The Founder of CoD saved me from a Bullet

Chapter 4

I gather my few possessions and hurry down the stairs, squeezing my eyes shut to keep the hot, angry tears from falling. God, who does Chay think he is?!

Mumbling about how much my life sucks, I dart out of house. Right before I get into my car--Chay must have had someone drive it from the tavern to the Toti Mansion--I look up and see a face in one of the bedroom windows: Chay. He seems sad, looking at me like that. I don't know, maybe if things had played out a little differently, we could have...no. I shouldn't think like that, it will only cause me more pain and remorse.

As I stare back at him, the early morning sunlight catches and I see a glimmer that might be a tear, but, what am I thinking? This is Chay Toti, the millionaire famous for his hard outer shell and for remaining single no matter how many girls threw themselves at him and his money. He would not just cry at some random girl he hadn't even known for twenty-four hours. His gloomy expression makes me feel worse, but what can I do? If I stay here any longer, all I will do is ruin his life just like I ruined Matt's.

I stand up straighter and wipe the traitor tears that fall from my eyes. Holding onto Chay's state for one more second, I can't take it anymore and get in the front seat of my car.

I missed its smell of ginger ale and spearmint gum. And Matt. It still smelled faintly like him.

••••

I have been driving down the road for about an hour, one destination in mind. When I arrive at my old apartment building, police and firefighters are everywhere, and smoke is spiraling into the air.

Apparently the fire started up again and the ashes of my apartment are now burning into ashes. Just my luck.

I race inside and up the stairs. When I get to the fourth floor, I rush down to apartment 406, a newspaper lying limp in front of my charred door. Pushing it out of the way, I see my old family album and camera lying on the couch, right where I had left them.

Before I got the call about my grandfather from my mother, I had been going through the pictures on my camera and choosing ones that would soon be printed out and slid into the book filled with memories.

I gasp, and before registering the consequences, I leapt into the room all aflame, reaching out for my childhood, all filed away in a precious book.

Ignoring the shouts of police officers and firefighters, I cradle the book to my chest. A gust of wind blows through the shattered windows, and smoke blows right into my face.

I must inhale too much, because the next thing I know, I'm collapsing to the ground.

This is it, I decide. I try to think of someone meaningful as my last thought, like my mother, but all I can think of is a quote I remember reading somewhere, and it ironically fits the situation: You are cold, while you yourself fan flames.

I am, and I do.

This is what gives me the strength to get up and throw myself out of the flaming room.

Then, I pass out.

••••

"She just passed out, our theory is she went to grab this camera and photo album because it meant something to her, and then smoke inhalation made her body shut down briefly. She should be fine with a little rest. We will need to ask some questions when she wakes up," an unfamiliar, deep voice said.

"When will she wake up?" the kind voice of my mother says.

Just then, my body decides it is time to wake up.

"What the hell happened to my leg? It hurts like hell," I groan.

"Courtney, oh my God! Sweetie, how are you feeling?" my mother cries, mumbling a quick prayer in Italian. She turns her head to a man, the one who was talking earlier. He is dressed in a shaggy black suit with a badge on his chest reading: Officer Peter Hemmingway.

"My leg hurts," I reply.

"Yes, your left leg caught on fire when you ran into the apartment. Honey, you have a second-degree burn."

"Ugh," I say. "It hurts."

"Officer Pete, could you give us a moment?"

Pete shrugs his shoulders and leaves.

"Mom? What are you doing here, you should be with Granddad!" I say quickly.

Mom grabs my hands.

"Grandad is doing much better, so when I got a call from Officer Pete, he told me to go. I love you, Courtney."

I smile.

"I love you too, Mom."

Then I remember Chay, and what happened between us.

"Uh, Mom...could I stay with you? I don't really have anywhere else to go..." I look away.

Mom looks me in the eyes.

"Sweetie, I would love to have you in the house again, really. But with Granddad in his condition, he is living with me and your sister."

She sighs.

"There isn't any room. Christy is already complaining. I'm so sorry, Honey."

I sit up and get out of the hospital bed, an angry frown forming on my face.

"Enlighten me, Mom: where am I supposed to stay?!"

"Where did you stay last night?" she asks, starting to sound mad.

"In a hotel," I answer quickly.

"Hm," my mother says. "Why don't you stay there again?"

"I don't have the money, Mom! I got fired!"

My mother gasps.

"Oh, Honey..." Mom looks at me with pity.

"Stop!" I yell at her. "Stop looking at me with that pitying look! I'll find somewhere to stay on my own. It was nice seeing you again. Tell Christy I say hi. Granddad too."

Then, I walk out of the room and away from the pity.

Chay never pitied me.

••••

"Hey! You're Courtney Durand, correct?" a nurse asks me as I storm towards the exit of the hospital.

"Yes." I answer sharply.

"Here, take this. It's medicine for your burn. Put it on twice a day, and it should get better within a week. Make sure to get plenty of rest, and don't push yourself."

I manage a curt nod, take the medicine, and storm out of the foul-smelling building.

That's when I realize I don't have my car. It would still be at my apartment building.

"Jesus!" I exclaim to myself. God, I am so stupid.

"Ms. Durand?"

I look up to see Officer Pete standing across the parking lot.

"Yeah," I reply.

"Are you looking for your car?" he asks.

"Yes," I answer. "Do you know if it's still at my apartment building?"

"Yes, it is. Would you like me to give you a ride there so you can get your car?"

"Oh my God, that would be great," I say, a smile forming.

"Come on, then!" the officer smiles at me.

Finally, something is going my way.