Chapter 6
SIX
RYE
Smoke fills the room, my mother’s work going up in flames with my ego.
I should worry about the fabric burning next to us.
I should worry about this place burning to the ground.
Instead, I'm staring at her.
“Get off!” Her hands come to my wrist, my grip still around her neck. “Rye!”
She’s begging, and that sound is better than any orchestra. But when another flaming piece of fabric falls to the ground, the room rushes back to me.
Her hand collides with my face in one hard slap, and it stuns me enough that she slips from my grip, but not for long.
“Where do you think you’re going?” My hand catches her wrist before she can take off. With a pull, she lands against my chest, our eyes locking on impact. “This is your mess.”
Hannah burned me enough. I’m not letting her burn down my mother’s studio for me to take the blame. Looking around, my muscles tighten as I take in the scene.
How the fuck did I let it get this bad?
My mom’s new veil? Roasted.
The organic cotton from Peru? Toast.
“I have a lot of talent, but putting out a fire isn’t one of them,” Hannah says, her eyes darting around the space. The room gets smokier with the smell of burning paper and fibre around us.
“I need everybody out.” Dashing through the door, I head for the alarm in the front foyer.
“Wait!” she calls, but there’s no chance. Not with that fire growing.
“Whoa, Rowen!” Bumping into Gray, he has a girl on his arm, her tits falling out of her leather tube top. His brows furrow. “Why do you look like you’ve seen your father?”
“Get everybody out.” I signal to the DJ, who immediately cuts the music.
“No way. The party just—”
“Gray, do it.”
He takes a second before he nods. “Time’s up, buttercups!” he yells, making the girl next to him jump.
And with that, the boys, my boys, step into action.
Moving into the next room, it’s like Mac senses it, already barking orders to the people surrounding us. “Party’s over!”
Krystal and Marisol head towards the foyer, Ember not too far behind. Moving to the back door, I make sure no one’s on the patio or in the pool before turning back inside. The main room empties, and once I’m back in the foyer, Gray continues to herd guests out.
A hand goes to my shoulder. Mac. “What’s going on, Rowen?” he asks. “I smell smoke.”
“Just get everyone out,” I say, glancing back at my mother’s studio. The door is closed, but I didn’t see Hannah leave. “I’m right behind you.”
Rushing to my mother’s studio, a thousand pounds sit on my chest when I touch the warm doorknob. Pushing it open, I pull my shirt to my face as smoke bellows out of the room, my eyes scanning for Hannah.
The studio looks like an excerpt from hell. Fire climbs up the back wall, smoke covering most of the ceiling. When I take a step in, kicking a melted mannequin to the side, something hits my leg. A slender, tanned hand with sparkling nails.
Crouching to the floor, my heartbeat slows.
She looks peaceful for once, lying there with her head against the floor. Lifting her chin, soot decorates her perfect makeup. My hand goes to her cheek, slapping it against her warm face.
“Get the fuck up, Hannah.” When she doesn’t respond, I slap her face again. “Hannah.” That weight on my chest gets heavier as I wait for a response. “Hannah!” When I slap her face again, a cough follows, her arm coiling in as it presses against the floor.
Her honey eyes widen as she sucks in a big breath of air. Rising from my crouch, flames begin to engulf the room around us. She tries to crawl out of the room, but her body gives out before she makes it.
“Get up,” I say, the alarm blaring. She coughs, but she doesn’t change her position. So I do it for her, flipping her over. She coughs some more as I get on top of her, bringing my head close to her soot-covered face. “You did this.”
“You did this,” she says, lifting her hand like it weighs a brick. She reaches for my face.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” I push back on her face and squeeze those cheeks between my fingers.
“Look at me.” She attempts to turn her head to the side, but I don’t let her, making her focus those eyes on me.
She tries to lift her other hand to my face, but it’s too easy to pin it next to her head.
“You fucking jerk,” she spits.
“Be grateful I came back for you.”
She squirms, those eyes shifting behind me. The fire’s building. Her cheeks still between my fingers, I give her a shake to get her attention.
“Here’s what we’re gonna do.” My hand leaves her wrist, my fingers trailing down her warm arm. “I won’t leave your lifeless body here to burn with the mess you caused.” My fingers trail down her thigh. Balmy, sticky. “But you won’t make it another day as queen of SBU. Understand?”
“Fuck you.”
CRACK!
She jumps when something lands next to us. A flaming mannequin head.
“We don’t have much time,” I remind her. “So, what’ll it be?”
Thud!
A curtain of velvet falls on the other side. She squeals.
“Tic-toc,” I tease. I can feel her body tremble and call me twisted for trying to gain control in a roaring fire, but I’m committed. Closing her eyes, she finally nods. I smile. “Good girl.”
Crr—ack!
It’s time to get the fuck out of here.
She screams when a flaming piece of fabric topples to the ground, next to her head.
“Keep it together,” I mutter, scooping Hannah in my arms. Her arm comes around my neck as she curls up against my chest. Looking around us, it’s carnage, and I can’t begin to think about the work these flames eat up. Squinting through the smoke, I head towards the mansion doors. “Almost there.”
With my boot to the front door, I kick it until it swivels open.
“Whoa, my big brother’s a hero,” Krystal’s voice comes from beside me once we’re out on the front patio. The cool air hits my face, fresh air gracing my lungs.
When Hannah opens her eyes, they land right on me. She doesn’t look angry or contentious. She looks soft. Like she’s a cat I saved from a tree. She looks to her side before her demeanour shifts. Muttering something, her eyes dart around.
What’s left of the party stares at us. And I know what’s about to happen.
Hannah and I look like something out of a romance movie.
The big jock carrying the queen bee out of a fiery building.
So before they can document any of this, I turn to Krystal, holding Hannah’s body towards her. “Can you hold this?”
Before Hannah hits the floor, Krystal catches her. She wobbles in her boots, her size not much bigger than Hannah’s.
Pushing my hands in my pockets, I take a step back, glancing at the phones pointed in our direction. “Say cheese.”