Something was wrong. Where was he? Something had happened to Dalton; I just knew it.
Sensing I was about to lose my cool, I knew I needed to get out of the restaurant before I exploded. What the hell was happening to me? Complete and utter panic consumed me as I waved Richard over.
“I’m really sorry,” I told my waiter. “I guess he’s not coming. Can I just get the check for the bread and the wine?” My mouth was so cottony with fear, I was surprised I could even get the words out.
Richard disappeared quickly before returning empty-handed. “My manager says it’s on the house, miss. I’m sorry about your date.” He looked so sympathetic, as if I’d just been stood up. “Are you okay? Do you need me to call someone?”
Dazed, I shook my head. “I’ll be fine, thanks.”
My stomach twisted as anxiety washed through me. Terror, sadness, and an ache there were no words for enveloped me. The walls closed in around me, and I desperately needed to get the fuck out of there before I got sick all over their beautiful imported flooring.
I shoved out of the chair and raced out of the restaurant, thankful that my legs moved me at all. Not caring about the concerned looks in my wake, I barely noted the tears spilling down my cheeks, blurring my vision as I raced for the security of my car. Once I was locked inside, my panic only continued to grow.
My heart was beating so violently that I was convinced I was having a heart attack. This wasn’t normal, what I was experiencing. I needed to go to the hospital, but I couldn’t drive there.
I couldn’t believe that I was going to die in a fucking parking lot. I opened my mouth wider, trying to suck in more air, to take deeper breaths, but my chest refused. It felt like it was caving in on top of me each time I tried. I was definitely dying.
Pressing the speed dial button for Kristy, I rocked in my seat as the sound of ringing filled my ears.
“What’s up, hooker?” she said cheerfully.
“Something’s wrong,” I choked out through my tears. “I think I’m dying.”
“What? You’re not dying. What’s wrong? Are you okay? Cammie, what happened?”
Kristy’s concern should have been soothing, but it did nothing to ease my current state of mind. I swiped at my wet cheeks, trying not to sob as I spoke.
“Dalton didn’t show up. We had a date and he never showed. But I think I’m having a heart attack.”
“Well, I’m sure he just got tied up at work or something,” she said, attempting to calm me down, but it only made things worse. “Did you try to call him?”
I wanted to reach through the airwaves and strangle her. “Of course I tried to call him. It went straight to voice mail. Did you hear me about the heart attack?”
“Well, that means his phone is off. Maybe he’s still at work?” she suggested. “Or sleeping?”
Why wasn’t she listening to me? Why wasn’t she helping me?
“Kristy!” I cried and couldn’t stop the tears. “I’m completely freaking out right now. Can you come get me? Please? Something is wrong with me and I can’t drive.”
“I’ll be right there. Graziano’s, right?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Once I’d ended the call, I buried my head in my hands and sobbed. Thoughts of worst-case scenarios filled my mind, holding me in their grip. If something had happened to Dalton, I’d never know. No one would call me, would they? Dalton could be hurt or worse, and I’d never fucking hear about it because no one knew that I even existed. These nightmarish thoughts niggled in the back of my mind, and I tried my best to toss them away, ignore them, give them no life, but they refused to leave. They took root in my brain and grew to epic proportions.
Something had happened to Dalton, something bad; I knew it. And there was nothing I could do about it.
“I’m here, I’m here.” Kristy’s voice rang out from the passenger seat as she entered it through the unlocked door.
I looked over at her, wondering if I looked as insane as I felt. “You have to take me to the hospital. Please. Something is definitely wrong with me.”
A concerned expression crossed her face as she reached out and touched my shoulder. “I think you’re having a panic attack. Just breathe.”
“I can’t fucking breathe!” I screamed out at her. She wasn’t listening, and I was going to die because she wouldn’t listen. “Take me to a hospital or call 911. Your choice.”
“Okay, let’s go. But we’re taking my car,” she said firmly, her tone allowing me no room to argue.
She jumped out and came over to the driver’s side to help me, then hustled me over to her car. Once she had me settled, she drove like a bat out of hell, and I probably should have been relieved, but her new sense of urgency only fueled my panic.
“I can’t breathe,” I squeaked out, pressing a trembling hand to my chest. “Every time I try to breathe, it feels like no air will come in. You can’t live without air, Kristy.”
“I know. I know,” she said in a soothing voice. “It’s going to be okay. We’re almost there.” She threw me a quick glance, sympathy filling her eyes as she navigated between me and the road.
Once at the hospital, I overheard Kristy yelling at someone at the check-in counter. The woman peered around Kristy’s shoulder and glanced at me before nodding her head, probably agreeing with my assessment about my impending death.