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But then Michael decides he wants to join in, and he steps into me, forehead to mine. I raise a brow but I join him, laughing when he spins me under his arm and dips me.
“Back off,” Carter says, shoving Michael’s chest who just grins and raises his hands.
Presley wraps his arms around my waist, under my breasts, and pulls me backwards. His lips and tongue touch my neck sending powerful euphoric waves down my spine. I moan and lean into him as Carter pinches my chin with his finger and thumb.
“You only dance with us now,” he says and pulls my lower lip down with his thumb.
I nod, hearing him loud and clear. He releases my lip and pulls me away from Presley, pressing my hips to his.
The music is heavy but slow, and before I realize what is happening, I’m being flanked by the two sexiest guys in the room. Suddenly they’re both battling for my body against theirs and I don’t know who to choose. I fit perfectly with them both.
“You have to go!” Alice cries, tugging on my arm, genuine panic in her eyes. I have never seen her look so serious and my happy buzz vanishes immediately. “Presley’s house is on fire. It’s all over Facebook.”
What the fuck?
“Presley!” I scream, and he stops showing off with Carter. Asher shows him something on her phone and his face falls. He runs through the crowd so fast I can hardly keep up.
Carter follows but overtakes me and pulls me along, unwilling to leave me behind.
The three of us dive into Carter’s SUV and he takes off, beeping his horn when people don’t move out of the way.
“She’s out of the house,” Presley whispers, gripping his knees, “she’s out of the house. She’s out of the house.”
I place my hand on his. “She is. You’ll see. She’s out.”
“That son of a bitch. I should never have left her with him.”
“You don’t know what happened yet. Don’t panic, okay?”
He punches the back of the seat twice. “Can you go any fucking faster, Carter?”
“I’m trying,” he beeps his horn and overtakes a slow-moving blue car in the middle of town. We follow the orange glow and the smoke rising into the night sky.
It’s almost midnight but I’m sure Stanley will forgive me when I roll in late.
“Please, please, please,” Presley begs quietly, he’s visibly trembling. “She’s only four. She’s only four. And I’m so mean to her sometimes.”
“She’ll be okay,” I promise him. “She’ll be okay.”
I ditch my wings as we finally pull onto Presley’s street. There’s a single firetruck parked haphazardly across his front yard and driveway; people are standing across the road but the house is almost entirely engulfed by flames. The noise is insane. I’ve never heard anything like it.
We pull up onto the curb, almost hitting an onlooker in their fluffy white gown and Presley climbs over me to race straight for the fireman directing the massive hose towards the house. There’s an ambulance too and Presley’s father is in the back of it, a mask over his face.
“There he is,” Myers cries.
Oh shit… he’s drunk.
“There’s the best son in the world.” He tries to sit up but the paramedics push him back onto the gurney.
“Where is she?” Presley yells, sounding hysterical.
One of the firemen whips his head round and he approaches quickly. “He said she’s with you.”
“Oh my God,” Carter breathes. “She’s still in there.”
“No… no…” Presley’s eyes fill with tears and he runs straight towards the front door.
“THE KID IS IN THERE!” the fire chief bellows. “SHE’S IN THERE!”
“NOOOO!” Presley shrieks and Carter follows but the police are too strong. They form a line to block them off, pinning Presley to the grass as two firemen rush towards the flames.
“Which room is her room?” one of them asks through his protective gear. “Where will she be?”
Carter points to the window on the second floor because Presley is too hysterical to be rational right now. “The room behind that one is her room.”
The firemen nod and take off.
“I TOLD HER TO STAY IN HER ROOM!” Presley screams, struggling.
Stanley appears behind me and places his hand on my shoulder. I curl into his side, watching the scene unfold. “That fucking soup kitchen is on fire too… this is the only truck they had spare.”
“She’ll be okay, won’t she?” I ask over the roaring flames. I understand now why people say that, they really do whoosh and roar like nothing I’ve ever heard.
Presley is screaming on the ground as the police keep him clear.
I’ve never heard anybody sound so desperate before.
“PAISLEY!” he screams. “I’M SORRY, PAISLEY!”
I cry, feeling salty tears flood my eyes as the boys who were just enjoying themselves, dancing like they had no problems only minutes ago, are now screaming for the police to let them go.
