Chapter 5
Chapter Five
DANNY
The moment Elena Romero left his office, Danny kicked a waste paper basket across the room and sunk onto his work chair, dropping his head into his hands. Frustration and shame consumed him. Why the hell hadn’t he just told her the truth?
Pride, that’s why. His stupid male ego had prevented him from telling her about his injury. Instead, he’d been rude, uncooperative and acted like a complete dick.
So much for a fresh start and making a new life for himself. He’d managed to alienate his fellow tenant on day one. All because he was embarrassed.
Why was he embarrassed? The truth was almost too humiliating to admit.
It was because she was attractive. Talk about pathetic.
He was thirty-six, for crying out loud. The sight of a gorgeous woman should not interfere with rational behaviour.
He was a feeble human male, unable to admit to a weakness in front of a hot woman.
He scrubbed at his face, trying to erase the shame.
It’s not like she’d even judge him for it. The woman was a physiotherapist, she treated injured people all the time. Admitting he had a stiff hip wasn’t exactly a big deal. It wasn’t like he was admitting to murder.
Running his hands through his hair, he stood up, sending the office chair skidding across the wooden flooring.
This was ridiculous. He needed to man-up, apologise, and tell her why he wasn’t able to swap offices with her.
Once she knew the truth, she’d understand his reasoning.
Simple. But leaving things to fester would only make the situation worse and cause an atmosphere between them, which would make co-inhabiting in the building a nightmare. He needed to resolve this immediately.
Stretching his neck from side to side, he strode purposefully towards the door and into the lobby area.
Blood pounded in his ears at the mere sight of the elevator door, so he headed for the stairway and began ascending. Pain kicked in after four steps. By step ten his hip was on fire. By stair fifteen the joint had seized up entirely and he couldn’t lift his leg.
Sagging against the wall, he waited for his breathing to settle before descending the stairs, coming down backwards, using one leg at a time, like someone three times his age.
By the time he was back in the lobby, he was faced with two options. Give up, return to his office and find a phone number for her clinic. Or overcome his fear of confined spaces and use the elevator.
It had been eighteen months since his nightmare had first begun, followed by a year of allegations, police interviews, stress and worry, throwing both their lives into utter turmoil.
Faced with prosecution and jail time, Connor had reached breaking point and couldn’t see a way out of his situation.
The idea of Connor feeling so hopeless and alone that he’d contemplate ending it all was pure torture.
The fear Danny had experienced as he’d tried to reach his brother that night would haunt him forever.
The thought of losing his beloved brother was unbearable.
He hadn’t cared about injuring himself in the process, or the sleepless nights that had followed.
His only focus had been on reaching Connor in time and making sure he was safe, looked after, supported and pulled back from the brink.
Focusing on his own recovery could wait. Supporting Connor couldn’t.
He stared at the elevator door, his palms already clammy.
The only way to overcome his fear was to face it head on.
He punched the elevator button, and when the door clanked open, he stepped inside.
The shake in his hand as he pressed the button for the third floor was bearable, expected, a mere inconvenience—he could do this.
But as the shake increased, morphing into a tremble that reverberated up his arms and ran through his body, it became hard to breathe.
As the door started to close, his panic levels increased. Black spots appeared before his eyes and he felt lightheaded. Instinctively, he jammed his foot in the gap to prevent the door closing and clamoured at the door, almost ripping off finger nails as he levered it open.
He became aware of the stairway door opening and Elena Romero stepping into the lobby to greet a woman who had come through the front door, but it wasn’t enough to counterbalance the force of his weight being propelled forwards.
The sound of Elena’s yelp as he smacked into her hit him as hard as the pain in his hip as he tumbled to the floor, taking Elena down with him.
‘What the hell?’ she said, thumping his chest. ‘Get off me!’
When he failed to immediately move, she shoved him with all her weight, sending him rolling away.
‘I’m sorry,’ was all he could manage, before almost fainting. Sweat was dripping off him, his was mouth dry, and his vision had blurred.
‘Are you drunk?’ she barked, getting to her feet.
He shook his head, wishing the tightness in his chest would ease.
‘I should report you to the police for assault.’
‘Pleased don’t.’ He’d had his fill of police to last a lifetime. ‘I just …’
‘Just what?’ she snapped, rubbing her ankle. ‘I’m waiting for an explanation.’
His brain was refusing to send correct signals to his mouth. He wanted to explain, to tell her about his injury, his aversion to confined spaces, to assure her he wasn’t dangerous, but all that came out of his mouth was a long, shaky groan.
‘That’s it, I’m calling the police.’
‘Please don’t.’ Danny lifted his hand, willing his panic to subside, which it only did when he heard Hugh’s voice cutting through the mayhem.
‘Danny? What’s happened?’ The next thing he knew, Hugh was by his side, one hand grasping his, the other stroking his face. ‘It’s okay. You’re okay. Just breathe.’
‘What’s wrong with him?’ Elena’s tone was less abrupt now. ‘Is he ill?’
Hugh paused, as if debating how much to say. ‘It’s temporary, he’ll be fine. You can leave. Don’t worry, I’ll deal with him.’
‘Are you sure? Do you need me to call an ambulance?’
‘It’s fine, really. I’ve got this.’
‘Well … if you’re sure. I hope he’s okay,’ she said warily, still rubbing her ankle.
‘Thanks for your understanding.’ Hugh smiled up at her and Danny could only envy his mate’s ability to be charming and in control.
Unlike him, who was a quivering mess on the floor.
Elena crossed to the woman who’d been waiting, wide-eyed and understandably confused. ‘I’m sorry about that. I’m Elena, let’s head up to my clinic. We’ll use the stairs.’ She glanced at Danny with a concerned look before leading the woman away.
Hugh waited until Elena had disappeared before turning his attentions to Danny. ‘Look at me,’ he said, using his assertive counsellor’s voice. ‘Take a few slow breaths.’
Danny focused on Hugh and the way his blue eyes expressed kindness and concern, the electric light above highlighting the red in his hair.
‘That’s it,’ Hugh said encouragingly. ‘You’re doing fine. Everything’s going to be okay. It’s over now.’
‘I … tried to use the … elevator,’ Danny said faintly.
‘Well, that was dumb.’ Hugh gave him a stern look. ‘We’ve spoken about this. Counselling first, action later, remember? Trauma recovery takes time.’
‘I thought I could overcome it.’
‘Of course you did, you’re male and stubborn. You see this situation as a weakness rather than a reaction to a horrific event. You need to stop expecting everything to return to normal overnight and accept the road to recovery is a slow one.’
Danny rubbed his chest, the wheezing easing slightly. ‘Sorry.’
‘No apology necessary. Can you stand up?’
‘I think so.’ Danny got to his feet, leaning against Hugh for support. ‘You smell expensive.’
‘Good to know.’ Hugh led him into his office and eased him onto a chair. ‘That’s it, I’ve got you. Slowly does it. Drop your head between your knees.’
Danny did as he was told, feeling a dull thump in his temples as he leaned forwards.
Finally, his heart rate began to slow, the shaking in his limbs subsided.
Hugh rubbed his back. ‘That’s it, take it easy. I’ve got you.’
Feeling less faint, Danny sat upright and rubbed his clammy face. His shirt was drenched in sweat. ‘What must she think of me?’
‘It wasn’t a great first impression,’ Hugh said dryly, reaching for a water bottle lying on the desk and handing it to Danny. ‘Drink.’
‘That wasn’t our first meeting. The first one was even worse.’
Hugh raised an eyebrow. ‘How so?’
Danny unscrewed the water bottle lid. ‘She asked me to swap offices with her, I refused.’
‘Understandable, given the circumstances.’
‘Except I didn’t explain the circumstances. I just said no, and rudely.’ He took a long swig of water, wishing it was neat gin.
Hugh frowned. ‘You didn’t tell her about your injury?’
Danny shook his head.
‘Or the claustrophobia?’
‘Nope.’
Hugh perched against the edge of the desk, one Armani boot crossed over the other. ‘Can I ask why?’
Danny shrugged. ‘Male pride?’
Hugh rubbed his temples. ‘For an intelligent man, you can be infuriatingly dense at times.’
‘Tell me something I don’t know.’ He took another swig of water. ‘The moment she left I realised I’d been a dick, so I was trying to get upstairs to apologise and explain, but … well, you know the rest.’
Hugh sighed. ‘The good news is, the damage isn’t permanent.’
‘I don’t see how. She hates me. She thinks I’m a drunk.’
‘She’ll see reason.’
‘You saw the way she looked at me.’
Hugh smiled. ‘Elena Romero is one of the kindest, loveliest people I know. Believe me, once she knows the truth, she’ll not only forgive you, I guarantee she’ll want to help you.’
Danny recoiled. ‘That’s supposed to make me feel better? I’m humiliated enough.’
‘Would you prefer her to stay angry with you?’
Danny flinched. ‘No.’
‘Then you have no option but to come clean. Pride be damned.’
‘Easy for you to say.’
‘And easy for you to do.’ Hugh rested a hand on Danny’s shoulder. ‘You just need to show her your true self.’