Jolene: Betrayed

Jolene: Betrayed 3

Ledger

This is not how I thought my night would go. I rarely work the haunted house, but since I am headed out of town soon, I thought "why not". I still can't believe that asshole threw this woman into my chainsaw, or that I am taking her to the hospital. As I am helping her down the hallway, her pace becomes painfully slow. So, I take my free hand and tuck it behind her legs, lifting her up and cradling her like a baby. Damn, she smells good. She begins to protest instantly, "Mr. Clayton, put me down! I am going to get blood on your shirt, and I'm sure I'm too heavy for you to carry." Without slowing, I roll my eyes and reply, "Don't insult your body or my strength. And in case you've forgotten, I'm already covered in your blood. And it's Ledger, not Mr. Clayton." She opens her mouth to argue but simply says, "Fine. Ledger." I guess I win that argument. Relaxing into me, she quietly allows me to carry her the rest of the way to my car.

I own a few different cars, but considering the situation, I carry her to the Range Rover. Given her current state, I'm sure she has no desire to crawl in and out of a tiny sports car. I sit her down and open her door, but she doesn't get in. Instead, she turns around to take in her surroundings. "This is your warehouse?" she asks, incredulously. "Yes, this is my warehouse. My haunted house. My home." I answer. I knew there were more questions to come. She has asked more questions than anyone I have ever met. She continues, "Are all of these cars yours too?" I put my hand on her back to gently urge her into the car and reply, "Yes, these are all mine. We should really get you to a hospital." She seems to be lost in thought, but she shuffles forward and climbs into the car.

I close her door, and walk around the back of the car to make my way to the driver's side. I stop at the back door first to grab a clean shirt from my backpack in the back seat. I pull off my bloody shirt, and toss it aside. I start to put my arms into the clean shirt, when I notice Jolene staring back at me. "Enjoying the view," I say, pulling the shirt over my head and closing the door as she quickly turns to face forward. I pull my cell phone from my pocket, climb into the driver's seat, and close my door. I pull up my assistant's name, and send her a quick text: "Taking the bloodied woman to the hospital. Could you lock up after closing and put my keys in the loft?" I hit send, and look up to see Jolene staring at my phone. "The bloodied woman? Really? My name is Jolene. Honestly, I can just Uber to the hospital. No need to put you out," she says, reaching for her door handle. I let out a quick chuckle and start the car. I am pretty sure she is trying to escape because of her embarrassment at being caught staring, more so than her anger from my text message. "Fine. Jolene," I say mocking her stubborn reply to me from earlier.

She must be in some pain, because she hasn't asked a single question in the ten minutes we have been driving.

"Are you okay over there?" I ask.

"Fine."

Right, okay then. She is pissed off about something. Probably the prick that did this to her.

"Are you in pain? I'm trying to get us to the hospital as quickly as possible."

"You didn't have to bring me at all ya know? I am sure your girlfriend did not appreciate you telling her over text message that you left because of me."

This took a weird turn.

"Erm that was not my girlfriend. That was my assistant June. The woman with the red hair that ran into my office earlier." I explain cautiously. "And I didn't leave because of you. I left because some piece of shit hurt you," I almost shout. She still seems pissed. I would say she almost seemed jealous, but that wouldn't be possible.

"Oh," she begins, "I just assumed... I shouldn't have read your message. I'm sorry," she says, while staring intently out into the dark. "It's no problem at all Jolene. No harm done," I assure her, but she doesn't break her attention away from the window.

We are nearly to the hospital now, and she looks pale and in pain. When we arrive, I pull directly in front of the doors, and tell her to stay put. I jump out and rush inside to find a wheelchair. When I return to the car, of course I find her attempting to get out of the vehicle by herself. She really is not great at letting people help her. I position the wheelchair in front of her and at first, she looks as though she isn't going to sit in it. Finally, she sits down and begins rolling herself towards the entrance. I push the small button on the door handle to lock my car, and jog up behind her to take over pushing the chair. She looks back at me and says, "You certainly are not leaving your car parked there. They'll have you towed!" I continue pushing her towards the triage desk of the emergency room and reply with a smirk, "Then I guess we will have to Uber."

The nurse at the desk is looking at me with a wide smile on her face and she asks, "What can I do ya for honey?" Is she flirting with me?
Placing my hand on Jolene's shoulder, I reply, "She needs to be seen by a doctor. Urgently." Obviously. The nurse reluctantly turns her attention to Jolene, and asks for her name. A moment later, an older nurse with a friendly face motions us back to the triage room on the other side of the nurse's desk. I wheel Jolene in, and step just outside into the hallway to give her some privacy. She looks back at me with a small smile, and begins to answer the nurse's line of questioning. Finally, she is getting a taste of her own medicine with all the questions. I am out of the room, but not out of earshot, so I am able to eavesdrop on the answers she gives the nurse.

She begins with the simple stuff, "Name?"

"Jolene Chastain," she replies.

"Age?"

"25," she almost whispers.

"Race?"

"African American and white," she states flatly. Seems like someone doesn't like answering questions as much as she likes asking them.

"How did this happen sweety?" the nurse asks, while pulling Jolene's hand with the bloody towel away from the gash.

"I was shoved into a chainsaw at a haunted house," she answers.

Looking towards me in the hallway, the nurse asks, "Do you know who it was that pushed you? This is a pretty serious wound."

"It wasn't him," she says, clearing my name. "It was my date that did it. Dumbass Tucker Buchanan," Jolene tells the nurse, with a bit of venom in her voice.

"Well you need to tell dumbass Tucker Buchanan that he has some hospital bills to pay," the nurse says, with a laugh. And she has a point. I pull my phone out of my pocket, and see a text from June. "You got it, Boss!" she had replied to my earlier text. I hit reply, and type out my new message to her. "Find all of the contact information you can on Tucker Buchanan. He has some hospital bills to pay." I hit send just in time to hear the nurse's final question. "What's your boyfriend's name sweetheart?" she asks Jolene. "Huh?" Jolene replies, confused. "Your boyfriend, in the hallway dear. I need his name for a visitor's pass, or he can't go back with you," the nurse answers, matter-of-factly. Jolene realizes what she was asking, and quickly replies, "Oh, no. He is not my..." but I cut her off by entering the room and announcing, "My name is Ledger Clayton ma'am".