Page 89 of Red Hot Harmony

I needed to know if she was okay, but I knew better. She’d been pretty obvious about how she felt earlier and giving her space seemed like the smartest move.

Problem was, my brain stalled when Camille Rockwell was in the picture and that had absolutely nothing to do with my impaired functions due to the stroke. One sight of her and I became dumb and stricken, and all these feelings I had for her boiled and ruptured within me like something in a pressure cooker.

It was terrifying. Even the damage the fires were causing at this moment across the state didn’t come close to the damage Camille had caused in my life. She was a comet, unstoppable and vicious and absolutely incomprehensible and everything I believed in yet knew didn’t stand a chance.

The hospital lot was a total zoo when I arrived.

I noted several fire trucks flanking the building as I pushed through the traffic, searching for a parking spot.

Yanneth had pretty much threatened me with asthma when I was leaving my place, so at her insistence, I wore a bandana to cover my mouth and nose. It didn’t do jack shit for eyes, though. The fuckers stung.

Inside, the upheaval slapped me in the face. People were jittery, on their phones, expressions twisted with worry.

I’d heard the word “evacuation” at least a dozen of times when I reached the wing where Malik was. One of the nurses winked at me when I was passing the station.

Apparently, some women still couldn’t resist my charm. Even when the world was falling apart.

“Crazy out there, huh?” she said to me.

“Yeah.” I gave her a curt nod and picked up my pace, not really in the mood to flirt.

I didn’t expect to see Shanice here today, but she was in Malik’s room when I got in, going through a gym bag that looked very familiar. It was one of his.

“Hey, brother!” he greeted me with a bear hug and heavy pat on the back.

“Hey.” I scanned him from head to toe to make sure he was okay. He’d already changed into jeans and a T-shirt, and aside from the large bags under his eyes, he looked decent.

As decent as someone who’d just overdosed could look, anyway.

“So”— I directed my attention to Shanice—“you two talking without lawyers now?”

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Sort of,” Malik said, accepting a hoodie from his wife.Or ex-wife?

“You mind if I steal her for a couple of minutes?” I told him, then shot Shanice a stare and pointed at the door. “Can we have a word, darlin’?”

Her face tensed, but she followed me out into the corridor.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I whispered through gritted teeth, steering her toward the wall to allow a group of nurses to pass.

“You need to be more specific.”

“What is wrong with you?” I took a step forward, the space between us shrinking to a couple of inches. “Why are you giving him false hope?”

“I don’t know what you mean, Dante.” She folded her arms across her chest.

“You didn’t talk to him.”

“Are you serious? Do you think I’m going to break up with him in a hospital?”

“You already broke up with him. Now you need to make it clear that you’ve moved on. You had all of yesterday to say something.”

“He’s not ready to hear it.”

“He’s never going to be ready. No one is. It’s not helping that you keep postponing this shit. Just rip the fucking Band-Aid off so he can live his fucking life.”

“You think your rehab shenanigans bond made you an expert? Well, I’ve known him for years and you’ve known him for a few months. I believe that gives me the upper hand.”

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