Naleighna Kai's Literary Cafe Magazine NK Literary Cafe Magazine - April 2018 Issue | Page 76

Chapter 2 “ Whitley, we don’t have a relationship! We have a situation!” Kurt barked into the Bluetooth as he merged his SUV from I-57 to I-80. “You low-down, lying bastard.” Whitley spoke in a whisper, but the viciousness she spewed couldn’t have been louder if it came through a megaphone. Her tirade was interrupted by muffled voices in the background, then he heard, “Take this hallway to the east elevator, then two floors up.” Calling Whitley while she was working at the hospital’s information desk hadn’t been the smartest move, but Kurt was too troubled to wait for a more appropriate time. She certainly hadn’t been concerned about what was appropriate when she showed up at his house a half hour ago. She turned her attention and menacing voice to him again. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are, calling here and going off on me.” Before he could reply, she ordered him to hold on. He could tell her hand was over the mouthpiece this time, but he snatched bits and pieces of the conversation. “Nell … outside … this fool.” Whoever Nell was, she must not have liked what she was being told because Whitley came back with a loud, “Girl, I’ll be back before your funky little nicotine break.” Kurt checked his speed, eased off the gas and bore left to get on the I-294 Tollway. The ride from his Matteson, Illinois home to his mother’s house in Burr Ridge would take about another twenty-five minutes. He set the cruise control to sixty since being distracted by Whitley might have him speeding again before he knew it. “Okay, I’m back,” she hollered over some clunker with a bad muffler that nearly drowned her out. When the noise faded into the background and he was sure she could hear him, Kurt started with, “Whitley, you need to listen to—” “No! You listen to me,” she snarled. “You lied to me.” “How many times do I have to tell you I’m not leaving my wife for you? I made that clear from the beginning.” His head was so tight that black and white polka dots were dancing around in his peripheral vision. Her voice faded in and out. “... should’ve known ... sorry ass ...” 76 | NKLC Magazine