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 visitors. 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."