Boyfriend from Hell (Saturn's Daughters) Read Free Page B

no insurance and no desire to spend one more minute of my life in a hellhole of sanitary captivity.I insisted on walking out after they’d taken my vital signs and established I still lived.
    I was too numb to process more than mobility. Not until I was outside in the humid Baltimore heat did I realize I had no way home.
    I preferred being numb to believing Max had tried to kill me or reliving that giant ball of flame. I didn’t want to know where he might be or what he might be suffering right now. I should have asked, but my head was still filled with horror. Thinking made my aching head worse, so I closed the door in my mind for now. My survival instincts were strong and my internal GPS was set on Go Home.
    I was standing in the diesel fumes outside the emergency room, trying to figure out how I would get there, when Andre’s electric blue Mercedes sport coupe screeched to a halt at the curb.
    He got out and stared, looking as white-faced as I felt. “What the devil did you do back there?”
    That wasn’t precisely the way I wanted to look at events. Without being asked, I settled into his comfy leather passenger seat and leaned it as far back as it would go. Sitting down relieved the inequality of my legs, giving my hip muscles a chance to relax and unknot.
    He climbed in and glared when I gave him my address as if he were a taxi driver. Rudeness held back my tears. I was almost out of defenses, and I despised being weak.
    “Did you at least make my deposit before you blew up the bank and your boyfriend?” he asked, buthis voice lacked the venom the words ought to have conveyed. For Andre to avoid his usual sting indicated a high level of concern, probably for his cash and not for me.
    “Nah, I spent it at a spa and boutique on the other side of the harbor,” I said, trying to recall events in the order in which they happened, still seeing only a white-hot burst of electricity and orange flames. “Can’t you tell from my designer shirt?” My hand-dyed silk top was torn and had blood on it, although whose, I couldn’t say.
    “You fly as well as fry?” he asked sarcastically, knowing how long it would take to reach the ritzy port in rush hour, even if I could afford the toll road.
    A TV news van raced into the hospital parking lot. Man, that was all I needed—the media, which could easily draw attention to my imperfect past. I sank deeper into my seat as if I had guilt written on my face for everyone to see.
    “I’m not thinking too straight right now, Legrande. Fire me and get it over with. But give me the courtesy of dumping my carcass somewhere close to home.” I was aware of aches and scrapes and my smoke-seared lungs, but they didn’t register well inside my buzzing head.
    “If the money is gone, it’s gone,” he said with surprising pragmatism. “If some nurse is opening a new back account with it, I won’t begrudge her the lagniappe. Since your spectacular debacle of flames will be all over the news, I can report the deposit to the bank’s insurance company as lost in the fire, andno one will know the difference. You kept a tally, didn’t you?”
    Grateful for this one small candle in the darkness, I grunted acquiescence and remained silent the rest of the way to my place. The memory of what had happened to the deposit lurked behind a door in my head that I didn’t want to open.
    When we finally pulled up to it, at least Legrande didn’t comment on the run-down tenement housing I called home. He knew how much he didn’t pay me. I doubt if he knew I was probably the only student in the universe actually attempting to pay back my loans while still attending classes.
    “Thanks for the ride.” I opened the door myself.
    From beneath a dip of dark hair, Andre drew down his eyebrows and cast me a dubious look. “I ought to walk you up. You don’t look so hot.”
    “Leave these fancy wheels for two minutes and you won’t have any. I can make it to the elevator.” I didn’t mention that