Chapter Fourteen
Charlie stared up at the apartment building as she waited for the taxi driver to get her small suitcase out of the trunk.
It was a newer complex with lots of glass and the morning sun bounced off the large panes.
There were landscaped gardens and an outdoor pool.
She could totally see Donnie living here in his swanky bachelor pad.
Taking her suitcase, she thanked the driver and walked toward the main entrance. After hearing Donnie had been hurt, she’d gone to see his folks. He had a bad concussion. Headaches, dizziness. Why had he not told her that on the phone?
Maybe because you hung up on him?
He had told his folks not to visit. So Charlie hadn’t asked permission. Mrs. Donaldson had given her his address and here she was.
A woman stepped out the front door, talking on the phone and Charlie slipped inside.
As she rode the elevator to the seventh floor, she questioned for the hundredth time her impulsive decision to come here.
What if he didn’t want to see her? What if he had someone there taking care of him? What if he had a woman here?
Rolling her case beside her, she reached his unit, still feeling nervous. God, this was probably a really bad idea. What was she thinking?
Before she could change her mind, she lifted her hand and knocked on the door. Seconds later, it opened. A blond-haired man stood in the doorway wearing a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt. Young, maybe mid-twenties?
“Erm, sorry. I think I have the wrong apartment,” she said.
“Charlie?” the man said. How the hell did he know her name?
“I...er...who are you?”
Blond man smiled. “I’m a friend of Donnie’s. He showed me a picture of you.”
He had? Dismissing that thought, she said, “Oh. I heard he was hurt. I wanted to stop by and see if he needed anything.”
“Stop by? Don’t you live in upstate New York?” Blond man raised a quizzical eyebrow, glancing at her suitcase.
Charlie ignored his question. She didn’t need to explain herself to this man.
“Is Donnie here?”
“Mackie, who is it?” Donnie’s voice carried from inside.
“You got a visitor,” Mackie said over his shoulder, not moving.
“Who?”
“Charlie.”
“What?!”
Disbelief filled Donnie’s voice. Or was it alarm?
“Can I come in Mr...”
“I’m John Mackenzie. My friends call me Mackie. You should have called first.”
“Then he would have told me not to come, like he did his folks.”
Mackie grinned. “Yeah. You’re right. He would have done that. Look, I’m not being rude, but now might not be a good time.”
“Why not? How bad is he hurt?”
“You just heard him. He’s still talking.”
She let out an annoyed sigh. “Look, I just want to see if he’s OK. His family are worried. If he doesn’t want me to stay, I’ll leave.” Why the hell was he still blocking the door?
When Mackie folded his arm across his chest without answering, she placed her hands on her hips and called past him.
“Donnie? Can you tell your guard dog to let me in?”
“No.” Donnie’s response shocked her.
“What the hell?” She was about to say more, but Mackie stopped her.
“Look, he’s not himself right now. It’s not a good time.” he said quietly.
“If he’s hurt, I can help.” Now she was worried. Was it more than a concussion? “I’m not leaving until I see him.” She stood her ground.
If Mackie thought his height and build could intimidate her, he was mistaken. At five foot two, she was used to being surrounded by people taller than her.
Mackie sighed. “OK. Let me talk to him first. Can you wait here a minute? Please.”
She nodded. “Yes. I can do that.”
Mackie closed the door, leaving her standing in the hallway. Her imagination ran wild. Was Donnie disfigured, scarred? Lost a limb?
The door opened and Mackie stepped aside, gesturing for her to come in, then he closed it behind her. In silence, he led her into the apartment. Donnie sat on the sofa looking like... well... Donnie.
“Jeez. You tell me I can come visit you anytime, and this is the welcome I get?” she said teasingly.
Donnie didn’t move, staring at a blank TV screen. His face was grim, his mouth a thin line, and his body radiated tension.
“What are you doing here, Charlie?” His low voice sounded almost angry.
“I heard you were hurt. I wanted to see for myself that you were OK. See if I could help.” She stood a few feet away from him, conscious of Mackie behind her. Donnie still hadn’t looked at her.
“Well, here I am. Alive and well,” he snapped.
“Wow. OK. I guess I’ll go then.” Her voice wobbled.
“Donnie. Don’t be an asshole,” Mackie said then added, “Sorry, for my language.”
“I never asked her to come,” Donnie said.
“No, you didn’t, but she came anyway. You were pissed when she wouldn’t answer your calls. Just tell her.”
“Tell me what?” Charlie looked between the two men. Donnie was still staring at the TV “Donnie, look at me.”
He didn’t move. She looked at Mackie confused, but his expression said nothing.
Taking a deep breath, she walked forward, and stopped in front of Donnie. Still, he didn't move.
“Donnie?” she said more softly, a knot of worry in her gut. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
She crouched in front of him and placed her hands on his. When he jumped, she frowned. His eyes still didn’t meet hers.
“Donnie? Look at me?” she whispered.
“You shouldn't be here. Just go. Please.” His voice held a note of desperation she had never heard from him before.
“Why won’t you look at me?” Her gut twisted as she looked at his eyes which stared through her to the blank TV screen.
Donnie moved his hands away.
“Mackie, get her out of here.”
“You can’t see me, can you?” She looked from Donnie to Mackie, but his friend remained silent. “Donnie?”
“No. I can't fucking see. Are you satisfied now? You’ve seen me. I’m blind. Go and report back if that’s what you need to do but get the fuck out of here.”
***
DONNIE WAITED, HAVING heard her gasp. Charlie didn’t move. He sensed her in front of him. He could still smell her shampoo, that flowery scent. Silence filled the room before Mackie broke it.
“Donnie, cut it out. There’s no need to talk to her like that. You’re way out of line.”
“It’s OK,” Charlie said.
“No, it isn’t. I’ll apologize on his behalf for him being such an asshole.”
Donnie leaned back on the sofa with a sigh. Mackie was right. He was being an asshole. Fuck, he wasn't ready for this. For telling people. But it looked like he was going to have to.
“Mackie, can you give us some space?” he said, forcing his voice to be calm.
“Depends. Are you going to stop being an asshole?”
“Mackie, don’t push it.”
“Charlie, are you good if I leave?”
Jesus. Was Mackie really asking if she was comfortable being left alone with him?
Charlie must have nodded, because Mackie continued.
“OK. I live in the next building. My number is in his cell on the table there. Call me if you need anything, or when you’re ready to go.”
“I will. Thank you,” Charlie said quietly. The condo door opened and closed.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” Donnie said.
“Yeah, well, I guess I shouldn't have turned up unannounced. What happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
She moved then. The cushion beside him dipped and she was next to him.
“Donnie, please. Let me help.”
“You can’t help. No one can.” Her feeling sorry for him, being upset for him, was exactly what he didn’t want.
“You can’t see at all?”
He could hear the fear in her voice. The sympathy. He hated both.
“No. Nothing. Completely blind. You don’t need to stay, Charlie. Go home.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Her voice was stronger. “After everything that happened in Toronto, we’re friends, remember? You should have told your folks the truth. And me.”
“Why? So you can all pity me? No thanks.”
“So we can help you. You have to tell them at some point.”
He knew he did, but each day he hoped he would wake up and see a change. “I will. When I’m ready,” he said firmly.
“What have the doctors said?” She seemed unperturbed by his mood.
“I have a concussion, and there was a little swelling of the brain. Inflammation. They don’t yet know the extent of the damage to my eyes.”
“The blindness could be temporary?”
“It’s been over a week. The inflammation is down, but there’s been zero change. They have to do more tests, but it’s not looking good.”
Sophie hadn't said that, but he didn't need a doctor to tell him the longer it went without any change, the chances of him seeing again were reduced.
“But they have not confirmed its permanent? If the doctors are saying they don't know the extent of the damage, then you can’t give up hope.”
“Christ. You sound like my team,” he grumbled.
“And you trust your team, right?”
“Yes, but they’re not the ones sitting here looking at darkness. About to have their lives upended. Their future destroyed.”
“No. You don’t get to do that. One day at a time. That’s all you need to work through right now. Don’t be thinking about all the ‘what ifs’ when we don’t know anything for sure.”
“Easy for you to say.” Yeah, he was being an ass, but this whole positive thinking thing was grating.
“Are you telling me that as a Navy SEAL, you spend your time worrying about the things that might happen?”
Fuck, where had that come from?
“This is different.”
“Why? Is this not a challenge you need to overcome? What is it they say about SEALs. Adapt and overcome?”
“Did you swallow the SEAL handbook or something?”
“I might have done some online research about SEALs after you told me. I was curious. And when I didn’t hear from you for so long, I was worried.”
Donnie might not be able to see her, but he could smell her delicious scent and feel her warm thigh pressed against his.
It was comforting as hell. She had flown here to check on him after telling him they could only be friends.
She cared. It meant a lot, and she did not deserve his moody, grumpy tone.
“I’m sorry I worried you. I’m sorry I was short on the phone. I’m sorry I snapped at you for coming here. It’s...” He stopped, feeling tears in his eyes and turned his head away. Suddenly, it was all too much. He might be a special operator, but he was also human.