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.