The mind of a writer is a terrible place! 😛 Read on...if you dare! #romanticsuspense #sundaysample This week I'm sharing an excerpt from Grudge.
Trying to keep an eye on the road, and the other on Corra, Philip dialed Anita's number.
She answered immediately, her dread almost palpable. "Phillip? What happened?"
"What is Corra allergic to?"
"Why?"
"I don't have time to answer questions." He shot a sideways glance at Corra, shaking her with one hand. "Come on, open your eyes."
A second later he barked in the phone. "Anita, stop wasting my time."
"Cashew … she's allergic to Cashew. Where are you taking her?"
"The same hospital she took me to. Can you call Dr. Bernard?"
"Yes, and I'll meet you there."
"Anita."
"Yeah?"
"Don't tell Mrs. Bingham just yet. I don't want to scare her."
"Okay, but—"
He dropped the phone in his shirt pocket and braked in the
closest parking spot to the entrance. Racing to the passenger side, he checked Corra's pulse and breathing. Both were fast and faint.
He lifted her out of the car and kicked the door shut, ignoring the way his stomach sank at the heat on her skin and how limp she felt in his arms. Walking just short of breaking into a run, he entered the hospital.
A nurse came around the counter to meet him, motioning to an orderly.
"Food allergy. Cashew."
Phillip laid Corra on the gurney, while the nurse did a rapid assessment and then nodded at the orderly. He raced toward the elevator, with the nurse running alongside the stretcher. Phillip hurried behind them and tried getting into the elevator. The nurse shook her head and pointed to the side. "Next one. Third floor."
Phillip stabbed the button, begging the lift to work faster. When it arrived he shot inside, poking the button for the third floor.
"Phillip!"
He held the door for Anita, who ran inside buttoning her blouse.
"Where is she?"
He pointed upward.
"How could you let her eat something that can kill her?"
Rubbing the back of his neck, he waited for the doors to open. "I didn't know."
"How can you not know?" she asked, almost running to keep up
with him as he strode down the corridor.
He shrugged. "If she wanted me to know, she'd have told me. Instead, I almost took her life after trying to save it."
The nurse was in the process of yanking a curtain around a bed with Corra in it. Anita rushed toward Corra, calling her name. Her eyelids fluttered and she opened her eyes.
"Are you family?" the nurse asked.
Anita nodded, wiping away tears.
"You can stay. Sit in that corner. Here comes the doctor."
Phillip backed away, relieved that Corra wasn't dead because of him. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through the call list until he got to the restaurant's number. When he got someone on the line, he rubbed his forehead while pacing the floor.
"May I speak with the manager? I left there a few minutes ago with someone who took ill."
"Sure. Hold one moment."
"Good evening, can I help?"
"Yes, I'm sorry, I left in a hurry with my date who got sick. Can you tell me if there's anything in the Crispy Chilli Beef, the Hoisin Pork or Spicy Shrimp that would cause an allergic reaction? Specifically Cashew."
"Yes, the Spicy Shrimp and the Spicy Cashew Shrimp. It is possible that traces of Cashew could get into the Spicy Shrimp through our utensils."
"Thanks. I'll come and pay for the food at some point."
"Thank you. How is the person?"
"I think she's going to be okay."
"That's good. I guess we'll see you, Mr. … "
"Denham."
"And we can get you at this number?"
"Yes."
Phillip ended the call and stood staring through the glass-and-aluminum window. He'd let today serve as a wake-up call for him. Someone who truly trusted him wouldn't have left him in the dark the way Corra had.
She'd spoken openly about her trust issues, but keeping secrets that left her at risk of dying accidentally was something at a different level.
Phillip didn't want to assess how that made him feel.
If you want to find out more about Corra and Phillip, check them out at lrd.to/grudge
Trying to keep an eye on the road, and the other on Corra, Philip dialed Anita's number.
She answered immediately, her dread almost palpable. "Phillip? What happened?"
"What is Corra allergic to?"
"Why?"
"I don't have time to answer questions." He shot a sideways glance at Corra, shaking her with one hand. "Come on, open your eyes."
A second later he barked in the phone. "Anita, stop wasting my time."
"Cashew … she's allergic to Cashew. Where are you taking her?"
"The same hospital she took me to. Can you call Dr. Bernard?"
"Yes, and I'll meet you there."
"Anita."
"Yeah?"
"Don't tell Mrs. Bingham just yet. I don't want to scare her."
"Okay, but—"
He dropped the phone in his shirt pocket and braked in the
closest parking spot to the entrance. Racing to the passenger side, he checked Corra's pulse and breathing. Both were fast and faint.
He lifted her out of the car and kicked the door shut, ignoring the way his stomach sank at the heat on her skin and how limp she felt in his arms. Walking just short of breaking into a run, he entered the hospital.
A nurse came around the counter to meet him, motioning to an orderly.
"Food allergy. Cashew."
Phillip laid Corra on the gurney, while the nurse did a rapid assessment and then nodded at the orderly. He raced toward the elevator, with the nurse running alongside the stretcher. Phillip hurried behind them and tried getting into the elevator. The nurse shook her head and pointed to the side. "Next one. Third floor."
Phillip stabbed the button, begging the lift to work faster. When it arrived he shot inside, poking the button for the third floor.
"Phillip!"
He held the door for Anita, who ran inside buttoning her blouse.
"Where is she?"
He pointed upward.
"How could you let her eat something that can kill her?"
Rubbing the back of his neck, he waited for the doors to open. "I didn't know."
"How can you not know?" she asked, almost running to keep up
with him as he strode down the corridor.
He shrugged. "If she wanted me to know, she'd have told me. Instead, I almost took her life after trying to save it."
The nurse was in the process of yanking a curtain around a bed with Corra in it. Anita rushed toward Corra, calling her name. Her eyelids fluttered and she opened her eyes.
"Are you family?" the nurse asked.
Anita nodded, wiping away tears.
"You can stay. Sit in that corner. Here comes the doctor."
Phillip backed away, relieved that Corra wasn't dead because of him. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through the call list until he got to the restaurant's number. When he got someone on the line, he rubbed his forehead while pacing the floor.
"May I speak with the manager? I left there a few minutes ago with someone who took ill."
"Sure. Hold one moment."
"Good evening, can I help?"
"Yes, I'm sorry, I left in a hurry with my date who got sick. Can you tell me if there's anything in the Crispy Chilli Beef, the Hoisin Pork or Spicy Shrimp that would cause an allergic reaction? Specifically Cashew."
"Yes, the Spicy Shrimp and the Spicy Cashew Shrimp. It is possible that traces of Cashew could get into the Spicy Shrimp through our utensils."
"Thanks. I'll come and pay for the food at some point."
"Thank you. How is the person?"
"I think she's going to be okay."
"That's good. I guess we'll see you, Mr. … "
"Denham."
"And we can get you at this number?"
"Yes."
Phillip ended the call and stood staring through the glass-and-aluminum window. He'd let today serve as a wake-up call for him. Someone who truly trusted him wouldn't have left him in the dark the way Corra had.
She'd spoken openly about her trust issues, but keeping secrets that left her at risk of dying accidentally was something at a different level.
Phillip didn't want to assess how that made him feel.
If you want to find out more about Corra and Phillip, check them out at lrd.to/grudge
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