Page 3 of Wicked Nightmare

"Late night?"

Her eyebrow quirked. "Whatever are you implying?"

"You've got blood on your sleeve, Lakes." Pointing to her t-shirt, I smirked. “Obviously Dani is dead, but it’s unlike you to be sloppy… so what were you doing at the gas station?”

"Well, fuck." She looked down at her sleeve and then back at me, completely unbothered. "I was in a rush. Sue me."

"You could at least check before you walk into a public establishment, Lakes."

"Oh, I'm sorry, did my murder outfit not meet your dress code standards? Should I have accessorized?" She grabbed a sugar packet, tore it open with her teeth and dumped the entire thing into her coffee. Then another one. Then a third. She stirred it with the handle of her butter knife and take a long sip. "Anyway, it's your fault."

"How the fuck is it my fault?"

"You used my soap again. I was distracted thinking about it because I didn’t have enough to wash my hands after dumping Dani and therefore I ruminated on it for the next two hours. TWO HOURS, Cam."

"I did not use your soap."

"Cameron, the bottle was lighter. I weigh my soap."

"You weigh your soap."

"I weigh my soap." She said it with the same tone someone would use to say they check the weather. No irony. No awareness that weighing soap was unhinged behavior. That was Lakey. She could slit a throat at dawn, weigh her soap, and still make it to breakfast on time. The ADHD brain was a hell of a thing when it was paired with zero moral compass and a body count.

I loved this woman with every rotten thing inside me.

Before we could discuss it any further, Trixie returned with our food. She looked back and forth between us, her brow furrowed as she noticed the energy shifting.

"You two lovebirds having a spat?"

Lakey looked forlorn, full of despair even. It took everything in me not to burst out laughing. "Our first fight. It was as bad as you'd think."

"Aw, don't let it ruin the day. This one's on me."

"Thanks, Trixie."

After she left, Lakes leaned in. "Okay… fine. I killed someone at the gas station."

“Why?”

She rolled her eyes, “Do I always need a reason?”

“Sort of… you’re the one who made the rules.”

“Fine. Some bitch named Brinley, according to her name tag.”

“…and? What did Brinley do?”

She took a long gulp of her coffee before gesturing with her knife. “Right, so I was in the middle of shopping when I heard her take a phone call, right?”

“Go on.”

“And I heard her talking to this other girl that she called Kristen. Basically they were setting up this girl for a crime she didn’t commit. I don’t really know the specifics, but she laughed and said that they should set her up and file a report against her, get her arrested. Said they can easily fabricate evidence if they have the same story.”

I took a sip of my coffee, my eyebrow raised. “Really? That seems odd, why would they do that?”

She shrugged, “How the fuck am I supposed to know, Cam? Why does anyone do anything? People are rotten to their core, but I didn’t think it was very nice of her to try set someone up for something they didn’t do.”

“And then?”