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She had to bite back a smile as Spike growled at the doctor. She’d gotten used to Hack’s ways. He came across as carefree and irreverent. But he cared deeply about his patients. He crouched down in front of her.

“Right, Miss Millie,” he said, giving her a firm look. “You’re going to follow all of my rules, yeah?”

“She will,” Spike replied.

“Don’t push too far too fast. Rest. Let the big guy do all the hard work, yeah?”

“Yes. Thank you, Hack. For everything.”

“Hey, you’re talking like we won’t see each other again. I’ll be over for Sunday lunch, yeah?”

“No,” Spike told him.

He pressed his hand to his chest. “Cuts deep, that does.”

She giggled and he quickly kissed her cheek and jumped up, moving away with a whistle before Spike could say anything.

With a grumble, Spike started pushing her wheelchair down the corridor again. While she might miss seeing Hack, she wasn’t going to miss being in the hospital.

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, they pulled up to his gate. She was exhausted. Her body covered in a fine sheen of sweat. She wanted a bath. She wanted sleep. She wanted drugs.

Not necessarily in that order.

“Bastards,” Spike muttered as he drove up the driveway. She looked at him, startled. Then she spotted a black sports car sitting outside the front of the house.

“Who’s here?”

“Steele and Grady. Knew I’d regret giving them the alarm code. They got me in a weak moment. Said they wanted to do something for you.” He sighed. “I’ll get rid of them quickly.”

He pulled into the garage then came around and undid her seatbelt, carefully lifting her out. “I’ll take you upstairs then get rid of them.”

“I’d like to say hello. And I have some questions for them.”

He grumbled something under his breath. “I don’t want them upsetting you.”

“They won’t upset me.” Then she got it. “You think talking about being shot will upset me.”

“It should. But this is you. I don’t know what you do with all of your fear and anger, but I plan on figuring it out.”

“Maybe I’m just weird and don’t feel things like normal people.”

He gave her a look like he knew she was full of shit.

Spike walked into the house with her in his arms. Instead of going up the stairs, he turned towards the kitchen. “You can be up for twenty minutes, no longer. Then you’re going to bed.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

When he carried her into the kitchen and living area, Damon was standing at the stove, stirring something.

Grady was seated at the counter, sipping from a glass of red wine and watching Damon. He turned with a smile.

“My dear, you’re here. Finally, we can see you. Spike has been very selfish, keeping you all to himself.”

“Hello, Grady,” she said.

Damon flicked off the stove and turned, wiping his hands on a towel. “Sweetheart, how are you?” He came over and brushed his hand over her forehead.


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