“Jodi, where are you?” I ask urgently.

“I . . . I think . . . my drink . . . something in it.”

“Jodi!” I shout. “Where. Are. You?”

I’m met with silence.

“Jodi?” I shout again.

“I didn’t mean to call, I . . . Callum, I think I’m . . . trouble . . . need . . . help.” With every word she says, she sounds more incoherent. She may just be drunk, but I have a sudden bad feeling that whatever is going on, I cannot just ignore her.

“Jodi. Tell me where you are.”

“Georgio’s . . . Calluuum . . . I’m scared.”

“Is there anyone there to help you?”

“I’m outside. Needed fresh air. Now I’m confused. I want to . . . go . . . home.”

“Jodi, stay where you are. I am in the car and I’m coming to you now. Stay sitting up; do not lie down.”

“So tired . . . I . . . I’m gonna be sick . . .”

The sounds of gagging and spitting come over the speakers.

“Please come . . .” she says.

“I’m on my way. Stay there, Jodi.” Then the call goes dead.

I push redial and she doesn’t answer. I call again, speeding up as the call fails to connect again.

My heart is racing. This may be a ploy to get my attention but something about this whole situation isn’t sitting right with me. My instincts are telling me that she is in trouble, and I’d never be able to forgive myself if I ignored her and she was in danger. I can’t have another woman in my life hurt because of my actions.

I call Lucia’s number and she picks up after two rings. “Hey, I was just thinking about you. I shouldn’t be too much longer.”

“Luce, Jodi just called me saying she’s in trouble. She’s slurring her words and talking about not feeling well, and I’m worried she’s not in a safe place. She crying, and confused and was sitting outside a bar called Georgio’s. Do you know it?”

“Shit, Cal. Um, yeah. It’s two blocks over from the restaurant. I’ll text you the address.”

“Thank you. And I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for? It’s not you getting drunk and calling an ex-fling, is it?”

“I think it’s more than that, Luce. I’m worried something is going to happen to her, and I just can’t—”

“Cal . . .” Her voice softens with understanding. “She’s not me.”

“I know, but I couldn’t ignore her. I just hope I get there before anything happens. She didn’t sound very good at all.”

“Do you want me to meet you?”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t ask; I offered. Pick me up. How far away are you?”

“Five minutes?”

“I’ll meet you outside.”

“No, stay inside and look for me out the window. I don’t need you standing on the road late at night too.”

“Cal—”

“Luce, please.” My voice is a plea, one that she does not miss.

“Okay, Cal. See you soon,” she says without hesitation.

Five minutes later, I pull up outside the restaurant and Lucia hurries out, opening the door and hopping in quickly. “Turn right at the intersection, then it’s two blocks toward the waterfront.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll always have your back, Callum. The bonus is that if she is playing head games with you, I’ll really be able to have your back—meaning I’ll be able to tell her to her face to back the fuck off.”

Any other time I would’ve laughed at her suggestion, but having tried to call Jodi two more times unsuccessfully, my nerves are all over the place as I watch the road and turn as instructed by Lucia, driving until I see the sign for Georgio’s Bar.

I pull into the alley beside the bar and screech to a halt when I see a thin pair of legs jutting out from behind a dumpster near the end.

“Luce, get an ambulance here now.”

“Cal!” she shouts as I jump out of the car and run to Jodi’s side.

“Help!” I yell, hoping to grab anyone’s attention.

Running as fast as I can, I skid on my knees when I see Jodi’s body slumped sideways, her head against the ground, vomit covering the ground beside her.

“Jodi!” I ask, shaking her shoulders. Her eyes open slightly and she looks side to side but fails to focus on me.

“Something’s wrong,” she rasps out, her hands reaching for my arms and squeezing weakly.

Footsteps run toward us, and I turn to see Lucia bending down beside us. “Is she okay?”

“No. Something’s definitely not right with her. She’s weak, her breathing is labored, she’s vomited a few times by the looks of it, and she’s confused.

Lucia reaches out and grabs Jodi’s hand, squeezing hard. “Jodi? Jodi, I need you to open your eyes and look at me.” She puts two fingers on the inside of the other woman’s wrist and looks at me, her face ashen as she shakes her head. “Her pulse is weak. It’s too slow.”

“Where’s the ambulance? Fuck!” I spit out, trying to wake Jodi up again. “Jodi, open your eyes for me. It’s Callum. Please open your eyes.”

Her eyelids flutter and slowly open, her bloodshot gaze falling on me. “Where am I?”

“You’re outside a bar. You called me, remember?”

“Needed . . . help,” she murmurs slowly, not sounding at all like herself.

“The ambulance is coming, Jodi. You’ve just got to stay awake until the paramedics get here. Can you do that for me?” I reach down and put Jodi’s other hand in mine, giving her a gentle squeeze.

“You have to be . . . careful. He’s going . . . to . . . hurt you . . .” Her voice trails off as she closes her eyes again.

“Jodi, stay awake. You’ve got to wait for the ambulance.”

“Jodi, my name is Lucia. We really need you to stay awake, sweetheart.”

“Lucia? You’re with . . . Cal . . . lum.”

“Yes I am. Can you tell us what happened?”

She gasps as if she’s struggling for breath, her fingers weakly tensing in mine. “Jodi,” I say with another squeeze, causing her to open her eyes a little wider.

“So cold . . . So tired . . .”

“Jodi, honey, we need you to tell us what happened to you. We need to tell the paramedics so they can help you,” Lucia explains.

“Where the fuck is the ambulance?” I shout in frustration. A sinking feeling weighs heavy in my stomach as I start to worry that it might get here too late.

“He . . . Gr . . .” She trails off and her entire body tenses as she starts shaking violently. Her legs flail with every vicious convulsion as her eyes roll back in her head.

“Shit! Put her in the recovery position, Cal. On her side. I need to keep her mouth and airway clear.” Lucia holds on to Jodi’s head, keeping it still as the seizure continues to wrack through her body.

A minute later Jodi slowly stops shaking, but stays unconscious. Her eyes never reopen. Her chest doesn’t lift and rise again.

“Luce, she’s stopped breathing.”

“Fuck. We’re gonna have to give her CPR.”

“I don’t know how to—”

“I do,” she says urgently. “We’ve got to get her on her back. I need you to start chest compressions. I’ll do the breathing. Kneel next to her and link your fingers, one hand on top of the other. Press the heel of your hand over the middle of her chest, between her breasts, and press down about two inches. We need to try for about a hundred times a minute, but just keep going, don’t stop, okay?”

“Shit. Luce, where the fuck is the ambulance?” I ask, rolling Jodi onto her back and starting compressions, my eyes flick from Jodi’s pale, lifeless face to Lucia’s deep frown.

“We need to try, Cal. Keep going.” She leans down and wipes Jodi’s mouth as clean as she can before lowering her ear to listen for breathing.

Then I hear the sirens and my shoulders sag, the lead weight lightening slightly because help is close. My only hope is that they can step in and save her—that it’s not too late.

I continue the compressions until a paramedic runs up to me and tells me that he’ll take over.

“What’s her name?”

“Jodi. Jodi Malestrom.”

“Were you guys with her tonight?”

“No. She called me, sounding drunk, or more than drunk. She wasn’t making any sense. She said she thought she was in trouble and asked me to come. She couldn’t stay awake when we got here, and she’d been sick. Then she had a seizure and—”