CHAPTER Twenty Six
Seeing the broken window in the door, Ross knew he had an uninvited visitor, but he had no idea of the horrific scene he and Camille were about to discover.
Ross immediately noticed that things were in disarray.
When he saw Ike tied up and lying on the bedroom floor, Ross was certain he was dead.
Thinking that Shane might still be there, Ross peeked around the corner.
Once satisfied that Shane was gone, Ross bent down to feel for a pulse. Ike looked like hell, but he was alive.
Camille took one look at the lump of bruises and blood on the floor and didn’t recognize that it was Ike at first.
“Oh my God!” she said, noticing the silver chain bracelet Ike always wore. “That’s Ike! Is he alive?”
“Barely,” Ross said.
“I’ll drive up to the main road and get a signal so we can get an ambulance down here,” Camille said, starting to rush out.
“The hell you will!” Ross said, grabbing her arm. “We don’t know where Shane is, and we’re sticking together. Grab some towels. You can help me get him in my truck, and we’ll take him to the hospital.”
Camille didn’t argue. She ran to the closet, grabbed some towels, and gave them to Ross, then she felt for a pulse again.
Ike was hanging in there, but still unconscious.
Camille remembered seeing a sleeping bag in the closet and went back to grab it.
She unrolled it quickly and then gently pushed it under Ike, creating a makeshift cot.
Ross pulled the sleeping bag to the front door, and Camille helped him lift it into the backseat of the truck cab.
Once in the truck, Ross roared up the lake road, and when Camille got phone service, she called the police and told them to meet them at the hospital.
Before they arrived, Ike was starting to wake up and trying to sit upright.
“Lay still, Ike,” Camille said. “Just lie still. We’re almost to the hospital.”
Grunting and groaning, Ike was almost delirious. His eyes were swollen shut, and his face was one big bruise.
Ross pulled into the hospital lot and ran in, looking for some help.
In just a few seconds, a man and a woman came flying out with a gurney, quickly put Ike on it, and rolled into the ER past the area where visitors could go.
With Ike now in capable hands, Camille fell into Ross’s arms, exhausted from the adrenaline rush.
“What on Earth?” she said, putting her face in her hands. “Why is Ike even here at the lake?”
“I have no idea, but that could have been us, Camille. And I don’t think we would have been as lucky.”
About that time, Ross saw the police officers coming in the main doors and waved them over. It was a long interview, but by the time it was over, an ER doctor was coming out with some news about Ike.
“Your friend is going to be okay. He has some broken facial bones and a broken nose, and, of course, a nasty concussion. But the bruises and blood made it look worse than it is. He’s on a lot of painkillers, but he’s awake and asking for someone named Camille,” the doctor said, looking at Camille for clarification.
“That’s me. Can I go see him?”
“Yes, but only a few minutes because I’m sure the officers here want to talk with him as well, and he needs his rest.”
“Come with me,” Camille said, grabbing Ross’s hand.
When they walked into the room, Ike looked much better. They had stitched up his gaping arm wound and cleaned up the blood. But his eyes were black and blue and still swollen shut.
Camille went to the bedside to let him know she was there, and Ike reached out for her with his hand. Instinctively, Camille grabbed it.
“Ike, I’m here with Ross and a couple of police officers who want to know what happened. Can you tell us?”
Ike licked his dry lips. “I needed to see you,” he said, and then Ike was quiet.
“Okay, but who did this? What happened?”
After a brief pause that felt like minutes to the eager listeners, Ike began to share a few details of his ordeal. “I was asleep in my truck waiting for you,” he began. “He pulled me out and took me inside. He was huge. I couldn’t fight back.”
“Can you see at all?” the officer asked. “I have a picture I want to show you.”
“I can see a little,” Ike managed, and then he strained to look at the photo. “Yes, that’s him,” he confirmed after looking at a photo of Shane Simpson.
“Okay, I think that’s all for now,” the doctor said. “He really needs his rest.”
“Wait,” Ike said, squeezing Camille’s hand, not ready to let go. “Milly, I’m sorry. You were the best thing I ever had, and I fucked it up.”
Ross suddenly felt a little threatened and waited nervously for Ike to finish.
“I get it now,” Ike managed, but he was growing weak.
“Ike, let’s talk about this later. You just need to get well.”
“I came here to get you back, Milly,” he whispered before the extra dose of painkiller the doctor just administered took effect.
Camille was blown away, and for some strange reason, it made her feel so torn.
She had spent years with Ike, and even though the last couple had been sketchy and unsatisfying, Camille still saw the old Ike she knew from their beginnings at college.
Seeing him so helpless and so remorseful was messing with her mind, and she stood there, stunned and silent.
When she finally let go of Ike’s hand to let him rest, she looked up to see that Ross was gone.