Page 103 of Red Hot Harmony

Dante scooped up Ally in his arms and carried her down the stairs.

A current of trepidation hurled through me as we pushed our way through the party. All my eyes registered was the blur of bodies. Strange distorted sounds attacked me from every corner and a part of me almost believed we weren’t going to make it out of this mayhem alive.

My heart galloped. My left temple throbbed as if someone had taken a hammer to the side of my head.

Dante pressed on, navigating through the crowd with unmatched ease. Ally seemed weightless in his embrace.

I was a step behind, my gaze for some reason latched on to her arm that had fallen out of the heap that she was and dangled loosely. In a hurry to leave, I forgot to cover my face and the heavy stench of burned underbrush that hung in the air slipped down my nose and into my lungs when we exited the house.

A helicopter flew by, its rattle overpowering the other sounds.

“She needs to go to the hospital!” I shouted once we cleared the property line and hit the sidewalk.

Behind me, the music and noise were thinning out, becoming a memory. An unpleasant one at that.

The helicopter was heading west, now distant but making unmistakable rounds somewhere in the vicinity of the city.

Dante was quiet. Finally, when we reached the Jaguar, he shifted slightly, then pointed at his hip with his chin. “Can you unlock the car?”

Following his instructions, I slid my hand into the back pocket of his jeans and fished out the keys. My eyes caught the sight of blood on his knuckles. It wasn’t much. Just some broken skin in a couple of places, but it still made me want to hug him for doing what I’d wanted to do myself but couldn’t.

The alarm beeped and I wrenched the front door open, cursing Harper for his impractical automotive choice.

“You gotta get in the back with her, Camille,” Dante explained, voice detached.

I pushed the front seat forward and climbed in.

He maneuvered Ally into the vehicle and helped me arrange her onto her side. “Make sure she stays like that.”

Then he proceeded to inspect the vehicle, looking for something. It turned out to be a plastic bag.

“Have her throw up into this if she has to,” he ordered and got behind the wheel.

We were silent again, covered in ash. My hands rested on Ally’s body, one in her tangled hair and one on the curve of her shoulder. She wore a pair of skinny jeans and a crop top, and her bra was unhooked, which made my stomach curl into itself. The edges of my vision were swimming and the outline of the wretched tattoo peeking out from underneath her top became fuzzy.

Dante spun and looked at me. “How’s her heartbeat?”

“I don’t know.” I shook my head and added, “We have to take her to the hospital.” My panic was wild and dark and restless. I couldn’t think straight. The mere thought of someone violating my daughter made everything in me rage and scream and demand revenge. I didn’t even think I had the capability for such anger.

I was wrong.

“Camille,” Dante rasped out, his tone abnormally calm, clinical even. “You need to check her heartbeat. There shouldn’t be more than ten seconds between breaths.”

Inhaling slowly, I leaned over and moved my palm to Ally’s nose. Counted.

“It’s five...Five seconds.”

“Okay.” Dante gave me a nod, his expression concentrated. “That’s good. Her brain is getting enough oxygen.” A small frown creased his forehead.

“Shouldn’t we give her some water?”

“No, if this is alcohol poisoning, it’s best you don’t. It’ll just make it worse.”

Ally stirred beneath my touch. She wasn’t unconscious, but she wasn’t coherent either. Her thin body felt fragile and cold, and for some reason, I remembered the moment I’d held her in my arms for the first time. I remembered how tiny and pink she looked and how terrified I was because I had no clue what to do. I still didn’t, even after all these years.

“I’m horrible, aren’t I?” I whispered, fighting tears.

“No, you’re not.” Dante touched my shoulder. “She’s fifteen. Every teenager rebels at fifteen. Especially the ones in a band.”

---