Dragon of Central Perk (Exiled Dragons Book 11)
Page 1
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Book 1: The Missing Queen
Book 2: The Ripple Effect
Book 3: The Lost Tiro
Book 4: The Long Journey
Book 5: The Final Leg
Dragon of Central Perk
Exiled Dragons Book 11
Sarah J. Stone
Copyright and Disclaimer
Copyright © 2017 by Sarah J. Stone
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Website: www.sarahjstone.com
Contents
Title Page
Copyright and Disclaimer
Dragon of Central Perk
Witch Academy Box Set
Special Invitation
More From The Author
Chapter 1
The memories of the accident were still clear in Susan’s mind. It had all happened too quickly. The Suburban she was riding in with friends was suddenly flooded with light, and they were struck from the side by a semi-truck that had lost control on the slick bridge they were passing over after prom.
The force of the collision sent the SUV spinning out of control, a tire catching on something in the road, sending the large vehicle into a horizontal flip. The semi broke through the railings of the bridge and went sailing off the edge into the darkness. Screams filled the air as the SUV rolled several times and finally came to rest upside down on the opposite side of the bridge. Then, there was nothing until Susan woke up the next morning in the intensive care unit of the hospital.
After some initial confusion, it had been the doctor who had given her a lowdown of her less serious injuries and then delivered the harshest blow. Even now, her words still resounded in Susan’s mind.
“Susan, this is going to be very hard for you to hear. You have suffered damage to both eyes due to small fragments of glass from the accident. The corneas in your eyes are no longer functional. What little vision you might have maintained will go away as they heal and scar over. I am afraid the damage is just too much to repair. At some point, transplant may be an option, but it could be a while before that becomes a viable solution and, even then, there are risks involved,” the doctor had said.
Glass. Damage. Transplant. The words had whirled about in her head as she tried to grasp the fact that she was now blind and might be forever. Even now, it was hard to accept that she’d never see anything again, but she had learned to cope, to move forward.
“Susan? Are you going to answer that?” The sound of Harika’s voice jarred Susan from her thoughts. She had been so engrossed in remembering the events that had led to her current world of darkness that she hadn’t even heard the phone ringing. Pushing the button on her headset, she spoke quietly and calmly into the microphone near her mouth.
“Hello. My name is Susan. How may I help you?” she said.
“I’m thinking about taking my life,” the man said from the other end.
This was Susan’s life now. Once she had healed from the accident, she had started volunteering at a suicide hotline several days per week. Calls like this one were routine, and she had been trained well for them. Most were from teenagers that just didn’t know how to process the surge of emotions they felt. Others, like the one today, were adults who had gone through troubled times and just didn’t know how to heal from it. She managed to talk him into reaching out to others before ending the call nearly twenty minutes later.
“Susan, you have a call on the regular phone,” Harika told her, bringing the cordless over and placing the receiver in her hand.
“Hello? This is Susan. How can I help you?”
It was weird getting a call on the office phone. Everyone knew not to bother her here. In the five years since her accident, she had volunteered here and no one had ever called her on this line. In fact, both the number and the location of the hotline center were kept a secret to preserve anonymity.
“Susan! It’s Dad. I know you don’t like to be called when you are at the center, but I need to come and pick you up right now. We just got a call from the hospital. They have an eye donor for you. I’ve got your overnight bag in my hand, and I’m on my way to get you.”
Susan could barely believe her ears. She managed to say “okay” before holding out the phone for Harika to take from her. “I have to go, Harika. My father is picking me up to go get new eyes.” She knew it sounded weird, but Harika understood completely and let out a loud whoop of excitement for her.
“I’ll get a replacement on the way for the lines. I’m so happy for you, Susan. Are you scared?” Harika asked.
“Terrified,” Susan admitted.
Moments later, she was standing outside the center when she heard the wheels crunching on the gravel in front of her. She knew that it was her father. Since losing her sight, she had begun to pick up on the details that identified not only a car, but the specific car that her father drove. There was a distinct lull of the engine and an unmistakable sound that the tires made when pulling up in front of the center.
She waited patiently for him to come around and help her into her side of the car as her mother waited quietly. Though she was silent, Susan could smell her perfume and hear the rustle of her dress against the leather seats. There was no doubt that she was praying silently, as was prone to do when she felt nervous and unsure of things to come. Susan reached for her, touching her shoulder and feeling her squeeze her hand in quiet solidarity.
“I’m so excited, Susan. Let’s go. They gave us an hour to fetch you and get you there. This is one boat we aren’t about to miss!”
“I’d like to make it there in one piece, if you don’t mind. Otherwise, we won’t need to worry about whether I can see,” Susan said as he drove like a maniac toward their destination.
“I’m an excellent driver...excellent driver,” he replied.
Susan laughed nervously. This was a very big deal. If everything went just as she hoped, she would be able to see again soon. She cautioned herself again to not to get too excited. The doctor had warned her about the chances that this might not work. She had suffered a lot of damage that might prevent a successful transfer. As they pulled up to the hospital, she could feel herself shaking all over. This was it. This was the moment of truth.
“Good afternoon, Susan. It looks like we are going to see about getting some light back in your life today. I know that we have talked about all of this before, but I want to go over it with you one last time prior to taking you in to prep for surgery,” he was saying before launching into the details of the surgery.
>
“Okay,” Susan replied, but she knew her voice was no more convincing than she felt. He wasn’t her regular doctor, but a specialist called in just for the transplant.
“Basically, we will make a very precise incision around your cornea and remove it from your eye. We will replace that with the donor cornea and stitch it into place with tiny threads. That’s all there is to it. Afterward, you will have to wear metal eye shields for a few days to protect it while it heals. I don’t want you to think that you are going to suddenly see everything, because you will be covered in protective bandages for at least a few days. After that, we will remove the bandages and you will be able to see a bit, but it will take time for your vision to improve with the new corneal transplants. I just don’t want you to be discouraged when the bandages come off and things are still be blurry for a while,” he said softly.
“I’ll be happy to even see shapes at this point,” Susan confided. It was true. She missed the light more than anything.
“Good, because that may be all that you start with. We’ll just have to wait and see how much vision you have before we can know how successful the transplant was. You ready to rock and roll?” he asked enthusiastically.
“Like a guitar hero getting new strings, Doc,” she said with an anxious laugh.
“That’s my girl. Let’s get you on the road to center stage,” he said.
A nurse so quiet that Susan hadn’t even realized she was there touched her softly on the arm and guided her to the next room, helping her change into a gown and cleaning her face carefully. Within a matter of moments, she was on a table and an anesthetist was introducing himself before telling her what he was about to do. Her eyes were numbed, and she was given a shot.
“This is a very special sedative, Susan. You will be alert so that you can respond to the doctor as needed, but you won’t remember it when it wears off. Can you count backward from ten for me?” She barely made it to three before she faded into a deeper darkness than she already knew. Then, there was nothing for a while until she came to in what she assumed was the recovery area. There was still only darkness, and she felt a little panicky, though the doctor had told her this would be the case. Her mouth felt like cotton and she hoarsely asked if anyone was there.
Chapter 2
“Hello?” Susan called out a second time.
“Yes, dear. I’m here. My name is Valerie, and I’m going to take good care of you. What do you need?” she asked in a southern twang.
“Water. So thirsty...” Susan croaked.
“I can’t give you any water until the sedative finishes wearing off, but I will get you some ice chips to rub on your lips and let dissolve on your tongue. I’ll let the doctor know you are awake while I’m at it,” she told her.
“Thank you,” Susan said quietly.
“You’re welcome, honey. I’ll be right back.” Susan could hear her padding outside the door, and a moment later, heavier steps returned, followed by the nurse again.
“Susan, it’s Dr. Simms, your new favorite doctor. We have done a fantastic job on your eyes, and I think you will be pleased when the bandages come off. So far, everything looks excellent. We have shields and bandages in place to protect your eyes and will remove those in a few days,” he told her.
Susan nodded as the nurse slowly fed her tiny amounts of ice chips. She felt hopeful again. Three days was going to feel like forever, but she would get through it.
“All right, I’m going to leave you in the care of the nurse. You should be ready to go to your room in about another hour. Let me caution you that you cannot remove your bandages or shields under any circumstances. We absolutely cannot risk any damage or infection. Understood?” he asked.
“Yes, I understand,” she replied.
She knew it would be difficult not to jump the gun, but she also knew that she would certainly not risk screwing up what might be her only chance to see again.
“Okay. Just relax here with Valerie for a while longer while the anesthesia wears off, and then she will get you to your room where your parents will be waiting. I’ll check in on you later,” he said.
“Thank you, Doctor,” she replied.
Her heart was beating rapidly just thinking about what was going to happen when the bandages came off. It seemed like another eternity that she lay there waiting, having her vitals checked and rechecked, and being given periodic ice chips by Valerie. She was grateful when another nurse came in to help her into a chair so that she could at least get back to her room.
Several days later, she felt just as nervous waiting for the doctor to come in and remove the bandages.
“Okay, Susan. Here we go. Let’s see how well we did, shall we?” he asked. She felt his hands on the side of her head and the sound of the tape as he began peeling away the gauze layers.
“See you in a minute, Doc,” she said, her voice a little shaky.
“I certainly hope so, Susan,” he responded as he pulled away the last of the gauze. There was no light, no shadowy figures, no blurry images. There was only darkness, still. Susan’s heart stopped, and she felt a knot form in the pit of her stomach. She was going to be ill.
“We’re looking really good so far. Let’s get these metal shields off and figure out what you can see, my dear. Nurse, can you flip the lights off? We don’t want it to be too bright in here when these come off,” the doctor said after a moment.
Susan’s heart started again, beating wildly as she realized she had forgotten about the shields that kept out any light while she healed. Moments later, she saw the first grayish rays of light as he removed those and her eyes began to focus.
“Oh, my God! I can see!” she squealed.
Her mother gasped loudly and uttered her thankfulness aloud. Though they were blurry, Susan could see her mother turn toward her father. He wrapped his arms around her and stroked her hair. Susan couldn’t quite make out his features, but she knew he was smiling.
After a few small eye tests to assess her vision, he told her that her vision was good for this stage and would improve over the next few weeks. Once it seemed to even out and they could determine exactly how well she could see, she could get fitted for glasses. Susan wasn’t thrilled with that idea since she had never had to wear glasses before, but she supposed it was a small price to pay for having vision again.
“When can I go home?” Susan asked, eager to get back to her life, to start her life again.
“As soon as we finish up here and get your paperwork ready to release you. Does that sound good?” he asked.
“Sounds great! Thank you so much, Doc. You’ve really given me the world here. I don’t know how I can ever repay you,” she said.
“It was all my pleasure, Susan. Now, let’s get you some prescriptions for eye drops and instructions on home care and get you out of here. I’m going to turn you over to Nurse Tomlin over here,” he said with a smile that she could almost make out.
She thanked him again, as did her parents. As he left, she noted a tall, dark figure standing outside the window. He seemed to be looking in through the slants in the blinds as if he was interested in what was going on there. She wondered who he was, but the thought was overridden by her excitement that she was even able to see him standing there. Quickly refocusing on what the nurse had to tell her about caring for her new eyesight, she dismissed him from her mind, and the next time she looked over, he was gone.
With instructions, a handful of supplies, prescriptions, and the hideously awful plastic sunglasses they provided to protect her from the sudden glare of sunlight outside, Susan was excited to leave the hospital finally. As they wheeled her out, she saw the man again...at least she thought it was him. He was sitting quietly in a nearby waiting area adjacent to her room, and he looked up at her as she rolled past. She could see him much clearer now that her eyes had focused a bit and he was closer to her. In fact, she could see him well enough to make out the pain in his eyes. She wondered who he was waiting for.
“That man
. He looks so sad,” she commented to the nurse as they moved down the hallway away from him.
“Mr. Brennan…yes, he just lost someone earlier this morning. I’m not sure why he is sitting there. Perhaps he just still feels her presence here. People deal with grief in funny ways sometimes,” the nurse told her.
“Poor man. I hope he finds some peace soon,” Susan replied. She knew how he felt. Everyone in her accident had been lost. All her closest friends and the other driver. She, alone, had survived the crash.
Susan found herself wondering if she was hideous now. She knew the accident had left scars, but could only feel them with her hands. She had no idea what she looked like, even now. The nurse had given her a mirror, but her vision wasn’t improved enough to see herself clearly at the time. Maybe, by the time she got home, she would be able to see her own face.
Her parents had arrived separately so that one could take her directly home, and the other could stop by to pick up whatever supplies they would need once they knew her final condition. Slipping into the seat of her mother’s car, she spotted a pair of her mother’s sunglasses lying in the center console. She reached for them and slipped them over the wrap-around plastic ones the hospital had provided her.
At home, her mother parked and then waited for Susan to get out of the car. Knowing that Susan was a stickler for doing things for herself, she then walked on down the sidewalk to the front door and unlocked it, waiting for Susan to catch up a little before going in.
“The door is open, Susan,” her mother cautioned her.
“I know, Mom. I can see it,” Susan responded with a little laugh.
“Oh, geez. I’m sorry, honey. It’s just a habit,” her mother said, embarrassed.
“I know, Mom. I honestly always knew when the door was left open for me because I could hear you opening it and not closing it, but I knew you liked to tell me, so I let you,” Susan confided.
“I see. So, now we will be revealing just how much you have tolerated from your overprotective parents for the past five years?” her mother laughed.