Mad Boys (Blue Ivy Prep, #2)(20)

It was hard enough to keep my eyes open. If they were going to release me, I wanted to get out of here. Thankfully, the round with the doctor went easier. He was younger, smiling like he was actually happy to be here, and his eyes held a distinctly sober edge.

He was more than happy with my oxygenation levels. My throat was raw and sore, so I needed to give it all a couple of days. A fact he reminded me about firmly after examining it.

After ordering a few more tests, he focused on me. “We’re going to give this another couple of hours. Drink some water, small sips only. Suck on the ice. I’ll see about ordering you something cold to eat too in a little while. So far, all your numbers look good. We’ll be able to get you out of here soon.”

“Thank you,” I hacked around the words, grimacing even as they came out.

“Take it easy there, Miss Crosse. That’s a valuable voice, and we want to protect it. You should be good in a few days, but we’ll want you to check in with your primary physician. If you don’t have one locally, come back and see me. My sister is a huge fan.”

I didn’t laugh, but Aubrey did. “We’ll sign any autograph you’d like. Just hearing she’s going to be okay is a lifesaver.”

“What she said,” Yvette declared from the phone. “I’ll send something down to the girls once we figure out where everyone will be.”

He chuckled. “That’s great, however getting better is the best thing you can do for her and for me. Any questions?”

I had thousands of them, just not for him. Not right now. Blood work followed him pretty quickly, then they sent me for more x-rays. More, because they’d done x-rays earlier, but I was out.

The bed area next to mine was empty when I came back. The curtains were open and the bed was freshly made. Aubrey glanced up as they wheeled me back into the bay. “We can get you dressed,” she said. “Results will be in shortly. Or we can wait until they actually release you.”

I was on the fence about that. We’d sent Yvette to sleep and promised to text as soon as we knew what was happening.

“Where…” I started, but Aubrey made a face and I couldn’t blame her. There was almost no improvement in how hoarse I sounded. Maybe I should give my voice a break, at least until my throat didn’t feel littered with broken glass. I pointed to her phone, mostly ‘cause I had no idea where mine was.

She handed it over and I typed in a message in the notes:

Where is Douchebag Two?

She glanced at the words then over at the empty area next to us. “He was discharged. They gave him a list of warnings to watch out for, except he sounded fine. Looked more cranky than anything else.”

But he’s okay?

A gentle smile softened her face. “He’s fine. He’s still a prick. He also still thinks he’s in charge.” With a roll of her eyes, she shook her head. “All that said, he didn’t hesitate to go into the building not once, not twice, but at least three times that I saw, and he went back for you.”

Oh.

“That doesn’t mean he gets forgiven,” Aubrey said with a sniff, as she leaned back in the chair. “I don’t know what he and his pair of Douchebag Brothers will need to do for that, but I guarantee you, groveling will be involved.”

I stared down at the phone for a minute, then typed in: How bad?

Aubrey’s smile fled. “It’s toast babe. All of it. Gone. The building, from what I hear, might still be standing but the interior is gutted…our clothes, the computers, the coffee maker…” The last she said with genuine mourning. “They’re all gone. We can replace them, even get new pictures printed, but between the fire and the water? Not much is going to be salvageable. Not that we can get in there at all. Sydney texted to say that they’re investigating it.”

I frowned. Arson?

When I held up the phone, Aubrey lifted her shoulders. “I don’t know. The sprinklers didn’t work. The fire alarms didn’t go off when they were supposed to, and it was chaos…maybe it was just a bad accident…”

But she didn’t think so. I sighed, then looked around the cubicle.

“Clothes?” At her question, I nodded. She closed the curtains then helped me into what looked like newly purchased clothes. They still had the tags on. When she had time to shop, I had no idea. It was good, though all I could smell was smoke and fire. It was in my hair and my skin. I’d washed my hands, but it didn’t chase the scent away.

After an eternity, Jesse came back. “I didn’t forget you,” she said with a smile as she hustled in. “We’re going to get you ready for discharge, but we need to go over some things first. I take it you’ll be with Miss Crosse?”

“Yes,” Aubrey said, leaning forward. For the next ten minutes, Jesse went over the discharge paperwork with us, including what symptoms to watch for and what constituted an immediate trip back. She also reminded me that I needed to do a follow-up with a primary care physician.

Once she was done, I signed everything. “Stay here for a minute and I’ll get the wheelchair. Do you want to bring your car around?” she said the last to Aubrey.

“Calling a ride-share,” she said, holding up the phone. “They’ll be here in ten.” I wish it was Dix, but he’d already gone back to L.A. I’d been so confident I’d be fine—famous last words.