Page 45 of Reckless Vow

“No, she should stay,” Corm interrupts.

I shoot him a warning look. I’m not fucking interested in whatever sordid foreplay these two are having in front of me.

“It’s a free country, Cormac, and I’m choosing not to spend time in the same room as you.”

“You owe me a dance,” he drawls.

She laughs.

“Okay, kids, as much as your verbal sparring is riveting, where the fuck is Brook?”

Saar snaps her eyes to me. “She is sick.”

“Let’s talk,” Corm says to Saar, who steps back and looks at him with disgust.

“Sick?” All the hair stands up on my nape.

“Yeah, she got food poisoning or some bug. She tried to call you, but you didn’t answer.”

I turn to Corm. “I got to go.”

“Me too,” Saar adds.

“What the fuck, Baldo? I was going to introduce you to several people. People you must meet if you want to be taken seriously in this city.”

“Next time.” I turn and leave, tuning out his and Saar’s protests.

It takes me an ungodly amount of time to get to Riverdale while I try to call Brook several times and keep getting pushed to voice mail.

God, I hope she’s okay. I rush out of the town car without saying good-bye. The driver has been driving me for a week, so he should be used to my moods by now.

“Brook,” I call as I enter the house.

The light is on in the kitchen, but I head toward the staircase. Taking two steps at a time, I barrel through the long hallway and barge into her room.

“Brook.”

Her bed sheets are crumpled, but she’s not there. A whimper comes from her en-suite bathroom.

“Brook, can I come in?”

She groans, and the sound hits me in the solar plexus.

Fuck it. “Brook, I’m coming in.” I push the door open.

She’s in the fetal position on the floor by the toilet. I squat next to her.

“Baby, let me help you to your bed.”

Damp strands of hair are glued to her face. Even the T-shirt she’s wearing is sticking to her glistening skin. I try to scoop her up.

She pushes me away. “Oh God.” She scrambles to her knees and practically shoves her head into the toilet, gagging and then retching.

Fuck. I gather her hair and hold it while she heaves, stroking her back. She empties her stomach, but her body keeps convulsing with dry heaves.

A wave of helplessness and an overwhelming need to switch places with her constricts my lungs.

“I’m calling a doctor.”

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