Page 49 of My Sweet Dollie, You Have to Love Me
Another from me.
“Answer me! Is Dollie okay?”
He gives only a creepy smile, yellow teeth proudly on display.
“Is. My. Sister. Okay!” My anger shifts direction from Dollie for getting us into this mess to the person who lured her into it.
His dirty, gloved fingers move up her arm, and I have no idea why, but it sends goosebumps racing down mine. He touches her face, feeling over her cheeks with stained knuckles.
The shorter distance makes me uneasy, but I fight my trembling legs to stay where I am, closer to Dollie.
One more step. An odd number of steps between us.
Something awful is going to happen.
“Don’t touch her.” The awful things happening are currently all happening to Dollie.
Ugly red lips press to her forehead as Colin ignores me. The kiss print stays there, mocking me when he returns his smile to me.
“Did you miss her?” he questions, his voice much deeper than before. It rings in my ears after he’s done talking, and I know it’ll haunt me there forever. “It was only a few minutes you were apart. I gave Dollancie a little photoshoot while you were sleeping. She really is the perfect little doll.”
Something about his words has the hairs on the back of my neck rising.
“Just put her down. I want her here with me and not with you.”
Dad would hate this. And hate me for letting her down and being a bad brother.
“Oh, you want her? Down there in the cold? Very well.”
Before any objections could leave my mouth, she’s flying at me through the air. I brace myself for impact as her body thuds against mine.
Taking her weight, my foot slides off the step, and my ankle twists. My healing leg isn’t strong enough for the extra weight, so we fall back into the water.
The water barely cushions the blow as I land. My lower spine screams out in harmony with the pain in my leg. I join them with a sharp gasp, and Dollie adds more sound as water enters her mouth and sputters it back out.
With her still in my arms, I lift her face from the water, and her eyes open slowly. The blood on her lip is gone as she whispers, “Ambrose,” before her eyes roll shut again.
I keep her close to me, rubbing her back to try and rid any trapped water from her lungs as the wooden stairs creak and pound under Colin’s weight. I glance in his direction to see him leaving, not moving closer. And then the door slams, leaving us alone.
The thrumming in my chest is hard to keep up with, and I can’t get away from the thoughts in my head, which are all violent endings to our lives.
I brush loose strands of Dollie’s hair from her eyes before putting it back and removing it twice more to lessen my anxiety.
It feels right, but the bad thoughts still swirl in my head, clawing me back whenever something more positive tries to creep in.
We’re still alive.
That’s a positive thought. But maybe I’ve watched too many movies, or perhaps, I know what psychopaths are capable of, as that positive thought doesn’t feel so positive.
Tiny fingers wrap around my neck, clawing at me. I try to peel Dollie away. Now that she’s waking, her hands all over me cause agitation to build walls up inside me.
“I wanna go home.”
It isn’t an option, but I do, too.
Not telling her that, I stay quiet, trying again to unlatch her fingers from my clothes and skin.
Agitation shifts back to anger, and it bubbles inside me. Trying again for distance, I pull at her wrists gently. I don’t want to hurt her as much as I don’t want her to sense my anger and realize it’s all because of her, because it’s her fault we’re in this mess.
