32
Millie help me.
Help me.
Why won’t you help me?
“Millie? Millie, wake up.”
She opened her eyes on a gasp, looking up into a pair of strangely familiar eyes. They were a deep emerald color. Unusual. Long sooty lashes surrounded them.
“So pretty. Jealous.”
“Millie? You all right?” the owner of those pretty eyes asked her. She shied back, groaning as pain lanced her, engulfing her arm and shoulder.
“Easy, princess. Easy. Don’t hurt yourself,” pretty eyes said. He held his hands up in a placating gesture. He was dressed in a pair of jeans and a button-up flannel shirt.
“Who are you?”
“I’m Doctor Anderson.”
This wa
s Doctor Anderson?
“No way,” she scoffed. He didn’t look like a doctor with that beard and his casual clothes.
“I assure you I am. You can call me Hack, though. Or rabbit.”
“Why would I call you rabbit?”
“Why indeed.”
“Rabbit is kind of a strange nickname.” Then again so was Hack. Especially for a doctor. How had he gotten that nickname? And did she really want to know?
“Tell me, how many rabbits does Mr. Spain actually hit?”
“Oh, none. He’s a terrible shot.”
Wait.
“How did you know about Mr. Spain?” she asked suspiciously. Who was this guy? How did he know about her neighbor shooting rabbits? Or trying to.
Like she’d said, he wasn’t very good. Just as well since she loved bunnies.
“You talk in your sleep.”
“I do not,” she said, outraged. And horrified. What had she said? “Wait, where’s Spike?” The drugs must be messing her up not to have noticed that he wasn’t here. Panic flooded her. Where was he?
“Millie? Millie, it’s okay. He’ll be here soon.”
She shook her head. “No. Where is he?”
“Shit. Calm down, sweetie. It’s okay. He’ll be here soon.”
Tears dripped down her face. She needed her Daddy. She was alone in a strange place. She was in pain. And sure, maybe the drugs were messing her up a bit, but she was scared.
“I want him.”