gonna have a chat. Where's your car?"

He shook his head vigorously.

"I'm not going to ask again." I smiled down at him, tightening my hold on the back of his shirt.

"I had to sell it! That's what I'm saying, I have a legitimate reason why—"

"Fine." I pushed him towards an old Camry. "Pop it and jump start. This will have to do." Scanning the car for alarms, I was pleased to note that it didn't even have license plates. Probably abandoned.

He did as he was told and within minutes, the door was open, the engine struggled to life and he was standing, waiting for his next order. Fucking perfect.

"Driver's seat, Skeeter. I'm in the mood for some smooth tunes on our little ride to nowhere."

"Pl—"

"Shhh, baby boy." I slapped his face before squeezing his cheeks, making his lips puff out in a kiss. I pushed him into the driver's seat before closing the door and rushing around to the passenger side. "Alright. Head towards the cliffs, good sir!"

God, I was in such a good mood, despite the fact that this lying sack of shit had only given us accurate information on one of the people I'd asked him to find. Ed was dead. The Almines were still ghosts. And Skeeter had the audacity to look scared when he should have been looking grateful that I hadn't let Lakey get to him first.

"Keep going. Stick to the speed limit. We're just two friends going for a drive."

Skeeter's hands were slick on the steering wheel. I could see the sweat on his knuckles, the way his fingers kept readjusting their grip. He thought he was going to die. He might be right. Depended on what came out of his mouth in the next hour.

The city thinned out as we drove. Buildings gave way to scrubland, scrubland gave way to coastal brush, and the road narrowed into the two-lane stretch that wound toward the cliffs. I'd driven this road a hundred times. Lakey had driven it more. This was her place. The cliff, the barrel, the ocean below that swallowed everything we fed it and never asked questions. Twenty-seven bodies at the bottom of that water, give or take whatever the current had carried away. Fish food. Crab bait. The ocean was the most efficient partner we'd ever had.

I texted Lakey: Bringing a guest. Cliff. 20 min.

Her response was immediate: Already here. Brought snacks.

Snacks. My girl packed snacks for an interrogation. I loved this woman with every corroded piece of my soul.

The drive felt long as fuck, but soon he was parked at the bottom of the cliffs. He stepped out and had a fleeting thought to run, if his demeanor was anything to go by. Good thing he straightened out and decided not to. It'd be boring to kill him right here.

"Come on, we got a bit of a walk up to the top." He walked slowly in front of me, huffing and puffing like he was a two pack a day smoker. "Damn, Skeets. Gotta work on your cardio. How the hell did you survive prison?"

He turned even more red than he already was and refused to look at me.

"Ooooh. You were the bottom, weren't you?"

He stopped and faced me, poking me in the chest with his sweaty little finger. "Shut the fuck up, Cameron. Don't think I don't know what you did in prison to survive. Pretty boy like you? Fucking jailbait."