by Kennedy Fox
Too many thoughts are happening at once, and I suck in a deep breath, but it's shallow. I need to calm down before my blood pressure rises, but I hate the insecurities flooding through me and not knowing what I'll be walking into when I return.
After an hour of waiting, the cab finally pulls up, and I grab my papers and get inside. I ask him to take me to Roxbury and will have to find the pharmacy when we get there since I can’t look it up myself. He talks to me while he drives, but my focus is elsewhere.
Cami.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
CAMERON
ONE WEEK AGO
After I rushed Eli to the emergency room, they told me I couldn't stay due to their lockdown restrictions, but I could call for an update. I was completely frustrated and angry over everything that had happened, and then not being able to stay with him made it worse.
As I drive back home, tears streak my cheeks, and I’m hysterical by the time I pull up to the road that leads to the cabin. Stains of Eli’s blood are on the seat, a reminder that he’s fighting for his life right now without anyone there to support him. I pull into the driveway and replay what happened just hours ago as I stare at the spot where they shot him.
When I get out of the SUV, I see the pool of dark liquid on the ground and force myself to look away before I have a panic attack. I can't stop glancing over my shoulder to make sure no one is around. My paranoia is in overdrive as I walk toward the front door and input my code on the keypad to unlock the door. As soon as I enter, Bruno barks and sniffs me. Chanel is lazily lying on top of the couch and doesn't even lift her head to greet me.
“Bruno, down,” I tell him. I’m still only in my sports bra and covered in blood. I need to wash up and change. The house feels so empty without him and the fear I have over losing him consumes me while I shower. I can’t stop crying as the hot water covers my skin, and I watch the red water pool to the bottom.
Once I’m in clean clothes and throw up my hair, I go to the sofa and lie there bawling for the better part of the night, hoping Eli will be okay. By the time we arrived at the hospital, he was pale and fading in and out of consciousness. Everything happened so fast that my head is still spinning.
This is the second time in a month that I've worried about losing him. My heart can't handle much more as I sob into a pillow. At some point, my tears dry up, and my stomach growls in protest because I haven't eaten in hours. I go to the kitchen and throw together a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on the last few slices of bread we have left. The groceries I brought in earlier are still on the counter, and thankfully, it's nothing but produce and boxed items; otherwise, I'd have to toss it from sitting out for so long.
I call the hospital with the satellite phone my parents had installed through our internet for emergencies, and right now, I could kiss them for it. When they told me they were getting one installed, I explained how ridiculous the whole idea was because we have cell phones. It's my saving grace, though I can't remember anyone's numbers other than Ryan, Kendall, and my parents'.
I need an update on Eli before I drive myself crazy with worst-case scenarios, and after I'm routed to several nurses’ stations, I find out he's out of emergency surgery and in the ICU. Since I’m not his spouse or related to him, they tell me they can’t give me much information, but that I can try calling back once he’s in recovery
I'm so unsettled that I don't even notice I'm pacing until I hang up the phone. The next person I call is Ryan. He answers the phone immediately, and as soon as I hear his voice, I burst out into tears.
"Cami, what's wrong?" He's on full alert, and I hate to throw this on him on top of everything else, but I have no choice.
"Eli got shot," I choke out as I cry.
"What?" He's nearly yelling on the other line. "Did I hear you correctly?"
"Yes. Two men followed him back to the cabin after he went to the grocery store and held us at gunpoint for our groceries. After they took our phones, one of them shot Eli in the shoulder, then they took off in his rental. There was so much blood, Ryan. By the time I got him to the hospital, he was barely conscious."
He's speechless.
"I'm worried they’ll come back for me. I don't know if I should try to get back into the city or if I should wait for him to be released." Assuming he makes it out alive.
"I know this might not be what you want to hear but do not come to the city. You're safer there, trust me. As long as the security system is on, and the doors and windows are locked, no one will be able to break in. That place is like a fortress. I can’t believe this happened. Dammit, Cami. You're gonna give me gray hair."
"I know. It was the last thing we expected, and then it happened so fast. I don't want to call Mom and Dad because they’ll demand I come home or hire a whole SWAT team to guard the cabin. And if I tell Kendall, she’ll drive out here even if I tell her not to. You're the only logical person I can talk to."
He chuckles. "I'm the only logical person you know. Period. Point blank."
I crack a slight smile. "I need to call the cops and make a report. Let them know what happened."
"Okay, keep me updated with everything. Send me a text if I don't answer. I'm checking my phone as much as I can," he tells me.
We say our goodbyes and end the call. I grab my laptop and report my cell phone as stolen and order a replacement. I pay extra for overnight shipping, so I'll hopefully get it tomorrow. After that's taken care of, I look up the number to the local police department and tell them what happened. I give them all the details I can remember, though it all feels like a blur as I run through it.
Recounting the events aloud has my hand trembling, and I feel the uneasiness in my body. The officer tells me they’ll need to speak to Eli, and I tell him where he currently is, but honestly, I’m not sure how much Eli will even remember. Once he knows the full story, he states they’ll look into it immediately. I don’t care about the groceries or the items we lost, but they deserve to pay for shooting Eli. As soon as that thought crosses my mind, my chest tightens, and I feel a panic attack surfacing.
Though I have breathing exercises, they don't always work, and right now, they're not. I'll wait fifteen more minutes, and if the panic attack doesn't subside, I'll take one of my anxiety pills. Knowing how hard it’ll be to get them refilled, I've used them sparingly. Time passes, and I grow more edgy. I rummage through my bag and find my meds, deciding it’s time to take one.
It takes nearly an hour for the clouds to fade, and while my head isn't fully clear, I feel more in control of my emotions. After everything I've been through with us getting sick and then this, I was spiraling.
I stretch out on the couch, and Chanel jumps up and sits next to me, then starts purring. She makes me smile. Moments later, Bruno jumps up by my feet and tries to crawl on me too, but I quickly scold him, and he leans his head on my thigh instead.
"You are such a big puppy," I tell him. "But we gotta have a little chat."
He looks up at me with his big dark brown eyes and blinks.
"You're gonna have to be a watchdog while your dad is getting fixed up." My words choke because I really hope Eli is doing okay. "Like, if I say attack, you need to rip someone's head off, okay?"
Chanel settles in and lies down. Bruno continues to stare at me as if he’s waiting for a treat.
"Got it? Bite someone's leg off or something. You're a big bad Doberman, so you better act like it if someone breaks in. Be ferocious and scary," I tell him with a firm nod. He readjusts his position, then leans his weight against me. I look up at the ceiling and suck in a deep breath.
I tell myself he’s going to be okay.
He has to be because I’m in love with him, and I didn’t even get to tell him.
The days have been grueling since Eli was shot. It's been some of the hardest days of my life knowing he's been up at the hospital alone, and I have no way to speak to him.
The guilt of it all eats at me, and I feel like it's my fault. If I wouldn't have
turned and fell, he wouldn't have tried to catch me, and the two idiots who were holding us at gunpoint wouldn't have been startled. Each day, I've beaten myself up for putting Eli in that situation. This is the second time I've put his life in danger, and it's really fucking with my head. It feels like me being in his life is all wrong even though having him in mine is what I need.
I've called the hospital every day since he was admitted, but they're swamped, so I’m continually transferred from the operator to the nurses’ station or even hung up on. Eventually, I'll get connected to Eli's room, but then he won't answer because he's passed out, then I start the process all over again to get an update on him. They won’t tell me anything specific, just that he's alive.
Once my new phone arrived, I was able to keep Ryan in the loop and also FaceTime Kendall. She happily told me I looked like shit but still poured an enormous glass of wine and drank with me as I cried. It was therapeutic and helped pass the time since I don’t know when Eli will be back.
Bruno has stayed at my heels, refusing to leave my side and even started sleeping in bed with me, but honestly, he's a bigger scaredy-cat than Chanel. The big doofus is growing on me, even if he takes up half of the mattress and snores like a human.
When I climb out of bed, my stomach growls more than usual, and I realize I have to stop eating cereal for every meal. When I walk downstairs, there's a chill in the air, and I glance next to the fireplace where there is only one log left. Another cold front is supposed to move through, which means I’ll need more wood. Sucking in a deep breath, I walk to the kitchen and decide to make pancakes, and smile as I recall the last time I tried when Eli was home. Of course, he showed me up.
I mix the batter, heat the skillet, then pour them in the same size he did. I carefully put the spatula under them one by one and flip them over. My mouth waters as I see the perfect golden brown pancake. I wait a few more minutes for the other side to cook, then slide them onto a plate, spread butter on top, and pour syrup.
I sit at the bar with my coffee and eat, satisfied that I didn’t burn them or the cabin down. I watch a handful of YouTube videos that explain the steps of how to chop wood. I know we have an ax, but honestly, I don't know if I can even swing it over my head, but I'll try.
After I finish my food, I change into jeans and boots, and just to amuse myself, I grab a plaid button-up shirt. When I walk outside, Bruno follows, being my protector. Bruno runs as fast as he can to the pond, and when he goes to jump in, I yell at him at the top of my lungs, but he doesn't listen and sloshes through it, jumping around.
"Oh for fuck’s sake," I mutter under my breath. "You're going to stink like shit!" I yell. His tongue hangs out of his mouth as he runs around the property, dirty and happy as can be. Bruno sprints toward me, and I squeal, quickly moving away so he can’t jump on me. The damage is done, so I don't even scold him for it anymore.
I find the ax in a stump and manage to wiggle it free, then grip it in my hand. I take a few practice swings, putting all of my strength into it. As Bruno plays, I grab a wheelbarrow and wheel it to the stack of wood on the side of the shed, and struggle to lift the pieces in. I wasn’t built to carry heavy shit, but I’m trying regardless. Once I have enough, I move to the cutting area and dump them on the ground. Grabbing a log, I place it down on the chopping stump but lose my grip and break a goddamn nail.
"Are you kidding me?" I groan, shaking my head. They’re long overdue for a manicure anyway, but still, that hurt like a bitch.
I try again and adjust the piece of wood. Grabbing the ax, I lift it over my head, putting all of my strength and body weight into it, and then the sharp blade crashes down and slices the log in two. I drop the ax, and my mouth falls open in shock. Soon, I’m jumping up and down with victory, then laugh my ass off. If my mother could see me doing this, she’d probably faint with shock, then ask me if I’ve lost my damn mind.
I repeat the steps, doing precisely as I did before until I have an entire wheelbarrow full of logs. As I'm rolling it toward the patio door, Bruno barks, and my internal alarm goes off. Immediately, I turn around, searching the surrounding areas and see him chasing after a rabbit. Placing my hand over my heart, I try to calm myself, then continue forward.
"Bruno!" I shout. That dog needs a Xanax.
I make it to the patio door, then slide it open. I carry each piece inside one by one, and neatly stack it next to the fireplace. My arms and body are so sore, and I don't think I've ever done this much physical work in my entire life. Knowing Bruno needs a bath, I go to the kitchen and grab the Dawn dish soap. If it's good enough for the ducks during oil spills, it’ll be good enough for stinky dogs. I go back outside and put the wheelbarrow up and wrangle Bruno to the back patio, then grab the water hose.
He jumps all over me, leaving muddy paw prints on my clothes, and scratches me with his nails. Bruno nearly knocks me over when he gets excited like this. I try to use my best Eli manly voice and tell him to heel, but he doesn't listen, so I resort to begging him instead of yelling. Eventually, he sits, and I run water over him and soap him up real good. Once he's clean, he tries to run off, but I grab him by his collar, and he shakes himself all over me.
"You're a little shit sometimes, Bruno," I tell him, but I'm laughing about it because he's so happy. "And now I need a shower too."
I open the door, and he runs inside, hyper as can be. He chases Chanel around the living room until she's had enough and runs upstairs. Water is all over the floor as he continues shaking and air-drying. With an annoyed groan, I clean up the mess, then try to towel dry him off. I'm filthy, and my back is already aching. Tonight, I'll try to make myself dinner that doesn't include a microwave while downing a bottle of wine. I'm going to need all the luck in the world to actually make something edible.
Eli’s been in the hospital for a week, and I still haven’t spoken to him. I think he’d be proud of how I've taken care of myself for seven days. Even I'm kinda shocked, considering I couldn't boil water before arriving here. I’ve chopped wood, learned to open wine with a corkscrew, and even baked homemade lasagna. Next up is learning how to change my oil and build a house with my bare hands. I laugh at the thought, but honestly, Eli is to thank for this. If he hadn't made fun of me and challenged me to do things on my own, I probably would've eaten TV dinners and ramen for a month.
Today, I slept in because I've stayed up late doing home improvement tasks after my homework assignments, trying to keep my mind busy. I hung photos that have been in a closet for years. I cleaned the cabin, did more laundry, rearranged the living room furniture, and even dusted the top of the kitchen cabinets. At some point, I won't have anything else to do but worry and waste away.
Calling the hospital is one of my everyday habits now. I'm transferred to the nurses’ station, who then tells me Eli was released nearly two hours ago and left in a cab. I wish I’d known so I could’ve at least picked him up instead. My heart races in a semi-panic because the cabin is only thirty minutes away, and he’s not here. Did he not plan to come back here? Is he mad? Does he blame me for what happened? I hate not knowing what he's thinking and hate even more that I couldn’t speak to him.
While I nervously wait, I make my second espresso of the day. Another hour passes, and there’s still no Eli. I know he doesn't have his phone and probably doesn’t remember my number, so I text Ryan and see if he's heard from him. I don't get a response, which only annoys me even more.
I’m nervous as hell and filled with worry. He wouldn’t go home without seeing me or taking Bruno, would he? Did he go to his mom’s? I'm literally driving myself crazy not being able to talk to him.
My stomach growls, reminding me I skipped dinner. I pull out the macaroni I made last night and reheat it, noticing Bruno is on my heels. I feed him a few noodles and tell him to keep it our little secret.
After I eat, I sit on the couch and turn on the news, knowing it's not what I need but still wanting to know what's going on in the city. It's been almost a week since
I turned it on. Before I lose myself in the scene unfolding at the hospital where my brother works, the front door opens. Bruno lets out a roar of a bark, and I jump up, my eyes wide as I spin around to see what’s going on.
Eli's eyes meet mine; his hair is a shaggy mess and his arm is in a sling, but he's smiling when he sees me. My hands cover my mouth in shock as my eyes water. I rush to him, and he immediately wraps his good arm around me and presses a soft kiss against my lips. Uncontrollable tears stream down my face, and when he puts space between us, he rubs the pad of his thumb over my cheeks and wipes them away.
"I didn't think you'd come back," I whisper, swallowing down the emotions that have been bubbling inside me for a week.
He searches my face and shakes his head as he tucks loose strands behind my ear. "Why wouldn't I come back, Cami? You're all I've been thinking about. I’ve been going insane without you."
His words cause goose bumps to trail up my arms, and my cheeks heat. "When I called this afternoon, the nurse said you were discharged hours ago, and I thought you didn’t want to be here anymore…" My insecure thoughts linger, and a small smile plays on his lips.
"I waited over an hour for a cab to pick me up. Then he drove me to Roxbury to drop off my prescriptions, then after another hour of waiting for them to be filled, I remembered I didn't have my wallet. After figuring out that mess, he got lost on his way here, but I didn’t realize it at first, or it wouldn't have taken so long.” He blows out a breath and shakes his head. “It's been a weird fucking day."
I feel so bad for him and wish I’d been able to help. "How did you pay for it all?" I ask.
"I gave him a handie," he jokes, and I roll my eyes. "The pharmacy is gonna charge it to the hospital, and they’ll add it to my bill. The cab driver is gonna mail an invoice."