Free Faithless Angel by Kimberly Raye

brain refusing the truth even as Jesse’s voice rang loud and clear in her ears.
    “His medical records from Booker Hall show three suicide attempts in the past two years. The doctor who’s in charge of his care has to give him a thorough evaluation, make sure he’s out of danger before he releases him to your custody. In the meantime, you’ve got a stack of paperwork waiting for you.”
    She wanted to tell Jesse to leave. That she didn’t care about Daniel or his suicide attempt, or if the whole town were to catch fire with her smack-dab in the middle. But strangely enough, as she stared deep into his brown eyes that were so disturbinglyfamiliar, she couldn’t make herself say the words.
    “I’ll just be a few seconds.” She pulled away from him and rushed into her bedroom. Minutes later she was back, dressed in black leggings and an oversize T-shirt, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. She grabbed her purse and followed Jesse to the door.
    “You don’t have a car,” he remarked several seconds later as they pulled out of her driveway in Bradley’s prized cherry red Celica.
    “The Suburban is mine,” Faith told him. “I left it at Faith’s House because Bradley needed it for the kids. It has a lot more room than this little car. Besides, it took me a few months just to get him to park this thing at Faith’s House. He was afraid it would get vandalized.”
    “He doesn’t seem like the flashy sports car type.”
    “He really isn’t, but there’s just something about this car. His link to his wanna-be lawyer years, he calls it. And nothing short of an act of Congress could get him to tote any of the kids around in it.” She knew she was chattering on, but she couldn’t stop herself. Talking kept her from thinking, from acknowledging the deep-seated dread seeping through her body. “I’m surprised he let you drive it. What did you promise him? Your firstborn?”
    Jesse smiled, a lazy tilt to his lips that made Faith regret her words. She caught her bottom lip and focused on the road ahead, her purse gripped tight in her arms.
    He was so close … just the slightest shift in her seat and her arm would brush his.
    “So what have you been doing for transportation?” His words cut into her thoughts.
    “I don’t go out much, and when I do, walking suits me just fine.” Her words were short, clipped,harsher than she meant them. She stared at the blaze of lights that streaked by them as they drove toward St. Joseph’s Hospital.
    “Walking is dangerous in this neighborhood. Aren’t you scared?”
    “Of what? After what I’ve been through—” She bit her lip to stop the flow of words, but they came anyway. “There isn’t much that would scare me right now.”
Except you
, a voice added silently.
    As if he heard, his fingers tightened on the steering wheel. Faith’s gaze was drawn to his scarred hand, barely visible in the shadows. As bad as the scar was, she knew the cut must have been deep. Painful. Her fingers itched to reach out and soothe that pain. She dug her nails into the soft black leather of her purse and forced her attention back to the road.
    “Everybody’s scared of something.”
    “Not me. Not anymore.” She gave him a pointed stare. “And what do you care, anyway?”
    “I care, that’s all.”
    “Well, don’t,” she retorted.
Please don’t
, her mind echoed.
    “Dammit, I don’t want to,” he started, “but it’s not that simple—” The rest of his words were lost in the wail of an ambulance that raced by them and hung a sharp right just a few feet ahead at a blazing neon sign that read EMERGENCY .
    Faith wanted to ask Jesse what he meant, but he was already maneuvering the Celica into the hospital drive.
    Minutes later, Faith, with Jesse at her side, his hand warm beneath her elbow, walked into the brightly lit emergency room. Her heart clenched at the sight of the nurses’ station.
    An accident, Ms. Jansen … Massive trauma
…
    She pushed the thoughts