5. Millie

5

MILLIE

I hold my wrist like it's my new safety blanket. I'm trying to protect it from getting more damaged. It's throbbing, aching, burning, and there's nothing I can do to relieve the pain. The driver speeds, and every time we hit a bump, I whimper—pure agony.

I need a damn doctor .

I don't know what the fuck is going on. Where I am or who I'm with. I don't have my pepper spray on me—nothing to defend myself with. I'm kidnapped just to get kidnapped again by a man they call Drago . My heart thumps with adrenaline and fear. I can feel it in the base of my throat with each thud, and my chest tightens.

I'm on the verge of a panic attack. My dad is probably worried sick out of his mind. He always waits for me to get home to go to sleep.

Where is Hayden Drago taking me? Is he going to kill me? Thoughts begin to swirl about not seeing my family again. I don't want to die just yet. There's so much more I want to do. I never got to travel to Europe. Alaska …

I never thought I would be kidnapped. Hell, I never believed vampires existed. What I saw in that room when Hayden burst through those doors were things that wouldn't even appear in my worst nightmares. The way they snarled at each other's throats. The sound of blood splattered across the walls and floor when they were fighting. I can confirm that these horrors of trauma are engraved into me for the rest of my life.

There's no way I can sleep again, knowing these monsters exist in this world. The way their eyes turned from ordinary to vibrant colors when their vicious, sharp teeth would flash outside their mouths like rabid creatures. I tap my leg up and down and fidget with my fingers.

I'm shaking uncontrollably, my breathing shifts into deep, fast breaths, and tears flow down my cheeks. I look out the window, trying to hide my face from the strangers in the vehicle. I'm breaking down.

"Let me go home. I'm not supposed to be here. Please," I beg, watching the night sky through the tinted window.

Hayden chuckles. I turn towards him and glare. He throws his head back, still laughing. His mouth opens, entertained by my cries and pain. His teeth are displayed, and I can't help but notice how perfectly white and straight they are—his Adam's apple bobs with each husky laugh. The street lights shine against the giant ring on his middle finger. There's a snake wrapped around a bat engraved into it with words below, but I can't tell what they are.

What's so damn funny? How can my situation make him smile? As impatience and anger riddle my blood, my emotions get the best of me. I clench my one hand that isn't broken into a fist and narrow my brown eyes at his dashing face.

"You're sick. You're just like them, aren't you?" I seethe with venom, hoping he catches my off-putting tone. I'm going to die, but I might as well go out the way I want to. I'm still unafraid to speak my mind.

Hayden slowly stops laughing; he tilts his chin toward me, opens his eyes, and changes his face. Time stands still for a moment. His eyes are dark red again; the beautiful, mesmerizing sky blue is gone. Disdain in his iris, and it feels like he's burning a hole straight through me with just that look.

Before I can blink, his hand grabs my broken wrist tight enough to make me scream. What the hell? A few minutes ago, it felt like he was on my team, and now it's like I'm his victim. With my other hand, I claw at his skin, digging my nails to try to loosen his hand, but to no avail.

"Watch your words, Bambi. You're still alive because I'm allowing it," his deep voice growls. A sharp sob escapes me as I try to make him stop, but nothing works.

"Or I'll shut you up with my cock. By the time I'm done using you, your throat will be so bruised from my fucking…you won't be able to say the word please ever again," he dares as he smirks like he's already picturing his dick in my mouth. The image crosses my mind, and I don't know how to feel.

Finally, he lets go.

I have no words. I hold my broken wrist to my chest and let my hair fall over my face, using it as a way to mask my humiliation. He really is a fucking monster . I can still feel him staring at me as I concentrate on the seat before me. The only thing I can hear is the car engine and the air conditioning with blood that rushes to my ears. I want to tell him off once more, but I decide against it.

"And Bambi, you'll be begging me to shut you up again and again after you get a taste of me."

Finally, he wins. I give him a blank gaze as I lick my lips nervously. Hatred is an understatement with the way I breathe. All I see is his smug grin and red eyes. I hate that as I look at him with such rage, I can't help but notice how ridiculous and stupidly beautiful he is.

I hate myself for noticing. I stop sobbing and start to pray silently. I need to get out of this situation.

Street light after street light whips by like blurs of bokeh. My eyes fall heavy as I lose myself in my head. I'm exhausted from the pain, the running, and everything I've gone through these past few hours.

What time is it anyway? It has to be well into the night. My best guess is that it's around two or three in the morning.

We sit in silence for what feels like hours. A book occupies Hayden. Thoughts of my original kidnapper flood my mind.

What happened to the blonde man?

"Did-did you—" I'm stuttering. Fuck, why does he make the air so thick with uncertainty? Just looking at Hayden is so intense and intimidating that I can't handle it. I fear him.

"Did I what, Bambi? Spit it out," Hayden snaps calmly, still staring at his book. I flinch at his demeanor. He's unpredictable.

"Did you kill the men that took me?"

That catches Hayden's attention. He looks at me as if he's hesitating to answer that truthfully. Then he zeroes in on the book again, unbothered, and turns a page.

"Yes." Hayden clenches his jaw briskly.

Relief washes over me. They're gone. They can't get to me anymore.

My breathing finally reaches an average pace, and I let my head rest against the window as I try to flush out the dark thoughts of my unknown future.

If he wanted to kill me, I think he would have done it already. Sitting next to my newly made enemy, I wonder what these people are. What can grow sharp teeth like that? How can their eyes switch colors? Why do they want my blood?

Vampires? Animals? Aliens?

Soon, the physical and mental exhaustion catches up with me with each passing minute. I close my eyes and try not to think about my reality as I fall into the darkness that pulls me.

"Put Your Head On My Shoulder" by Paul Anka starts to play softly, and I swallow anxiously, following the curve of my lips. I love this song. Even when I'm enduring the most disastrous uncanny night of my life, the music still manages to distract me.

"Turn it up," Hayden orders the driver, and the volume rises seconds later. I focus on the lyrics and let myself succumb to my exhaustion.

Cold, velvet sheets are underneath me, hugging my body. I blink rapidly and take in my surroundings blankly.

I'm in my bedroom again. I'm in my bed, on top of my brown cozy blankets. I'm okay.

I try to remember how I got here, but does it really matter? Sleepiness still clouds my brain, causing fog. I can't help it, but a small smile forms as the safety of my room warms me.

Familiarity.

It all must have been a horrible, vivid dream. I'm on my stomach, looking at my lamp and snow globes on my shelf. Everything is lined up perfectly—nothing out of place. My white and pink roller skates are tucked underneath my desk like I usually place them when I get off work. My Garfield clock ticks and that's when I notice it's around five in the morning, and the sun hasn't greeted me yet. The only lighting in my room is the fairy lights above my headboard.

I groan into my brown pillow, and the dreadful memories of last night come crashing into my brain like fire erupting in my heart and soul. I move my wrist, and sure enough, it slaps me back with a large amount of pain and radiates throughout my arm.

I hiss as I try to relax my muscles and joints. I close my eyes and grind my teeth. Nope. It wasn't a dream. The memories set in. They all sink me down a black hole, forcing me to remember that I was kidnapped twice in one night.

What happened?

The last thing I remember, I was in Hayden's vehicle. He kidnapped me from my original kidnappers.

The fighting, the snarling, all the dark blood .

If I wasn't awake before, I really am now. A familiar, deep voice interrupts my thoughts, making my heart sink so low I'm afraid it will never beat normal again.

"Bambi girl, sleep alright?"

Hayden Drago .

I quickly flip up from my stomach and sit up, ready to defend myself. I rush away from the direction of his voice, pushing my legs down onto the mattress to support my back. I scoot until I hit the headboard hard.

No, no, no, this can't be happening.

I bring my knees to my chest, holding them so rigidly it hurts.

"I'll scream," I threaten. My vision blurs as my heart pounds. I know my threat is useless.

Wait, where's my dog?

Cooper is nowhere in sight to protect me, but maybe if I scream, my dad and Cooper will hear me and rush in. Maybe even the neighbors will call the police to complain about the noise.

"I'd prefer you didn't if you want to live. If you want your dad to live ." Hayden casually warns me as he leans against my door, still dressed in his suit from hours ago, playing with his Rolex watch nonchalantly. He's so simple about everything while I'm deeply disturbed.

His dark brown hair is rustled in a mess—his blue eyes are hidden and focused on his watch. Being in my room makes me take in his height and frame. He's tall, just around what seems like 6'4, with a muscular frame, but he isn't overly muscular. He…

No, stop it, Millie . I won't think about these things. No matter how undeniably attractive he is, I'll fight against this magnetic pull to him.

"How do you know about my dad? Did you touch him? I swear to God if you touched h?—"

"Don't get all riled up, Bambi. He took the dog out on a jog early this morning. He's alive...for now." His blue eyes pin to mine with tension around his jaw. He walks toward me, and I clench my blankets for useless protection.

Why is he still here? Why did he let me go home? Wait…how does he know where I live?

The closer he gets, the more my body stiffens. He grins wickedly as he stands over me. He leans on my headboard with one arm. I do everything I can not to look at him, as if he'll get the message that he's unwanted here and he'll disappear.

Suddenly, I feel his hand grab my throat tight. With his other one, he grips my jaw and turns my head, forcing me to look up at him. It's like he's upset I'm not giving him the attention he craves. Our eyes lock together, and after he blinks once, his crimson eyes make a devastating return. He smirks as he leans forward so we're face to face in dire proximity. His lips are close to touching mine, and his cold breath kisses my skin. A scent of whiskey, cigarettes, and mint surrounds me. I try to wiggle out of his grasp, but he tightens his grip like he's punishing me for trying to get out of his hold.

"Again, you're alive because I'm allowing it. Don't. Forget. That." His fingers and palm on my neck tighten.

The air in my lungs comes to a standstill. I can't breathe as my circulation gets caught off, and my head wants to explode. He's choking me. But I don't panic this time. My eyes squeeze shut from the pain, and I let him choke me. He wants a reaction; he wants me to fight and struggle, but I refuse to give him anything.

Finally, I see stars and black clouds threatening to pull me away. Just as I think I'm going to dive into darkness, he lets me go. And like a moth to a flame, I'm gasping for air. I choke and cough from the soreness. I hold onto my throat as if it'll help, even though I know damn well my neck is going to be severely bruised. While I struggle to breathe, Hayden turns his back to me and walks away with slow, indignant steps.

"And Bambi? Try to stay out of trouble. No one is going to be there to rescue you again."

Is that what he calls what he did to me?

Rescuing ?!

I swallow and bite my tongue, trying so hard not to call him every name in the book. I think of some very colorful words to use, but then I remember his threat when we were in the car.

" Watch your words...or I'll shut you up with my cock ."

Slight heat throbs at my core as I remember how he makes threats feel like foreplay. What the hell is wrong with me? The exhilaration in my chest should not be present. It has to be a monster trick. I hate myself for this.

"If you tell anyone about what happened to you. You're dead. Not by me. No, no, no," he sing-songs. "But by those people that took you. For your safety, for your father's safety , you won't say anything. Will you, smart girl? If you do, they'll know where to find you." He sighs like he's annoyed. I watch him move, and even in the way he steps and the way his back sways, it does something to me.

Hayden opens my door and takes one step out. He's leaving me. He's actually going to let me live tonight. I bite my lip as I watch him grip my doorknob.

"It's Millie." I don't know why I felt the need to reveal my real name, but I did.

He turns his head over his shoulder, allowing me to see only half his face and strong jawline. His confusion is evident by how he knits his brows together and his eyes crease.

"My name is Millie, not Bambi," I whisper low as I correct him.

I hate it when he calls me Bambi. But it only elicits a smirk, and his eyes return to a mesmerizing frozen ice-blue color.

"In this world where I exist, you'll always be Bambi," he says darkly.

There's a short pause between us. I don't know what to do. Should I throw my beanie baby at him? It's the closest thing to my reach. Then he continues, "This is the last time you'll ever see me. Consider yourself lucky. You better start praying to God that you never do…you're going to need him in your corner."

For some reason, I unveil a glimpse of raw emotion when he tells me this. But it's just that—a glimpse . I'm unsure of what I'm seeing, but before I can overthink it, Hayden closes the door behind him.

I expect to hear his footsteps follow after, but there's nothing but an eerie silence with crickets singing outside my window. I hold my breath, concentrating on trying to hear a door close… anything . But it never comes.

I wait a few minutes before I fall apart.

He's gone. He's really gone this time. And finally, I can breathe without feeling like I need to hold it in. I exhale heavily and start to sob uncontrollably.

I can't tell anyone about tonight. How am I going to live like this? How am I going to explain how I got a broken wrist? How am I ever going to be okay knowing that what I just went through wasn't a nightmare? It was fucking real.

All of me is terrified, horrified, thinking that men like the blonde man who took me would come back and search for me again. And another small part of me… a very small molecular part that I hate, is disappointed I won't see Hayden again.

Because I have questions, but right now, I'm more focused on surviving. I'm not sure I want to know the answers anyway.