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But she couldn’t. She really couldn’t.
Millie paced up and down the waiting room. What was going on? Where was Spike?
A sob escaped her and she wiped at her cheeks.
“Millie?”
She glanced over to see Damon stepping into the waiting room, his face pale and worried.
She ran at him and he caught her, his arm under her ass as he lifted her into his arms and held her cradled against his chest.
“It’s all right. You’re okay.”
“I’m not. I’m not. Spike . . .” His name was a cry on her lips. Filled with pain and fear.
“Do we know anything yet?” Damon asked.
“Stupid doctors tell us nothing,” Andrey said. His accent grew thicker when he was upset.
After Reverend Pat answered her phone and discovered that Spike was in the hospital after a car accident, he and Andrey had brought her here to the hospital while the others stayed behind to tell everyone who arrived what had happened. And to take care of Mr. Fluffy.
Andrey had driven them here, while Reverend Pat had called Damon.
“I’ll go find out what is going on,” Damon said darkly, setting her down on a chair. “You stay here, sweetheart.”
Uh-oh.
When Damon got that look, someone was going to get an earful.
Or worse.
“Do not bother,” Andrey told him bitterly. “I threaten them many times. With bodily harm. With cutting of the balls. Choking of the cock. They just stare at me as if I not speak English.” He started muttering insults in Russian. “They not know who they deal with. I strangle them until their eyes pop from their sockets.”
“Damon,” she whispered.
“I’ll find out. Don’t worry. And I’ll keep them from calling the cops on him.” He nodded toward Andrey.
“The police do not scare me!” Andrey cried.
Reverend Pat sighed and walked over to talk some sense into Andrey while she sat there anxiously. It seemed to take Damon forever to return. Her phone was buzzing with messages from her friends and their men. But she just couldn’t talk to anyone.
When Damon finally came back, she jumped to her feet. The room swayed around her.
Oh God. She was going to be sick. Or faint.
She wasn’t sure which.
“Fuck, Millie.” She was gathered up against Damon’s chest. “It’s all right, sweetheart. He’s going to be all right. They were doing an MRI on him. I don’t know why no one would talk to you, but I think the doctor wanted to check the results before coming to speak to you. The doctor will be here soon.”
“He . . . he’s alive.”
“Of course he is. Do you think a car accident is going to kill him off? He’s too stubborn to die. That bastard has nine lives.”
She appreciated his attempts to lighten the situation, but the truth was that she felt too upset to smile.
A noise had her turning, tears filling her eyes once more as they all arrived. Sunny and Duke. Jason and Jewel. Betsy and Ink.
They kept coming, filling the room.
