The Trainer

Welcome back again! Since you are here, I'm assuming you've read Parts 1 and 2 of this story, and you probably hate me a bit right now. I would too. I'm glad you came back anyway! And at least this wasn't too long of a wait, was it? This is the eagerly anticipated conclusion of The Trainer. As always, I'd love to hear what you think! I enjoy every comment and message, even the ones that tell me I'm in trouble. Especially those; they show me how much you care! As for the previous parts, a warm thanks goes out to my wife, to Broken Spokes, and to all of you for giving feedback. And now, without further ado, happy reading!

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"Jamie!" Amy scrambled frantically over to her dog, who was breathing heavily. She whimpered when Amy touched her. There was so much blood. Jamie's muzzle was covered in it, and a trail of drops through the open door showed that she'd done some damage to the attacker. There was a large pool of blood around Jamie's back leg, which was slowly expanding even as Amy looked at it. It made her feel sick and she urged herself to think. She needed help. Jamie needed help.

With trembling fingers, she looked for her phone, which miraculously was still at the side of the bed. The burglar must not have seen it in the dark or he would surely have taken it.

Amy acted without thinking. She called the first person that came to her mind. The one person who would know what to do.

"Please pick up," she pleaded to the dial tone.

"Amy? What...," came finally the groggy voice on the other end. A wave of relief coursed through Amy. She hadn't heard that voice in over a month and she hadn't realised how much she'd missed it. She had avoided any contact with Charlie. Trying to get over her, trying to respect her wishes to not engage with someone who was due to leave the island. But in this moment, there was no one else she could have called. She needed Charlie. She started crying, finally overwhelmed with stress.

"Amy, calm down. What's going on?" If Amy had had any concerns that Charlie may have been upset by Amy calling her, she was proven wrong. There was nothing but concern in Charlie's voice.

"She's been shot," she sobbed into the phone. "It's her leg. She's bleeding. Oh Charlie, I think it's bad!"

"What are you talking about? Who's been shot?" Charlie's usually calm voice gained an edge of panic.

"Jamie-ie-ie..."

Without needing any further details, Charlie got down to business: "Okay, Amy, listen carefully. Here's what I need you to do. I need you to tie something around her leg, higher up than the wound; a belt or something, or a tea towel. You've seen them do that in movies, right? Make it really tight. You need to stop the bleeding. Can you do that?"

"Yes, I think so," Amy snottered, wondering why she hadn't thought of that. She spotted the trousers she'd been wearing the night before draped over a chair. She ripped the skinny belt from around the waist and kneeled down next to Jamie, putting the phone on speaker.

"There's so much blood," she said, feeling herself get queasy again.

"Look where it's darkest. That's where the wound is. Can you see it?"

Amy saw a darker puddle in the centre of Jamie's thigh. The blood there seemed to well up when Jamie moved. "I see it," she confirmed.

"Tie the belt above it, Amy. Make sure the bleeding slows down."

Amy got to work, making Jamie yelp with pain when she pulled the belt tight around her leg.

"I know, I know. It's okay, baby girl. You'll be alright," Charlie was saying. It took Amy a moment to realise she was talking to Jamie and not to her.

"I think it's slowing down," Amy said, seeing the blood not forming any new bubbles.

"Great. Well done, Amy. Now I need you to very carefully put her in your car, okay? Wrap her in a blanket so you can lift her without hurting her. Make sure she's comfortable. Drive to the vet, okay? The one where we cleaned her up. I'll meet you there. I'll call and make sure someone is there."

Amy hadn't even thought that far. Of course the vet wouldn't be open. Her phone told her it was nearly 3 am.

"Okay, okay...," she stammered. She hung up the phone and got to work. She grabbed the biggest beach towel she had and wrapped it around Jamie, carefully avoiding her sore leg. She managed to get the dog in the car. Jamie was significantly heavier than the first time she'd handled her like this, all those months ago.

It was when she rushed back to her apartment to lock up that she saw the broken window next to the front door. The intruder must have broken that to get in. There was nothing she could do about it, apart from propping a left-over moving box against it from the inside and hope for the best.

Amy made it to the vet clinic in record time and was greeted by one of the vets she recognised from her earlier visits with Jamie. Charlie wasn't there yet but that was hardly surprising considering how far she had to go.

She helped the vet carry Jamie onto his examination table and watched as he carefully inspected the wound.

"You did good to stop the bleeding," he said. "The bullet is still in there, so that needs to come out. You may want to wait outside," he added kindly.

"But she'll be okay, right?" Amy asked with a sniffle.

"She's lost a lot of blood but it looks like the bullet has missed the important bits. I'll know more when I get in there. Please..." He ushered her to the door in a friendly yet determined manner and Amy could do nothing more than to sink into one of the plastic waiting room seats to cry some more.

When Charlie burst through the door a while later, she wasted no time. She rushed over and gathered Amy into her arms, hugging her tight. Amy sobbed into her shoulder, soaking Charlie's hoodie with her tears.

Charlie didn't say anything but just held her until her sobbing slowly subdued and her breathing calmed down. Amy resurfaced from Charlie's arms.

"I think I'm okay now," she sniffed.

"Are you sure?" There was a fierce mix of concern and anger in Charlie's eyes. The first aimed at Amy, the second at whoever did this to her. "What happened?" She asked at last. They sat down on the plastic chairs, Charlie still grasping her hand tight.

"There was a man in my bedroom. He had smashed a window to get in. He was shouting at me. He wanted money. He had a gun. And Jamie..." Her answer had come out in a factual, succinct way but when she got to the Jamie part, she burst into tears again.

"Is she going to be okay?" Charlie asked when she calmed down a bit.

"He's... The vet... he's not sure. She's lost a lot of blood and the bullet was still in there. He shot her, Charlie. The guy shot her! She was defending me..." Amy felt so guilty for letting her girl get hurt standing up for her.

"She's a good girl. And she's sturdy, Amy. If anyone can get through this, it's our Jamie."

Amy wasn't sure how long they spent alternating between Charlie coaxing more little details out of her, her crying in Charlie's arms, Charlie pacing up and down the room ranting about how anyone who would shoot a dog should be shot themselves, and both of them pacing because it was taking so long. Eventually they just sat side by side in silence.

"I'm sorry I called you. I didn't want to rope you into this. You're already so busy," Amy said quietly. They must have been here for hours. She had woken Charlie up in the middle of the night. The girl would get no sleep because of her, and surely she had things she needed to do in the morning. "You can go if you want," she added, really hoping Charlie wouldn't.

"Don't even think about it," Charlie replied. "You did the right thing by calling me. I'm not going anywhere." Amy leaned her head on Charlie's shoulder gratefully, wondering what she'd done right in a previous life to have Charlie by her side right at this moment.

The next thing she knew was Charlie waking her up gently from a restless sleep. Fatigue and stress must have overpowered her. The vet was standing in front of them, waiting patiently.

"How is she doing?" Amy asked, suddenly wide awake.

"She's going to be okay," the vet said with a smile. "She's going to have a sore leg for a while but she'll get to keep it. She'll probably have a limp but if you're careful that she doesn't overdo it in the beginning, she should recover well."

Amy rushed over to hug the vet and smother him in words of gratitude. He clearly didn't expect this. He tapped her back awkwardly and quickly stepped back to maintain a professional distance.

Charlie put her arm around Amy's shoulder and gave her a side hug. "That's great news, Amy. Poor little Paco is going to be disappointed he'll still be the only tripod though..."

Amy laughed through her tears of happiness as the vet continued: "She needs to sleep off the anaesthetic. That could take a few hours, so why don't you go home, have a shower, have some breakfast. I'll call you as soon as she wakes up."

A wave of panic rushed through Amy as reality hit her. She had to go home. She had to go to work. The clock on the wall told her it was almost 7.30 am.

"Don't even worry about it," Charlie said, as soon as the vet had left the room and Amy had outlined her concerns. "You work with Lucas, right? I'll call him and explain. How about we go get a coffee?"

Amy nodded gratefully and remembered that Charlie had told her she was barely functional without her morning coffee. She seemed very functional now.

As they left in Charlie's truck, Charlie spoke to Lucas on the phone. She explained to him what had happened. Amy only picked up a few words in the rapid stream of Creole.

Charlie just pulled into the parking lot of the coffee shop when she got off the phone. "He says to take the rest of the week off. He'll clear it with your manager. You already have holiday next week? He says don't worry about coming in before then. He's got you covered."

Amy nodded. She had taken some holidays to enjoy some time on the island before leaving. She thanked Charlie and vowed to call Lucas later and thank him too.

When they got back to the car a little while later, loaded with coffees and just about every breakfast to go item on the menu, Amy tucked in greedily. She hadn't realised how hungry she was.

"We need to go to the police, Amy," Charlie said calmly. Amy stopped chewing and looked at her. That hadn't crossed her mind at any point, but of course Charlie was right. "It's going to be frustrating and a waste of time, but we have to do it. Your landlord will need the police report so he doesn't charge you for the damage; so will the insurance if you need to claim anything. Did he take anything?"

"My bag...," Amy said, only now thinking about that for the first time. "It didn't have much in it, I think... Oh god, I have no idea what was in there!" She felt her panic rising. Had she left her camera in there? What about her iPad?

"It's alright, all that stuff is replaceable, okay? It sucks, yes, but you're okay, and so is Jamie. That's the most important thing."

Amy nodded, knowing that Charlie was right, but she couldn't help going over the possible contents of her bag in her head. It felt like such an intrusion that he'd even touched her stuff, not to mention having him on top of her, pressing a gun to her head. The feeling of violation was overwhelming.

Charlie had not been mistaken in her statement that filing a police report would be frustrating. First of all, she was treated as a naive tourist who had no sense of security. They asked her three times if she'd locked the doors and if someone may have seen her coming or going with valuable stuff. Furthermore, if it hadn't been for Charlie translating and occasionally talking back to the cop, she'd have a language as well as a cultural barrier to deal with. Eventually the cop concluded they'd go and have a look, but with these sorts of hit and runs, the chances of them finding anything they could tie to anyone were slim.

"These guys are opportunists. They take a chance when they see one and then they disappear." He made a gesture with his hands that illustrated vanishing into thin air.

"What about the blood?" Charlie said. "She told you the guy's blood is on the floor there. And he may have left prints."

The cop shook his head wearily. "It doesn't work like that in real life, sweetheart. That's only on CSI Miami..."

Great, now we get some condescending misogyny to top things off

, Amy thought.

She could see that Charlie was seething. "Let's go," she said quietly. Charlie agreed but not before making the cop promise they would go check out the crime scene right now, update their report, and call her when they could pick up a copy.

Without anything else to do, they went back to the vet to wait for Jamie to wake up. Fortunately that didn't take too long, since their visit to the police station had taken so long.

Amy gave a happy squeal when the vet brought in Jamie. Her damaged back leg was completely bandaged and taped up against her body and she had some sort of strap around her waist, which the vet used to support her. He explained that it would let Amy help her walk until she could put weight on her leg again. Amy was instructed to only walk her with the strap for at least three weeks to help her build up her strength. Jamie further had painkillers she had to take and she may experience discomfort lying down or sitting. She'd probably be restless for a while and she needed strict supervision so that she didn't overexert herself during her recovery.

"What about flying?" Amy asked, the thought popping into her mind suddenly. The vet looked at her confusedly. "I'm going back to England in two weeks. She needs to get on a plane with me," Amy explained.

There was a loud clang as Charlie dropped a stethoscope she'd been playing with. She recovered quickly but Amy could see the shock on her face. She realised she'd never actually discussed with Charlie when she was leaving. At first it had seemed too far away to care; then she'd had more important things to talk to her about; and when the date came near, they'd been keeping their distance from each other.

The vet seemed as surprised as Charlie was and shook his head gravely: "That's not going to happen. She can't fly until she's fully recovered. She can't be in a crate for that long with that leg."

Amy started to protest but Charlie said from the corner of the room: "We'll figure it out, Amy." Her voice sounded cold and business-like, nothing like the kind patience she'd shown all night.

"I'm sorry," Amy said when they got back to her car and carefully laid Jamie in the back seat.

"What are you sorry for?" Charlie's voice still lacked its earlier kindness.

Amy hesitated. What was she sorry for? That she was leaving? That she hadn't told Charlie? "That you found out this way that I'm leaving in two weeks," was what she settled on.

Charlie shrugged. "It's got nothing to do with me, does it? No need to apologise." Her eyes were fixed on some unknown point in the distance and her jaw was tense. "Jamie can stay with me until she's healed. I think it's best that she's with someone she knows and trusts, someone who understands how important it is to care for her properly while she's healing. I'll arrange for her to travel to you when she's better."

Amy had been hoping that would be possible but she hadn't dared to ask Charlie. She was devastated at the thought that Jamie couldn't join her straightaway and stressed about having to arrange new travel plans, but she'd feel a lot better knowing Jamie was with her second favourite person in the world.

"That would be amazing. Thank you so much. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"There's nothing to make up. It's what I do, I look after dogs that have been mistreated by humans."

Amy didn't know what else to say that could alleviate Charlie's sudden grumpiness. It was Charlie who spoke again: "I have to get home. The dogs must be starving by now. And you must want to have a shower, change out of those clothes." She pointed at Amy's blood-stained shirt. "Are you okay to get home?"

A wave of panic came over Amy at the thought of going home. "I can't go home," she whispered, hearing a tremble in her own voice. "I really don't want to. What if he comes back?"

Charlie's expression visibly softened. "He's not going to come back, Amy. You heard what that cop said, these guys are opportunists. Besides, after the fight Jamie gave him, he'll think twice."

Amy knew she was probably right. Yet, the thought of going home now made her nauseous. She took a few quick breaths but stopped when she felt herself get dizzy.

Charlie put her hand on Amy's shoulder, which strangely had an immediate calming effect. "You know what...," Charlie started, "the cops are probably going to be in and out of there for a while. Do you want to come back to mine for a bit?"

Amy nodded gratefully. Anything was better than going home, but going to Charlie's was the best place she could imagine in this moment. They agreed she'd follow Charlie in her car, and Charlie drove reasonably slowly and civilised for a change, considerate of Amy keeping up, even though she knew the way.

When they got to Charlie's home, Charlie lifted Jamie out of the car and carried her into the house. Amy followed hesitantly. She'd never gotten further than peeking into the kitchen and this was quite the strange introduction. In her modestly decorated, open plan living room, Charlie created a comfy bed for Jamie out of some pillows and blankets and the dog promptly fell asleep again.

Amy sat down on the sofa and immediately felt her whole body getting heavier. She hadn't realised how completely exhausted she was. She was vaguely aware of Charlie handing her a cup of tea and urging her to lie down on the sofa. The girl also asked her some questions that seemed completely out of place, but Amy thought she managed to answer them. When Charlie asked about her flight details, she pulled up the email with the confirmation on her phone and handed it to Charlie. So many questions, and her eyelids were getting so heavy.

When Amy woke up, it took her a moment to realise where she was. It wasn't until she saw Charlie curled up asleep on a blanket next to Jamie that she remembered everything that had happened. She got up quietly and sat next to them. She stroked Jamie's head and looked at the two sleeping figures, feeling nothing but affection.

She wasn't sure what woke Charlie, but the girl stirred and opened her eyes. Seeing Amy next to her, she sat up and stretched, yawning loudly. Her curly hair stood up on all sides and she reminded Amy most of a baby animal.

"Hey," Charlie said with a smile. "Did you have a good sleep?" Amy admitted that she'd been dead to the world. Charlie nodded. "Me too."

Then she seemed to remember something. "So, your bank card is blocked. I didn't order a new one because it would take longer than two weeks to arrive anyway. I spoke to your landlord. He was very understanding. He's going to get the window replaced and the locks changed. And I've cancelled Jamie's flight." A slight frown formed on her face as she mentioned the travel plans, but she recovered quickly, focussing on practicalities. "They couldn't refund the money but you should have a voucher in your email, which we can use once she can fly again. Oh, and the police called. They are done with their investigation at your place and we can pick up a copy of the police report."

Amy looked at her in shock. "You did all that while I was sleeping?" Charlie shrugged as if it was nothing, but she must have pulled some serious strings. And impersonated Amy, more than once. "How are you so good at this?" She asked then.

"It's not my first robbery. Or my first gunshot wound. Sadly." As usual, she didn't elaborate, but Amy sensed that as much as she sounded casual, robberies and gunshot wounds weren't exactly the order of the day for her either.