Protector Daddy

by Roberts, Laylah

  “What?” Spike frowned and turned to him.

  “Oh, so you were listening? I thought you had tuned me out completely.”

  “What do you want?” Spike asked, irritably.

  “She’s beautiful. I don’t blame you for not being able to take your eyes off her. She reminds me of Jacqui in some ways.”

  “She’s nothing like Jacqui.”

  “Not in looks or temperament perhaps. But there’s something about her . . . maybe that’s why I didn’t try harder to get her to come home with me. Because there’s something that reminds me of Jacqui.”

  Jacqui had been slight, but feisty. Strong, but somewhat broken inside. She’d been everything to him.

  “She’s not a replacement of Jacqui. What’s between Millie and me is temporary.”

  “Does she know that?”

  “She does.”

  “Hmm, because the way she looks at you . . .”

  “What do you want to talk about?” he asked abruptly.

  Damon studied him closely. “You’re not betraying Jacqui’s memory by falling in love with someone else. She wouldn’t want you to be alone, you know.”

  Spike scoffed. “Jesus, if that’s what you drew me over here to talk about then let me put your mind at ease. I don’t love her. I never will. I still love my wife.”

  Suddenly, he realized that his words were too loud. He glanced over to see Grady glaring at him with anger and reproach in his eyes. He forced himself to look at Millie. A flash of pain flooded her face before it was gone, hidden behind a cool mask he’d never seen her wear before.

  And one he really didn’t like.

  “Millie . . .” he started with no idea what to say.

  A knock on the door interrupted them.

  Grady walked over to open the door, still scowling at Spike.

  He got it. He’d fucked up. He tried to catch her gaze but she wouldn’t even look at him. Shit.

  Mitchell, who managed Pinkies, stood on the other side. He was an older man. Slim-built and dressed in a suit. But he ran Pinkies like a well-oiled machine. Normally. Spike was surprised that asshole from the Devil’s Sinners had gotten past Mitchell’s bouncers.

  “Mitchell, come in,” Grady invited.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” he said. “Damon, wonder if I could borrow you for a moment.”

  “Sure. Mitchell, this is Millie. She’s the one who stepped in to help Tawny the other night when that asshole tried to take her.”

  Mitchell held out a hand to Millie who shook it with a small smile. “So nice to meet you. I apologize for all that unpleasantness. I still feel guilty that Devil’s Sinners bastard somehow snuck his way in here. He used the back entrance. Unfortunately, the door hadn’t been shut properly. I’d love to have a few minutes with him.”

  “We’ll find him,” Steele said. “But you’ll have to wait until Spike’s had his turn. There might not be much left.”

  Damn right there wouldn’t be.

  Mitchell’s gaze turned to Mr. Fluffy. “Is that a puppy?”

  “Oh yes, that’s Mr. Fluffy. I’m sorry if he’s not allowed in here. He gets separation anxiety if left alone.”

  Mitchell blinked at her. “Of course. That’s fine. What kind of puppy is he?”

  “I’m not sure, I found him in an alleyway. We have to take him to a vet.”

  Mitchell walked over and sat next to Mr. Fluffy, who ignored him. He ran a finger over his head, patting him. “Very cute. Are you going to keep him? I’d gladly take him off your hands. He reminds me of the dog I had as a child.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Yes, I am going to keep him. I’m far too attached to him now.”

  Spike could tell she felt bad for Mitchell.

  “Maybe you could go to the pound and find another one?”

  “Maybe,” he replied, standing.

  “Let’s go,” Damon said.

  Damon left with Mitchell and Spike watched as Millie turned to look out the window, her shoulders tense.

  Fucking hell. How did he fix this?

  * * *

  Millie stared out the window, trying to keep her composure. She was all too aware that Spike was only a few feet away.

  I don’t love her. I never will.

  God. That hurt. So much.

  “Millie, we need to talk,” Spike said.

  She tensed. Talk about what?

  Pull yourself together.

  I don’t love her and I never will.

  She’d known going into this that it wasn’t going to turn into a great love story. He’d made that clear. So why was she so hurt?

  His words had clawed their way deep. Tearing holes in her heart.

  Because you already fell in love with him, that’s why. Idiot.

  She watched as one guy stood up from the table, his phone in his hand, texting. She frowned. There was something familiar about him.

  “Millie? Are you all right?” Grady asked.

  No. Of course she wasn’t.

  “I’ll take care of her,” Spike snapped, coming up to stand on her other side.

  Right. Breaking her heart was taking care of her really well.

  Not fair, Millie.

  She took a deep breath in, studying the guy. “That guy there, the one standing . . . he kind of looks familiar.”

  Both men tensed.

  “You think he could be the guy from the alleyway the other night?” Grady asked, bringing out his phone.

  “Maybe. I need to see his face, can we go down there?”

  “No,” Spike said abruptly.

  She let out a sigh. “He never saw me.”

  “She’ll be perfectly safe,” Grady added. “This place is filled with Steele’s guys. No way he could get to her, even if he did know who she was. You can wait up here.”

  “No fucking way.” Spike took hold of her hand. He grabbed Mr. Fluffy, holding him in his other arm. She didn’t pull away, despite knowing she probably should. She should put some distance between them, like he’d been doing all this time.

  Foolish her, letting her heart get involved.

  But she let him lead her out of the room and down the stairs. Grady followed. They walked into the room and towards the bar. She was sandwiched between the two men.

  As they stood at the bar, watching. The man turned and headed towards them.

  “It’s him,” she said hoarsely. She didn’t know why but her heart started racing. Hard. He didn’t know who she was. There was no reason to be afraid.

  His gaze slid over her, no hint of recognition on his face. He gave a nod to Grady, who nodded back.

  “Damon is going to be pissed,” Grady said as the man settled in at the other end of the bar. They slowly strolled away to a quieter area. “His name is Regan Jones. He’s been with us for two years.” Grady drew out his phone and tapped off a message.

  “That could mean Fergus planted him if he’s working for the Bartolli’s,” Spike said, his gaze roaming the room.

  Grady made a sound of agreement. “I’ve got to go speak to Steele.”

  “I’m taking Millie home.”

  Grady narrowed his gaze at him. “Steele will want to speak to her.”

  “I still need to talk to Damon about Luther,” she whispered. She wanted to make sure that Steele didn’t forget his promise to take care of him.

  “Another night,” Spike said. “I have a bad feeling. Let’s go.”

  She gave Spike an exasperated look. To her shock, Grady drew her close.

  “He didn’t mean what he said,” he whispered to her. “He’s scared.”

  Spike, scared? Yeah, right.

  Spike pulled her away from Grady, glaring at the other man as he slid his arm around her waist. Then without a word to Grady, he led her away.

  “That was rude,” she told him.

  He just grunted.

  “We should have said goodbye to Damon.”

  He was silent as he led them outside. They were nearly at his truck, when someone called out his name from t
he club. Turning, they both saw Damon standing there.

  “Spike! Talk to you a minute?”

  Sighing, he turned to her. She shivered slightly. “If you give me the keys, I’ll hop in.”

  He just gave her a look and beeped the truck open. He walked over to open the door, but she paused, turning to give Damon a wave good night.

  As she turned, the sound of tires squealing caught her attention.

  She looked over as a car screeched down the street. Mr. Fluffy started barking.

  “Spike!” Damon roared.

  “Millie!” Spike yelled.

  It felt like everything was in slow motion. Steele raced towards her, a look of horror and fear on his face.

  There was a rat-a-tat noise then something lodged in her shoulder. Pain screamed through her as something heavy slammed into her, pushing her to the ground.

  She screamed. Or she thought she did. She wasn’t sure. There was a lot of noise. The sound of her heartbeat drowned everything else out. Her arm was burning, like her skin was being flayed straight from her.

  Struggling for breath, she lay on the ground, wondering what was lying on top of her. Too heavy. Get off.

  Did she say the words or just imagine them?

  She tried to wiggle free but whatever it was held her tighter.

  Black circles appeared in her vision.

  Oh shit. Was she getting a migraine?

  Then all other thoughts fled from her mind as darkness overtook her.

  31

  What was that beeping noise?

  It was so annoying.

  “Sorry, princess,” a male voice said to her. “But the beeping is a good thing. It tells us you’re alive.”

  She tried to open her eyes, but it was all blurry. The only thing she could see was a giant rabbit standing over her.

  “Go away, rabbit. Shoo.”

  There was silence.

  “Rabbit, huh?” he asked, sounding amused. “First time I’ve been called a rabbit.”

  “Shh. I’m sleeping.”

  “Sorry, princess, please, go back to sleep.”

  “I would if you’d stop with all your jibber-jabber.”

  “I don’t think rabbits jibber-jabber,” the rabbit replied.

  She drifted off.

  * * *

  Millie forced her way through the fog.

  Help me, Millie. Help me.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “What do you have to be sorry for, princess? Calling me a rabbit? I will accept bribes of beer and pot roast as an apology.”

  She glared up at the giant rabbit. So annoying. “Are you still here? Shoo rabbit. Before Mr. Spain shoots you.”

  “And why would he shoot me?”

  “For getting into Mrs. Spain’s garden.” How did he not know this? “Silly rabbit.”

  “Why is she talking like this?” a gravelly voice asked, one that sent a shiver along her skin.

  “It’s the drugs. They affect people differently,” the rabbit said soothingly.

  “Silly rabbit, thinks he’s a doctor.” She turned to the gravelly voice. “Shoot him.”

  “So bloodthirsty,” the rabbit said. “I thought you said she likes animals.”

  * * *

  Millie woke up with a dry mouth and a need to move. Her entire body ached. She tried to sit up. She cried out in pain as she put weight on her arm. What the hell?

  “What are you doing?” a deep voice barked. Then gentle hands eased her back onto the bed. “Easy, baby. Lie still.”

  “W-what’s going on?” She blinked to clear her vision and stared up into Spike’s concerned face. “You look terrible.”

  He had dark marks under his eyes. There was a few days growth on his cheeks and his clothes were rumpled. Glancing around the strange room, worry flooded her.

  “This isn’t your bedroom. Where are we?”

  “Hospital.”

  “Hospital? Why are we in the hospital? Did I have a bad migraine?”

  “Your migraines often get that bad?”

  “It’s happened a few times,” she prevaricated. “What happened? Why can’t I move my arm? The last thing I remember . . .” she trailed off. “Leaving Pinkies and someone came screaming up in a black car . . .”

  Her heart started to race and she whimpered.

  “Easy, baby. You’re getting too stressed.”

  He placed his hand on hers. Why was she here? All she remembered was pain in her arm, then she was slammed to the ground . . . had she hurt herself?

  The door to her room opened and an older woman wearing scrubs stepped in. A nurse.

  “Hi, what’s going on in here, then?” She gave Spike a look of disapproval as she walked over to Millie’s other side. “It’s past visiting hours, Mr. Lochlin.”

  “And like every other night, I’m not leaving,” Spike replied.

  Every other night? How long had she been here?

  The nurse huffed as she grabbed a compression cuff and put it on Millie’s arm to take her blood pressure.

  “Being friends with Doctor Anderson might get you special privileges,” the nurse stated coldly. “But if your presence is upsetting my patient, then you will have to leave.”

  She had no clue who Doctor Anderson was. But she did know she didn’t want Spike to go.

  “I want Spike to stay,” she blurted out.

  The nurse gave her a look filled with sympathy. “Are you sure, dear? Your blood pressure is high. You were shot. You lost quite a lot of blood and your body went into shock. You need peace and quiet to heal. Not to be upset.” The nurse sent Spike a withering look.

  She’d been shot? Holy shit.

  “Shot?”

  “In the shoulder. You had surgery to repair it and the doctor will go through everything tomorrow. Drive-by shooting apparently.”

  “The people in the black car?” she asked Spike who just gave a nod. She guessed he didn’t want to say anything with the nurse here.

  “I want him to stay. Please.”

  “Fine. He can stay tonight. But after that he’ll have to stick to visiting hours.”

  Spike made a low, grumbling noise and she thought it might be best to get the nurse out of his sight.

  “Can I have a drink?”

  “Certainly.” The nurse grabbed a clear jug from the table by the bed and poured some water into a glass with a straw.

  She wrinkled her nose as the nurse held the straw up to her mouth. Water. Yuck.

  “She hates that water. I have some for her here.” Spike grabbed a bottle from the bedside drawers. The nurse gave him a disgusted look. The water was pale pink.

  Spike just glared back at the nurse then gently pushed away the straw before holding the bottle up to Millie’s mouth. She took a few grateful gulps.

  The nurse huffed. “I’ll leave you to sleep. Here is the button for more medication if you need it. Don’t worry, it won’t give you more than you’re allowed. This here is the buzzer to call me. I’ll be on until morning.”

  “How long do I have to stay here?” she asked.

  “You’ll need to discuss that with the doctor. You were very lucky that the bullet only entered your shoulder, too much lower and it could have gotten your heart. Get some rest.”

  Once they were alone, Millie turned to look at Spike.

  “Who the hell shot me?”

  Fuck.

  Spike ran his hand over his face. He’d barely slept in days. Just nodded off now and then. He’d only slipped into the bathroom attached to her private room for a quick shower when Hack was able to sit with her. Ink had arranged round-the-clock security for her, but he didn’t trust anyone but those in his close circle. Spike was just grateful Hack did some work in the hospital and was able to get himself assigned as her doctor.

  Christ, how was he ever going to let her out of his sight again?

  He couldn’t.

  Over and over, it kept playing in his mind. The car screeching around the corner. Something sticking out the window. />
  Steele’s horrified shout.

  The realization that they were being shot at.

  Diving for Millie and tackling her to the ground.

  Too. Fucking. Late.

  He’d nearly lost her. Like Jacqui. He couldn’t do this. Could he? Fuck. This is why he was supposed to stop himself from feeling anything.

  But he’d never expected her to nearly die.

  “Spike? Are you all right? Spike?”

  His breath came in sharp, shallow pants. The world spun around him.

  Fuck. Get it under control, man.

  “Spike! I’ll call the nurse.”

  “No!” he said sharply. “No. I’m fine.” He forced his gaze back to hers. Tears were dripping down her cheeks and he quickly moved closer to her, wiping them away. “What’s wrong? Are you hurting? Where is it sore? Press the button.”

  He picked up the pain relief button, giving it to her.

  “It’s not that. It’s you. Are you sure you’re okay? You look so upset.”

  Shit. Fuck. He was supposed to be keeping her calm and here he was scaring the shit out of her. He cupped her face between his hands. “I’m fine, baby doll. I’m all right. Just worried as fuck about you.”

  “What happened? Who shot me? Was it a random drive-by?”

  He sighed. “It was the Devil’s Sinners.”

  “What?”

  “After you were shot, I stayed with you. Waiting for the ambulance.” And trying hard not to lose it. Even though he’d wanted to roar in pain, thinking she was going to die. “Some of Steele’s guys gave chase, but it was too late. They couldn’t catch up to them.”

  “What makes you think it was the Devil’s Sinners then?”

  “Steele caught a look at the shooter. It was that asshole, Corey.”

  “Oh God. He tried to kill me? Really?”

  “I should never have let you go to Pinkies that night. I should have kept you home.”

  Where she would’ve been fucking safe. As soon as she was well enough to leave the hospital, he was taking her home and keeping her there.

  Forever.

  Shit. Fuck.

  “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known.” She frowned. “How did he know that I was there or was it all just a coincidence?”