Thirty Nights (American Beauty #1)

“Miss Snow! Elisa!” A voice yells in my ear. I know that voice. It’s Benson. He’s here and holding me tightly to his chest. “You’re okay, you’re fine!” he yells again as he starts darting in the crowd, shoving and pushing bodies out of our path.

“Benson, what happened?” I shout, as flashes of light break over his face. “Where’s Reagan? Javier?” I wriggle in his arms, searching for red and black curls in the darkness. Benson’s hold tightens and in seconds, we plunge through the front doors into cold, fresh air. Before I can blink, the doors open again and Reagan sprints through them.

“Isa!” she cries, her hair flying in the wind.

“Reagan!” I reach with both my hands toward her, almost falling over Benson’s shoulder. “Are you okay? Where’s Javier? What happened?”

Benson stops at the corner of the main gate, leaning me against the Coliseum’s concrete wall and throwing his jacket over my shoulders. Somehow he has my camera in hand. Reagan reaches us in seconds, gasping. I hug her tightly, patting her face and arms to make sure she has all ten fingers and all ten toes.

“Isa! Holy fuck, are you okay?” she screams, doing the same with me.

“I’m fine! Never mind me, what—” But then I see it. I see it in her eyes first, then in Benson’s, who is towering over us. I follow their horror-struck gaze to my bare legs covered in pink welts. Where Mum’s dress used to be. It’s now in tatters, barely covering the tops of my thighs, the strips of silk blackened and curled by fire. They disintegrate before my eyes, blowing in the wind.

“No!” The word comes out like a sob from my lips. I start chasing the ashes, clutching the air with my fists. “No!” I gasp again as the silky dust flies into the night and disappears. I race after it anyway. “Please,” I pant. “Please!”

“Elisa!” A beautiful voice roars behind me and faster than any motion should catch up with sound, Aiden’s arms wrap around me. He lifts me and cradles me to his chest.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did someone touch you?” He is frantic, his hand flying to my forehead, my cheeks, resting on my throat, taking my pulse.

I find his eyes. They’re wide with terror. Yet, they halt my tears. Air flows again in my lungs and I throw my arms around his neck, inhaling his scent. Inhaling deeply, wanting none of the silky dust inside me. Only him.

“Baby, talk to me!” he says, his voice cracking.

“I’m okay. Don’t worry. I just…I caught fire, I think. I’m not really sure—what are you doing here?” My words are whooshing in the wind too.

He whirls around with me in his arms, and I see Benson sprinting toward us, Reagan behind him. Where is Javier?

“What the fuck happened?” Aiden explodes at Benson. His voice is so loud that I put my hands over my ears.

“Some fucking idiot behind her dropped a sparkler, sir, and her dress caught fire. Right as I got there. I swatted it down before it burned her skin but I think I hit too hard. I’m sorry, sir.” Benson shakes his head, eyes wide.

Aiden is turning into solid titanium around me. He covers my legs with Benson’s jacket, scanning every inch of my welted skin. His jaw is locked so hard that a thick vein is bulging in his neck.

“Aiden, shh,” I whisper in his ear. “I’m okay. Shh. Hydrogen, 1.008—”

“The Rover, Benson.” His voice is low, guttural, the words distorted. His fingers dig into my flesh. Benson sprints toward the parking lot, his massive frame much too nimble for his size.

“Reagan, where’s Javier?” I ask, rubbing the back of Aiden’s neck.

She shrugs. “He kind of disappeared when the security guards came to deal with the fire.”

Aiden’s rib cage expands. His muscles start vibrating. “Thank goodness!” I say to them both, reaching for my purse to call Javier. But it’s not on my hip where I slung it before.

“Reg, have you seen my purse?” I ask, trying to keep a calm voice for Aiden.

“No.” She frowns, looking back at the Coliseum gate.

I try to remember what I had inside. Phone, ChapStick, my debit card. I can cancel that if it’s stolen. Right now, I just need to breathe for Aiden.

“How did you get here?” I whisper, rubbing his neck. He doesn’t answer so I press on to get him to talk. “Aiden, sweetheart, talk to me. What are you doing here?”

“How could I sit at home with you in that crowd?” he says in that same guttural voice, and a violent shudder runs through him.

“Shh, I’m fine. How did Benson get in without a ticket?”

“I know the security detail.”

“Of course you do. My protector,” I whisper in his ear, hoping to lighten the mood but for some reason, he tenses again. Unable to comprehend his terror, I continue to rub his neck. A set of tires squeals on the pavement from the direction of the parking lot and the Rover flies through the gate. At that same moment, the Coliseum doors burst open for the third time and Javier runs out, carrying my purse and scanning the entrance frantically.

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