by Kennedy Fox
"I can give you plenty of money," I speak up, wanting to dissolve the situation and for them to disappear.
"You can have everything in my car. All of it. Anything that’ll help your family," Eli offers.
His partner looks at me. "Come here," he demands, motioning with the gun for me to move closer. I don't dare defy him and do what he says. I stop when I'm standing next to Eli, both of our arms still in the air.
"I want your wallet, cell phone, and keys," he demands, and Eli gives him what he wants. The guy turns to me. "Your phone too."
I swallow, pulling it from my back pocket and handing it over. They turn and whisper to each other, and Eli glances at me. "Everything will be okay. Stay calm. They'll take everything and leave, and we can figure out what to do. We'll be fine. I promise."
Eli is always giving positive reinforcements, but I'm so damn scared that I don't know if I can believe him this time. Panic rolls in like a storm, and my breath feels like it's stuck in my chest. Seconds later, Eli has a coughing fit, and he needs his inhaler, but there's nothing I can do.
"What the fuck? Are you sick?” one of them asks, alarmed, then coming back over to us.
"No, he has asthma," I explain. "He needs his medicine."
Their eyes are wild like they're tweaked out as they dart back and forth between us, and I wish I could read their minds.
"You both need to turn around and get on your fucking knees,” he orders.
Eli wheezes, and I turn around to help him but slip on the gravel. He reaches to catch me, and then the gun goes off. The shot is so close, my ears immediately ring. It all happens in slow motion, and I see Eli collapse to the ground, and he's bleeding. There's movement and yelling behind us. When I glance over, I see one man jump into Eli's rental, and he peels out of the driveway with the other guy behind him in a truck. Looking back at Eli, I start panicking as the realization hits me.
"Eli," I whisper, seeing the dark pool of blood, and I try to put pressure on his shoulder. I'm frantic as tears stream down my face. I'm not sure what I can do, considering we don't have our phones.
He's moaning out in pain as he reaches up with his other hand, but I warn him not to touch it. The sound of his agony is something I’ll never forget for the rest of my life. There's so much blood. "Please don't die on me. Please. Elijah," I emphasize his full name, hoping to capture his attention enough to hear me.
I take off my T-shirt and place it over the wound, putting all of my body weight on him. Thankfully, his asthma attack wasn’t severe, and he’s breathing okay, but I’m still scared. "Hold this the best you can. We need to get you to the hospital."
Eli groans, and I dart inside the house and grab the keys to my Range Rover. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."
I reverse out of the garage, drive as close to him as I can, then get out and rush back to him. With all the strength I have, I somehow get him to his feet, but he's so fucking weak. I get him in the passenger seat, then buckle him in. My hands shake as I shut the door and run around to the driver's side. As I place my hands on the steering wheel, I notice his blood on my hands and arms.
"Eli." I put the SUV in drive, then speed down the long driveway that leads to the main road. He's fading quickly as he groans, and I try to keep him focused on my voice by talking to him. "Please, stay awake. Don’t close your eyes."
I reach over and add as much pressure as I can to his shoulder while I keep one hand on the steering wheel. I tell him how much I love him, how much I've always loved him, but I'm not sure he hears me.
"Please, baby, please stay with me," I beg.
The nearest hospital is almost thirty minutes away, and he's losing so much blood. Tears spill down my face, and I know I need to stop and focus because I have to get us there safely, but at this rate, I’m scared we'll never make it.
This can't be the way I lose him. It can't be.
Chapter Twenty-Six
ELIJAH
DAY 45
I wake up gasping, open my eyes, and notice I'm in a stark white room. Machines beep around me, and there's an IV in my right hand. Pain shoots through my shoulder, and I wince as I look around. My left arm is in a sling, and my muscles feel stiff from lying here for only God knows how long. What the fuck happened? Where is everyone? What day is it? I have more questions than answers, and it frustrates the hell out of me.
I press the call button on the remote that's haphazardly looped around the hospital bed. A woman answers and asks what I need, but my throat is so dry I can barely get out any words. "Nurse."
"I'll send someone in."
Leaning back, I struggle to get comfortable. Twenty minutes pass, and eventually, someone enters.
"Oh, you're awake," she tells me.
"Where am I?" I ask gruffly. There are so many thoughts zooming through my mind, but I try to focus. I have a feeling I'm drowsy because of the pain medicine they're pumping in me, but I also feel out of it and exhausted.
"You’re at Margaretville Memorial. I'm Patricia, and I've been your nurse since you arrived four days ago," she explains. “The doctor should be in soon." She’s wearing full protective gear from head to toe, and her kind eyes are all I can see, but they remind me of my mother’s.
Wait. My eyes go wide. "Four days?" I ask, clearing my throat.
"Yes. It’s nice to see you awake," she says sweetly.
Patricia moves to the computer, looking at the monitors around me. She types as she asks me questions about how I’m feeling and what I would rate my pain level.
The door gently opens, and a male doctor enters, wearing the same protective gear as Patricia. "Hello, Elijah. I'm Dr. Jenner," he tells me.
“Hello,” I say. “Nice to meet you.”
He steps toward me, checking the monitors. From what I can see on the screens, my blood pressure and heart rate all look normal.
“I was just about to tell him,” Patricia interjects, then smiles at me.
Dr. Jenner nods, then continues, “Your surgery went well. Being shot in the shoulder isn't an easy wound to manage, but you're lucky. A little farther over, and you might've not been so fortunate."
“You’ve been very lucky,” Patricia emphasizes. “No spiked fevers, no infections, and all your stats have been stable the past twenty-four hours.”
I blink. Surgery? Then I glance at my left shoulder again and realize it’s all bandaged in the sling.
“Gunshot…” I mutter as flashes of that day begin to surface, and then I remember the two men who followed me to the cabin from the grocery store.
“I was able to stop the bleeding, and with some physical therapy, you’ll be as good as new in a few months,” Dr. Jenner explains.
“That’s a relief,” I breathe out.
“Patricia will get you on their schedule, so you can meet with someone for a consultation before you go,” he explains.
“Thank you,” I tell him.
Dr. Jenner nods and gives Patricia further instructions before he excuses himself.
“The medicine has had you in and out since the surgery, but we started to wean you off this morning to see how you’d react.”
“I feel like I could sleep for another four days,” I say with a grunt.
She grins. “Getting shot and having surgery will do that to you. We’ll continue to give you pain meds until you’re discharged. We just have to keep an eye on your stats for another couple of days to make sure you don’t have any complications arise.”
Another two days? I groan at the thought. She begins talking about how PT will teach me some at-home exercises to do since the facilities are closed. But I don't give two shits about that right now. The only thing on my mind right now is Cami. Sweet Cami. Is she okay?
With the little strength I have, I reposition myself in the bed and sit taller. The nurse adjusts my pillow when she notices me struggling. "Where's the woman who brought me here?"
“You came from the ER, then the ICU, so I’m not sure. Unfortunately, the hospital isn’t allowing any visit
ors. No one’s allowed to visit.”
Well, that fucking sucks. I bet she’s been going crazy not being able to see me because I know I am already.
“Though, someone has been calling at least once a day asking about you but since she’s unable to prove she’s family, we couldn’t give her any information due to HIPAA.”
That has to be Cami. "Did she leave a phone number?" I ask, and she shakes her head.
I vaguely remember giving the man my wallet, phone, and keys. I think he took Cami’s too. Without my cell, I don’t have anyone’s number memorized except my mother’s, and the last thing I want to do is alarm her, considering how nervous she was when I told her I was sick. I'd call Ava, but she recently changed her number, and I don’t remember it. Basically, I have no choice but to lay here and wait for Cami to call.
I move a bit and wince. The pain shoots through my body and is like nothing I've ever experienced before. Leaning back, I tuck my lips into my mouth and hold in all the obscenities I want to scream.
Patricia looks at me and notices I’m uncomfortable. “You aren’t due for another dose of meds, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I tell her, though this fucking sucks.
"Do you have any other questions?" Patricia asks when she steps away from the computer.
"No, I don’t think so." I let out a sigh, hating that I'm in here with no communication with the outside world. "Thank you," I add before she leaves.
“Hit your call button if you need anything.”
“Oh, could I get some water?” I quickly ask, feeling thirsty regardless of being pumped with fluids.
"Sure thing," she replies with a smile.
She leaves, and I find the remote, then turn on the TV.
Moments later, she returns with a full cup of water and another with some ice chips. Setting them on the tray, she moves it closer to me. I thank her, and then I'm left alone, just me and the constant beeping. I take a sip of water, and the cold soothes my dry mouth. I can only use my right arm, which is annoying, but I know things could’ve been worse so I’m counting my blessings.
As I watch the screen, my eyes grow heavy, and I end up falling asleep. All I can think about is Cami and what she's doing. I hope she's okay and those men didn't go back to the house while she was there. I wish I could remember more, but the last memory I have is Cami tripping and me catching her. Then it goes black.
Two more days go by, and the hours pass in a blur. I go between sleep and watching the news, which doesn't help my nerves, but I can’t seem to stop.
Breakfast is delivered, and I raise my bed to an inclined position. Once I'm settled, the phone rings. I try to answer it as quickly as I can, hopeful it's Cami, but when I do, a man speaks.
"Hello, this is Deputy Pomfrey. I’m looking for Elijah Ross.”
“This is,” I tell him.
“Oh, good. I've called a few times but haven't been able to get through. There was a police report made involving you, and I'd like to take your statement so we can move forward with an investigation."
Inhaling deeply, I try to recall exactly what happened. "Okay.”
“Just start at the beginning, if you don’t mind. Whatever you can remember,” he says.
“Alright, well. I went to the grocery store, and as I was leaving, I noticed a truck followed me home. I didn’t realize they had pulled behind me in the driveway until two men jumped out and held me and my…" I abruptly pause. What are we right now? Before I get too caught up in my thoughts, I clear my throat and call her what she is. "My girlfriend at gunpoint. Took my wallet, phone, and keys. They told us to get on the ground, and when I did, I started having an asthma attack. That’s when she came to me, and the gun went off. I don’t remember much after that," I explain, and it hurts to relive it all over again. It’s all I’ve thought about for the past forty-eight hours, but repeating it aloud causes my anxiety to surface. I still can’t believe this happened amongst everything else.
"According to Cameron’s statement, one of them took off in your rental car while the other drove the other vehicle. We found yours totaled a few miles from the cabin. They ran it into a grouping of trees close and emptied it out before abandoning it."
"Great. Glad I got insurance on it," I say, shaking my head. Those two fucking idiots had to be completely tweaked out of their minds.
"Can you give me a description of them?" he asks.
"One said he had a pregnant wife and three kids. Both tall, around six feet with scruffy facial hair. Crazy eyes. They were driving a blue truck. Chevrolet. It was an older model, maybe mid-nineties." I think harder. "And the bumper had a dent in it like it’d been in a previous accident." It's coming back to me in pieces. I remembered seeing the truck in my rearview mirror as I pulled out of the parking lot, but little did I know they were following to rob and fucking shoot me.
"Any other details or information you can think of?" the officer asks.
"No, I don't think so. That's about it," I tell him.
"Great. If you remember anything else, I left my number with the nurse. I’ll call you if we find them."
“It might be a while before I get a replacement phone, but I’ll give you my number anyway,” I tell him, then give it to him.
After the conversation is over, I set the phone down and get resettled in bed. Moments later, the door opens, and Dr. Jenner walks in.
"How are you feeling today?" he asks.
"Better. Still in pain, but mostly okay."
"Good to hear. Your stats are looking great, PT said the mobility in your shoulder was already improving, which is fantastic. I’ll put in the order for your release papers so you can be discharged this afternoon."
For the first time since I got here, I smile wide. "Great. That's the best news I've heard all day."
“Figured you’d be happy to hear that,” Dr. Jenner says, then explains he’ll be prescribing me pain meds and some other antibiotics to take home. I thank him once again before he leaves.
When Patricia enters, she looks exhausted, and I tease her, asking if she ran a few marathons today.
“Feels like it,” she says with a light chuckle. "I hear you're getting discharged today. I bet you're ready to go home." Though I can't see her mouth, I can tell she's smiling by how her eyes crinkle at the edges.
I nod. "I definitely am.” I miss Cami like fucking crazy. We still haven’t talked, and I’m eager as hell to get back to her. “Quick question. Are there any pharmacies close by?"
"There's one in Roxbury, but it might take them a while to fill it. They're doing curbside, I believe."
"Okay, uh. Hmm..." I grab the hospital gown I'm wearing. "What about my clothes?"
"I believe they were thrown out. My guess is they had to cut you out of your shirt, and you were probably covered in blood," she explains. "I can check if we have anything that’s been left behind that might be your size. Or you can always leave in the gown."
I let out a huff. "Great. Is there a taxi that can take me around? My family isn't close."
She tilts her head. "Sure, I can call one of them."
"Thank you. You're an angel, Patricia," I say, grinning. She really has been nothing but amazing since I woke up.
Lunch gets delivered as I wait, but it literally looks like something Cami made on a bad day, which isn't saying much. I chuckle at the thought but can't force myself to eat it. Patricia enters with a pair of jogging pants and an oversized T-shirt along with a stack of papers in her hands.
"They're my son's and have been in my trunk for a while now. Might be a little big, but much better than that gown with the open back." She snickers.
"Thank you so much. I'd kiss you if I could."
She laughs. "You're welcome. You remind me of my son, so it's the least I can do."
"You're the best. Seriously," I tell her.
"I have your discharge papers finally. I'll need you to sign in a few places, then you can be on your way. I called a cab for you, and they’ll be here soon. I
'm leaving a mask for you to wear while you’re out. Be careful with your sling while you change. Let me know if you need help." Patricia shoots me a wink, then leaves. It takes me a minute to figure out how to do it one-handed, and she's right, they're large, but I'd take this any day of the week over that itchy gown that lets my ass hang out.
While slipping on my shoes, the only items of mine that were left, I notice blood splattered across the top.
I slip the mask over my face, and when I walk out of my room, it feels weird to finally be going home.
When I pass the nurses’ station, I wave goodbye and thank Patricia once again, then make my way to the elevator and go to the lower level.
Once I'm out of the main entrance, I'm shocked to see the nearly empty parking lot. Guess that’s what happens when visitors aren’t allowed, and only emergency surgeries are being done. My anxiety spikes as I sit on a bench and impatiently wait for my ride. All I want to do is talk to Cami and hold her. My dark thoughts appear as the fear of what the future holds consumes me. Is she upset with me? Does she regret the time we had together? Why hasn't she reached out? Everything feels so wrong without her, and I don't know if she's still at the house or what's going on. If anything, I just hope she's safe.
Cami’s the only person on my mind, and I can't stop thinking about her or us. I'm madly in love with her, and I don’t know how much longer I can go on without her knowing. I almost lost the opportunity to tell her, and I don’t want to wait any longer. When I see her, I'll make sure she knows how much she means to me.
The taxi takes forever, and all I want is to return to the cabin to see Cami and our pets, but I need my prescriptions. I also need my laptop, so I can order another phone and check in with my boss. After that, I’ll need to decide what my next steps are. Going back to my apartment is out of the question, but if Cami is no longer at the cabin, I'm not sure I want to stay without her.