A Dragon's Heart

Chapter 3 - Wouldn't Want To Get Blood On The Car

Chapter 3

Gran wasn't very pleased to come pick us up at five in the morning. But after one glance at mom's solemn expression and my limping, bloodied self, she decided to keep her complaints to herself. I didn't dare tell my mom what I saw on the plane, especially since I didn't believe it myself. I was probably delusional from blood loss. I kept a tight hold on my bag as we exited the terminal, and assessed every single person that passed us. I was high strung, even though I knew that the crazy psycho killer with violet eyes couldn't have possibly made it to L.A. so quickly.

This was probably the first time in the history of my life where I was walking slower than my grandmother. I was barely keeping up with her hobbled walk, and by the time we got to her shiny Jaguar, I was sweating and out of breath.

"Nice car, mom." My mom commented, and I thought back to how poor my mother and I were back in Florida. Seriously, if my grandma had so much money, why didn't she help us out?

"It's your grandfathers." She replied. Well, that explained it. I heard my grandma got re-married to some old rich guy, hence them living out here in the middle of "big money" Los Angeles. Gran glanced in her rear-view mirror and sighed.

"You're getting blood on the seat, Ror." Her raspy voice told me, and I wanted to take off my shirt and smear it all over the windows.

"Mom, maybe we should take her to the hospital." My mom said. Ah, thanks mom. Always the voice of reason. My gran was still looking at me, so I made it a point to hold up my shirt away from the car's expensive leather. After nodding in approval, my grandma put the car in motion.

I kept my eyes glued to the passing scenery. One big difference was the hills. Man oh man were there hills in this place. Florida was as flat as my grandma's bum. The greenery and the trees were pretty much the same though. There was also loads of traffic. I was so happy I only had a broken ankle and not a concussion or something life-threatening.

The sun was now breaking through the clouds when we finally made it to the hospital. It was roughly six fifteen and all I wanted to do was take a nice long nap. Unfortunately for me, we couldn't always get what we want.

"Rory St. Clair?" A nurse called, and my head shot up. Her eyes landed on me, and she smiled warmly.

"Follow me to seven." She turned on her heel and walked down the hallway. I gestured to my mom, hoping she'd follow me, but instead she shook her head.

"Sorry honey, I'll wait out here. You know how queasy I get." Her eyes were full of regret and I sighed.

"It's okay mom. I'll send someone for you when they're done." I tried my best to hide my fear as I made my way into the cloroxed room. Seriously, even the paper sheet smelled like hospital. I lay back on the bed and winced as I brought my foot up.

"So, what seems to be the problem?" The nuse asked, eying my swollen ankle.

"I jumped out of my window and I landed pretty bad on my feet." I said honestly.

"Where was this window located?" She questioned, scribbling on her notepad.

"Second floor of my house. I landed in my truck bed." I watched as she froze, and her eyes ran over my blood stained tank top.

"Why did you jump out of your window, Ms. St. Clair?" She pursed her lips, as if trying to figure me out.

"I wanted to sneak out to a party without my mom knowing." The lie slipped out easily, before I even realized it.

"So did you aquire any more injuries I need to be aware of?" The nurse asked again, looking pointedly at my shirt.

"I think I cut myself earlier but it's feeling better now." Okay, so maybe it was a half truth. I did cut myself earlier, just on somebody's razor shap teeth.