Camryn - July
Hanging up the phone with Isaac, I feel giddy knowing he’s going to be back from touring soon. Excitement races through me at the thought of being held in his arms. It’s been rough, but the distance has helped us learn more about each other than just the physical. Although…I do miss his arms wrapped around me.
As I walk toward my bedroom to get ready for bed, my phone rings from the table, Mallory’s ringtone loud in the otherwise quiet room.
“Hey, girl,” I say as I swipe my thumb across the screen.
“Drop everything. Kris is in the hospital. She’s stable, but no other details were released.”
“What the heck?” I ask, incredulous.
“I don’t know. The cop called me when they couldn’t reach her parents.”
“Which hospital?”
“Mine. I’m heading there now. She was still in the ER when he called, but she could be moved by the time we get there,” she answers, breathless, as if she’s rushing around.
“Crap. I’ll get there as soon as I can.”
Damn, now I’m glad I hadn’t changed for bed yet. Sliding my feet into my flip flops, I grab my purse and hurry out to my Jeep Compass. Jesus, please make her okay. My hands shake so bad, I hit the panic button, sending the piercing sound into the quiet night.
“Fuck,” I cry out, tears blurring my vision. After several bumbling attempts, I finally get the damn thing shut off and climb in, drawing several deep breaths in an attempt to calm my pounding heart.
“Get it together, Camryn. She’s going to be okay. You won’t do her a damn bit of good if you get into a wreck on the way to the damn hospital.” I start the car and get on the road.
Stretching, I try to reposition myself in the uncomfortable chair. Mallory and I have been sitting in Kristen’s hospital room since we arrived last night, and my muscles are letting me know they are missing my soft mattress.
I glance over at Kristen laying so still in the bed. I still can’t believe what happened to her.
“Denny said she wasn’t stabbed at her apartment, right?” I ask, looking over at Mallory as she stares out the window. She turns in my direction.
“No, he doesn’t think so. Not enough blood.”
“That’s gruesome to think about,” I say with a shudder.
“Yeah. Maybe you’re getting soft at your cushy ass job.”
“Funny, Mal. Real funny,” I respond with an eye roll.
“Anyway, he said the majority of the blood was in her car. His theory was she was stabbed, then got in the car and drove home.”
“Why would she drive home after being stabbed? That makes no sense. Do you think this has anything to do with her stalker?” I shake my head as I turn to look at the bed. Josh was our former CrossFit instructor who became obsessed with Kristen after they only went on one date.
“I don’t kn—”
“Kristen!” I cry out when I see her looking around confused. I’m over to the side of the bed before I even realized I moved.
“How are you feeling?”
Kristen tries to answer, but all that comes out is a strange noise. There’s a plastic cup of water on the table, and I hold it up to her, placing the straw to her lips. After a few sips, Kristen tries again.
“What happened? Why am I here?” Her brow furrows as she tries to remember.
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Mallory coaxes.
“I remember getting off work, stopping to pick up some coffee creamer, then going home.”
“Well, at some point, someone decided to slice and dice you. The doctor says you have a five-inch knife laceration. Got quite a few stitches too. We don’t know when it happened. Denny called us when he saw you laid out in the parking lot next to your car. You were unconscious, so he called for an ambulance. You’d lost quite a bit of blood and went into shock. They got you stitched up and gave you a unit,” Mallory informs her.
“Jesus. Really?” I nod when she looks at me. Kristen moves her gaze to Mallory, and she nods too as tears pool in her eyes. The enormity of the situation starts to hit. We could have lost Kristen last night.
“It was the blonde from the store,” Kristen cries out, startling me.
“What blonde?” we both ask in surprise.
“While I was in the store, I kept feeling like someone was watching me, following me. I kept seeing a blonde woman in the dairy section, then over by the pajamas. She bumped into me outside, by my car. She hit me hard enough to make me stumble, and I remember my side hurting. I got in the car to head home, but the closer I got, I started feeling weird and got lightheaded. I nearly fell out of the car. I tried to get Denny’s attention, but I couldn’t. That’s all I remember. Can I have another sip of water?” I pick up the cup and place the straw to her lips. “How long have I been here?”
“Only a few hours. They stitched you up in the ER, then sent you up here for the transfusion and observation. More than likely, you’ll get to go home later this morning,” Mallory responds, and we all laugh. In our experience, you never get out when they tell you. It’s usually hours later.
“Has anyone called Derek?” Kristen inquires.
We shake our heads no as guilt settles into my stomach. Damn, I’m a crappy friend. I never even thought about calling him. Guilt flashes across Mallory’s face, and I’m guessing it didn’t cross her mind either.
“Good. Let’s keep it that way. He’ll be home in a few days, and there’s no point in telling him right now. Can one of you stay with me when I get out?”
“Yes, of course,” we both say at the same time, then chuckle. “What are friends for?” Mallory continues, squeezing Kristen’s hand.
A light knock on the door jerks my attention from Kristen. Denny’s bulky frame blocks most of the light from the hall.
“Okay if I come in?” His whispered question floats across the room before he looks over at Kristen, eyes widening when he sees her. “Oh, you’re awake. Good. I have questions to ask if you’re up for it.” Kristen tilts her head in affirmation as he walks in, then repeats the same story she told us.
“But I know that blonde from somewhere. I just can’t place her,” Kristen says, her brow furrowed in concentration.
“It’s okay. It’ll probably come to you. We’ve already requested the surveillance video from outside the parking lot. You need to stay out of parking lots, girl. It’s where you seem to find all the trouble. I don’t think I’ve ever had to request so many videos in a short amount of time.”
“You haven’t mentioned this to Derek, have you?” Kristen asks, hands worrying the thin, white blanket covering her.
Denny shakes his head no. “Please keep it that way. I’ll tell him when he gets home. It’s only a few days. No need for him to worry.”
“I think you need to let him know, but he won’t hear it from me.” He gives Kristen’s hand a quick squeeze, then flashes us a wink and a grin before walking out the door.
“That is one hunky cop. I might need to commit a crime, so he can use those cuffs on me,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood.
Kristen’s response of, “Maybe Isaac will have some cuffs for you,” has me blushing to the roots of my hair.
“Very funny. Now, how about we leave so you can get some sleep. You can barely keep your eyes open. We’ll be back in the morning, and I already let Dr. Daniels know what happened. I ran into her downstairs in the cafeteria, and she said for you to take the rest of the week off.”
The next morning as I walk into Kristen’s room, the nurse exits with a smile on her face. Kristen’s face lights up when she sees me bringing in goodies.
“A venti caramel macchiato and an omelet from the grill downstairs. Made with fresh eggs. No powder in sight.”
“God bless you,” she replies as I hand her the cup of hot coffee. Wheeling the table over, I place the Styrofoam container down along with the utensils. Kristen opens the lid and digs in with a moan.
“Well, I couldn’t in good conscience let you starve. Mallory will be here shortly. She was gonna stop by your apartment and grab you some clothes and stuff.” She nods as she continues to eat, and I turn on the TV to find something passable to watch while we wait for Mallory to bring her clothes.
“You think she’s okay?” I ask as I watch Kristen stumble to her room, just waiting for her to fall into the wall and pop open the stitches in her side.
We returned to Kristen’s apartment earlier today after she was released from the hospital, much to the opposition of Mallory. Kristen argued that it was fine since she had her new alarm system installed and she would be more comfortable at home. I don’t blame her there, but I’m a little leery myself about being here after everything that’s happened with her stalker. I mean, it wasn’t long ago she had her car vandalized in the middle of the night right in front of her door for goodness sake.
The credits start to roll for The Hangover as Kristen returns to the room, lays on the couch, and promptly passes out. That last pain pill really did her in. I reach for another slice of pizza while Mallory pops in the sequel. As soon as my hand touches the cardboard box, the lights go out.
“What the hell?” Mallory asks. “It’s not storming or anything. Why is the power out?”
Glancing out the window, I see lights shining in the next complex, and the street lights are a beacon. “The apartments across the courtyard still have lights. Is it just us?” I ask, a bad feeling settling in the pit of my stomach.
“It’s wrong is what it is. Let me wake up Kristen. We can head to my place.”
“I have a bad feeling about this.”
“Me and you both, sister. Round up the stuff we need, and I’ll get her moving.”
I locate my bag by the chair as I hear Mallory’s soft voice talking to Kristen. There’s rustling just before the light from Kristen’s phone brightens the room. Grabbing Kristen’s medication from the table, I throw them in my bag before the light disappears as Kristen walks into her bedroom. The sound of breaking glass makes my heart pound in my chest, and all I can think is we need to get the hell out of here. Hurrying to the front door, I wait impatiently for Mallory and Kristen to walk out of her room. An eternity seems to pass before I make out their shadowed forms maneuvering around the furniture. I send up a small prayer they don’t hit any of the items littering their path, or alert the people outside that we’re trying to get away. At the last second, I open the door as the girls hurry out and close it behind me with a soft click. Kristen’s already buckled into the passenger seat, and I slide across the seat behind Mallory and buckle my belt as the car starts with a throaty purr. Once we clear the complex, I let out the breath I was holding and contemplate whether we need to call the police now to report the break-in or wait until we are safely ensconced in Mallory’s apartment. Kristen’s phone rings from the front, but I tune out what she’s saying. A weird feeling comes over me, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, compelling me to look over my shoulder. At first, all I see is darkness since Mallory’s complex is not in a heavily populated area. The clouds part slightly, and my eyes widen at the shadow of a large vehicle speeding toward us.
“What the fuck? Mallory, there’s a truck headed right for us!” Kristen screams out.
I watch, terrified, as the truck barrels down on us. The truck clips the back end of the car, and I swear Josh is smiling from inside the cab before the car rotates, catches the side of the embankment, and flips over and over. My head fills with the screams of my friends, breaking glass, and crunching metal. The car stops with a bone-jarring thud at the bottom, the seatbelt the only thing keeping me from falling onto the roof. The blood rushing to my head pounds in my ears, making my head hurt. Or maybe I hit it at some point in the rollover. That’s logical. Someone is faintly yelling, and I realize Kristen’s phone is still connected to her call with Derek, but the dim light from the phone makes me realize it’s too far away for me to grab.
“Derek!” I yell out, unsure of what I need to do, and I swear Isaac’s voice is calling my name. Looking up, I catch Mallory’s gaze in the rearview. The relief from knowing she’s alive is overwhelming, and I must hold back the sobs building in my chest.
“Thank God, Mal. Are you okay?”
“I think so. What about Kris?”
“I don’t know,” I answer, concerned. I can’t really see anything but Kristen’s bloody hair.
Mallory reaches a trembling hand toward her rearview and pushes the illuminated emergency button. Quickly, she’s connected with an operator. As she’s describing the events, movement in the rearview catches my attention.
“Mallory! Someone’s coming!” I cry out. The question is friend or foe? Is Josh coming to finish us off, or is it someone who witnessed the crash coming to lend a hand? Knowing our luck, I’m guessing the former.
Footsteps crunch on the ground as I watch boots round the car. Glancing over at Kristen, I see her move, and hope she’s waking up, but realize she’s not moving, she’s being pulled from the car.
“Stop it, you asshole! You’re gonna hurt her!” I scream out, trying to get my seatbelt unbuckled. God, if he gets her out of the car, who knows what the psycho will do. Finally, the catch releases, and I land on the roof with a groan, pain shooting through my shoulder and arm. Fuck that hurt. As soon as I try to scoot toward the window, my ankle feels as though a knife is stabbing through it. Breathing through the pain, I crawl to my broken window. Small pieces of glass scrape my arms. The metal is compressed where my window was, and I squeeze myself through the opening, my leg catching on something as a searing pain lances through me. A hiss escapes my mouth before I can contain it. I don’t want to alert him that I’m on the move. Like I know what the hell I’m going to do when I get over there.
As I crawl by Mallory’s window, I stifle my scream when someone grips my throbbing ankle. Grabbing her hand, I start to pull her out, but the pain etched into her face makes me hesitate. When I see the gun in her other hand, I know her pain is inevitable. She may be the only hope Kristen has. As soon as she clears the broken window, she raises the gun.
“Hey, you fucker! Drop my friend,” Mallory screams out before the bark of the gun breaks the stillness of the night. I lie there on the unforgiving ground, my heart pounding out of my chest.
“Stay there. I’m going to check on Kris. It looks like the cavalry is on its way,” Mallory says as she rounds the car, gun at the ready. I wait with bated breath for her to tell me something, anything.
“She’s breathing,” she yells from the other side of the car. “But she’s bleeding pretty badly. I can’t tell from where. It’s pooling underneath her. I can’t move her by myself. I think my wrist is broken.”
“And Josh?” I ask, fear that he got away pounding in my veins.
“I don’t care about that fucker, but I don’t think he’ll make it with that hole in his head.” At her answer, I can’t help but smile. I note the sirens in the distance, the sound getting louder with each beat of my heart. Thank God.