Page 83 of Wicked Nightmare

"One step at a time, sweetheart," I said, keeping my tone light. "Let's focus on not getting our asses shot off first, yeah?"

Lakey's laugh was sharp and bright. "Yes, sir. Always looking out for my fine ass."

She turned and started rummaging through our chest of fun. Explosives, vests, guns. You name it we had it. Almost everything, anyway. We should grab night sight, and some other top tech items. Skeeter had a whole list of ways to recon at night, and we didn't have any of it. Problems for another day, I suppose.

"Hey, sugar tits," I called out, whistling to get her attention. "Don't forget the C4. Never know when we might need to make a big boom."

She flashed me that million-watt smile, all sweetness and light. "Already packed, darling. Right next to the chloroform and zip ties. Dunno why you want all this. We never bring this shit."

I chuckled. "You never know what we're gonna find. I have a feeling this is gonna be epic."

As she zipped the bag shut and slung it over her shoulder, I caught one last glimpse of the photograph on the table.

She knew something she wasn't telling me, and whatever was in those papers she'd shoved into her jacket and hadn't shown me, it was eating her alive.

Can’t be her kid. Just can’t be.

I'd get the truth out of her eventually. I always did, but for now, I'd let her hold it. Some things you have to carry alone before you're ready to share the weight.

Even if it scared the shit out of me.

With a sigh, I pushed that whole fucking mess into another box in my mind and shut the fucking lid.

Until I know for sure, that kid is just a distraction.

Chapter Twenty-Six: Lakey

The memories flooded me as we sped down the deserted highway.

Flashes of a swollen belly, aching breasts, tiny kicks from within. Then searing pain, blood-soaked sheets, hands ripping my baby away. My baby girl.

Doctors. So many men in white coats, stained with my blood. A nun. Anne? No, not Anne... someone else. God, why can't I see her face...

I gripped the steering tighter, knuckles white. Who was the father? I searched the foggy recesses of my mind but came up empty. Fucking blank. My body wasn't recoiling, it wasn't reacting. I wasn't raped... something else. It's right there, why can't I reach it?

"You okay, doll?" Cam's deep voice cut through my headphones, interrupting my spiraling thoughts.

I grimaced underneath my helmet. "Oh, I'm great. Thinking about all the fun we're gonna have."

He slowed to match my bike's pace and turned his head. "Okay, baby, if you say so."

The dilapidated orphanage loomed before us, a decrepit monstrosity of crumbling brick and shattered windows. We pulled into the parking lot and slowed. I killed the engine, and dread tightened in my gut. This place... I knew it somehow.

We approached the building, gravel crunching under our boots. The stench of decay and mildew made me wrinkle my nose. A rusted sign creaked in the wind: "St. Mary's Orphanage." God, why are all these places named so pretentiously? Who the fuck were all these saints, because so far, I've not met a single one.

My gaze was drawn to the cracked concrete steps. For a split second, I saw a little girl with pigtails sitting there, knees pulled to her chest. She looked up at me with blue eyes. My eyes.

What the fuck? I shook my head, trying to dislodge the image.

Cam's large hand enveloped mine, squeezing gently. "Ready, babe?"

I grinned up at him, pushing away the gnawing unease. "You know it, handsome. Let's go find some answers."

As we ascended the steps, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was walking into my own personal nightmare. That somehow this place was my childhood story. Why couldn't I access the memories? Why was so much of my life just a large black hole?

Sure, the 'experts' say childhood trauma causes you to black out memories, but considering I hardly had a soul, why would mine be empty? It was as if I didn't exist before I got thrust into foster homes.

We stepped into the orphanage, the floorboards groaning beneath our weight. The air inside was thick and musty, making me sneeze. Cam chuckled and said, "bless you" and I rolled my eyes at him. Yeah. Bless me indeed. I scanned the dimly lit interior, taking in every detail.