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Chapter Fifty-Three
A wave of terror shot through Diana as Chris hit the floor. She didn’t have the reflexes or strength to catch him, but she tried to buffer his landing.
She rolled him onto his back, checking his breath and pulse.
Both were present.
Drugged. The wine had been drugged.
She felt fine. Or at least, any dizziness could be attributed to panic at seeing Chris collapse. But then, she’d only had a few sips.
She tapped his cheeks. “Chris? Chris?”
Nothing. Not even a groan.
Would the drug kill him, or was he just knocked out temporarily?
She tapped his face again, using more force. “Chris. Babe. Please. I need you. I can’t do this without you.”
Tears came with the words.
She placed a hand on his chest. His heartbeat was strong. His chest rose and fell with even breaths. Was it possible it was just a sleeping drug?
She placed her ear where her hand had been. No rattle in his lungs. Not that she’d know what that would mean.
His cell phone had slipped from his shirt pocket when he fell. She plucked it from the floor and dialed Freya, who answered immediately.
“Chris?”
“No. Diana. He’s been drugged. He’s out on the floor, and I don’t know what to do.” Her voice cracked as she stifled a sob.
Freya’s voice remained even, and Diana remembered her instructions from a year ago on maintaining control and composure. Diana was failing that class now, but was glad Freya’s training was ingrained. “Check his pulse. Is it slow or rapid?”
She placed her fingers on his carotid, where it would be most easily felt. It took her a moment—which caused a surge of panic—before she felt the steady rhythm. “I think it’s even. His breathing looks even too.”
“Good. Probably just a sleeping drug, then. How was it administered? How did they find you?”
“It was probably the wine. He’d ordered a bottle to go with our dinner that was delivered. I only had a few sips. He had two glasses, maybe a bit more.”
“He used a food delivery app?”
“Yes.”
“What phone are you calling from, the one that made the order?”
“Yes.”
“Diana, hang up. Drop the phone. And leave now.”
“I—I can’t. I can’t carry him to the car, let alone lift him inside. Not with my ankle—”
“You need to leave him. Hang up now.”
“No!”
“Diana, they aren’t after him. They’re after you. And they have this cell phone number, so they’re listening to us now. They know he’s down. Hang up the damn phone and go. I’ll do what I can for him from here.”
She hung up.
