Page 15 of The Depraved Prince
Because I have questions, but right now, I’m more focused on surviving. I’m not sure I want to know the answers anyway.
6
MILLIE
THREE MONTHS LATER
I can’t concentrate.I couldn’t concentrate at work, at home, or even in the hospital when I got a cast on my broken wrist. The doctor said it was a clean break, but it should be able to heal after a few weeks. The doctor wanted to run blood work on me, but I refused. They wanted to do so much when I checked myself into the ER and did more unnecessary tests, but I declined.
I came up with the excuse I had fallen on my wrist and crushed it with my body weight when I went on a run in the middle of the night. I tripped over my own feet. It was totally unbelievable, but it got me through without any more questions asked.
My dad and friends asked me how I broke it, but how was I supposed to explain everything?
Should I start with,I got kidnapped by this non-human guy who broke my wrist when I tried to call the police? Or maybeI got rescued by another villainous man who gave me bruises on my neck and threatened my life if I exposed their kind?
Hayden Drago made it clear. I’m not allowed to tell the truth. He warned me before he disappeared that if I told anyone whattruly happened to me, people like the blonde man would come back for me.
I haven’t seen him in three months, and yet it feels like it’s only been a day. His scent and voice are stained into me like scars that don’t fade. Those eyes are images I can’t forget. Those lips, the way he moved, and the way he looked at me. Those raw emotions aren’t easy to decipher.
All of what I endured replays in my head every single day like a broken record player.
I hate Hayden. I hate that smug look he wears so perfectly. The way he laughed at my pain and pleas for mercy. He enjoyed it. Thankfully, he hasn’t reappeared. He only appears in my dreams, and I swear I can hear his voice while I sleep.
I haven’t encountered another vampire or alien. Whatever they are. He kept his word. As did I. I haven’t spoken about what truly happened to me, and it’s eating me alive. I’m terrified. My anxiety is on another level. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I can’t do anything I enjoy anymore because I’m living in fear that they’ll come back for me. Every time someone comes into the shop or when I walk from class to class on campus, I lose myself in my head while I look vigorously for any features that resemble the creatures from that night.
Like right now. My strange gaze penetrates the man before me as he gives me his order of an iced latte with vanilla creamer. He holds out cash for me to take over the pink counter, and I’m just waiting for him to snarl or open his mouth wider so I can verify if he has abnormally sharp canines.
“I’ll take that for you, sir,” Cole interrupts me at my side. He lifts an eyebrow at me curiously. He takes the customer’s payment, and I clear my throat. The man looks me up and down dubiously, probably wondering if I’m on drugs. I shake my head and look away from him.
“Sorry, I thought you were someone else.” I force my best corporate-friendly smile and turn around, embarrassed. I grip the counter where we make coffee and suck in breath after breath, desperate for some relief. Cole takes over for me, giving me a gentle hand squeeze, and I return the gesture.
I really need to get my shit together.
It’s my favorite time of the year. Fall.
Our manager loves to join in on the holiday fun, so we do what we always do every year when the weather changes and October is near.
We decorate the coffee shop for Halloween.
I don’t know what it is about it, but the spooky aesthetic, leaves changing color, and spending nights watching horror movies soothes my soul. And yet, this time around, the excitement has been stolen from me. Now that I know that the creatures I fantasize about and adore are real, itscares me. They’re not romantic or fun. They’re dangerous and horrifying. They’re out for blood and murder.
Are they the ones responsible for the local animal attacks?
“Millie. I’m worried about you.” Leah sits down next to me on my lunch break. Why wouldn’t she be? I’m constantly messing up customer’s orders and dropping the bakery goods we sell. The last straw for me today was when I messed up one of our frequent customers’ coffee orders by mixing up the flavors. She had a whole fit and started screaming at me for everyone to hear because I gave her hazelnut instead of vanilla. Cole intervened and told me to take my lunch break earlier.
He’s always so sweet to me.
I have a small decaf iced coffee in my hand, but I haven’t taken a sip. Instead, it’s the swaying trees in the distance that encapsulates my attention outside the window of the shop. I dismissed Leah’s comment unintentionally. I’m so lost in my head, and I can’t snap out of it. I scan the area for anyonesuspicious. I watch the customers and families with children walk in and out of the shop. Cars are parking and leaving, but everything seems normal—no one has eyes that change colors.
Leah’s hand suddenly waves in front of my face. It breaks me out of my thoughts.
“Millie, what’s going on? What are you looking for?’ Leah’s eyebrows pull inward as she tracks my vision.
I sigh, ashamed. I bite my lip and tap my fingers on my coffee cup, shaking my head nervously.
“Nothing. I…nothing,” I murmur as I pick up my coffee and finally take my first swig.
“Millie, you haven’t been the same since you broke your wrist. You’re losing weight, your under eyes can use some concealer, and you’re always so jumpy.” Leah looks at me with her brown, worried eyes, studying me hard. She’s waiting for a reaction.
