Chapter 39 39
Harmony's POV
The call from Benji had stayed with me all through Thursday and Friday morning, buzzing in my brain like an angry wasp. I couldn’t shake the fear. My older brother was a parasite, the kind of person who constantly surrounded himself with thugs anx low-level criminals. People who resolved their debts with violence.
Growing up, Benji was never the protective older sibling. He used to steal my savings, lie to our mother, and drag our family name through the mud before running off when things got hot. He had always run with the wrong crowd. And if Benji said he was coming to find me because he needed five hundred dollars, I knew that he meant every word of it. I knew he would turn up at my apartment, or worse, corner me at the clinic. I had to keep myself safe, but my bank account was completely empty. I had no money for him.
By the time I reached Roman’s apartment on Friday afternoon, my mind was spinning with desperate math, trying to figure out who I could borrow five hundred dollars from without revealing the dirty reality of my life.
I pushed the door open, expecting the usual clutter of hockey gear and protein shakes, but the entire living room looked different. The coffee table had been pushed against the wall, and the heavy leather chairs were cleared out. In their place, three blue yoga mats were spread across the hardwood floor.
Nurse Sarah was bending over, smoothing the edge of the furthest mat while humming a cheerful tune. She looked up when the door opened, her face brightening with a warm smile.
“Miss Sinclair, wonderful timing,” Sarah said, dusting off her hands as she stood up. “I decided we needed a change of scenery for today’s rehabilitation. I'm arranging this area so we can start the physiotherapy exercise session right away.”
“Right. Good,” I said. My voice sounded flat and snappy.
The cheerful smile immediately faded from Sarah’s face, replaced by a slight knitting of her eyebrows. She looked at me closely, clearly noticing that I was completely out of it. I knew I was acting distant and unprofessional, but I couldn't bring myself to care. My safety was on the line. I just wanted to get through these hours, collect my thoughts and go home to figure out how to avoid getting my life ruined by Benji.
“Is everything all right?” Sarah asked.
I shook my head. “Where is Mr Foster?”
Before Sarah could reply, the door to the master bedroom opened. Roman stepped out, wearing a pair of grey athletic shorts and a loose t-shirt.
“I don’t see the need for all of this, Sarah,” He announced, gesturing to the yoga mats on the floor before turning his eyes toward me. “Coach Bailey already cleared me to play this morning. I’m playing in tomorrow’s match.”
"That doesn't mean much." I replied. "If you aren’t prepared physically, your knee will collapse within the first five minutes on the ice.”
Roman let out a short, rough laugh, crossing his arms over his chest. “Do you know better than Coach Bailey? Maybe you just don’t want to see me go, Harmony. You like having me around too much.”
I scoffed loudly, rolling my eyes to hide the sudden spike of irritation. “I am a professional, Roman. I will still be here until you get fully back to health, regardless of what your coach thinks. Can we please get down to the session quickly so I can go? I've other places to be today.”
Roman didn't move immediately. He stood there, his green eyes boring into mine with intense curiosity. “Fine, let's get it over with.”
Sarah quickly moved to the side, holding her clipboard, though she kept throwing worried glances in my direction.
“So, we are starting with basic single-leg stability tests,” I started. "Stand on your injured leg. Keep your core tight and lift your left foot three inches off the ground. Hold it for thirty seconds.”
Roman sighed, lifting his foot. Within five seconds, his ankle began to wobble violently. His knee trembled, and he had to drop his left foot back down to the mat to keep from falling over.
“Again,” I commanded. “And keep your weight centered. Stop leaning to the right.”
He tried a second time, but the moment his foot left the floor, his posture broke completely. He groaned, swearing under his breath as he staggered sideways off the mat.
“You aren’t even trying!” I snapped angrily. My anxiety about Benji was bubbling over, turning into pure frustration. “This is absolute rubbish, Roman! You are doing rubbish work right now. If you honestly think you can skate tomorrow with this pathetic level of balance, you are completely delusional.”
The room went dead silent. Roman's face was a mix of shock and anger. From the sideline, Sarah gave sharp gasp. She was glaring at me with deep disapproval.
“That was entirely uncalled for, Miss Sinclair,” Sarah grumbled. “You are here as a medical professional, not to vent your personal frustrations on a recovering patient. If your home life is too messy to keep out of this workplace, perhaps Dr. Sherman needs to find a therapist who actually has some level of emotional control.”
The words were like darts through my chest. The mention of my messy life struck too close to the nightmare I was currently living with Benji. My vision suddenly blurred, and hot tears spilled over my eyelashes before I could stop them.
I gasped, utterly shocked by my own reaction. I wiped my face furiously with the back of my hand, silently berating myself for crying in front of these people. I was a professional, yet here I was, breaking down over a mean comment.
“I need a water break,” I choked out, not waiting for either of them to respond.
I turned on my heel and walked rapidly down the short hallway into the kitchen. My hands were shaking so badly that I could barely grip the handle of the refrigerator. Finally I pulled it open, leaning my head against the cool plastic shelving. I hated feeling like this.
I hated being weak. Everything I had ever wanted since leaving my hometown was to escape the shadow of the life I used to live with Benji. I wanted a clean slate and a normal existence. But it felt like the more I tried to break away from the dirt, the harder the universe pulled me right back in.
Through the quiet of the apartment, the muffled sound of Roman’s voice floated into the kitchen from the living room. He was speaking angrily to Sarah. He was chiding her for speaking to me like that, I was sure.
It wasn't a very pleasant realisation that Roman was actually defending me against his own nurse. It made my stomach twist with an entirely different kind of discomfort. I didn't want his protection, and I certainly didn't want his pity.
Taking a deep breath, I grabbed a cold bottle of water and closed the refrigerator door, and—
"HOLY SH—" I jumped, nearly dropping the bottle. Roman was standing right there, blocking the exit from the kitchen. He had his arms folded tightly over his muscular chest, as he looked down at me with genuine concern.
“Stop acting like a stalker,” I snapped.
But Roman didn't back down. He kept his eyes fixed on mine. “Is everything okay back at the clinic? Did something happen there?”
“Everything is completely fine,” I replied, trying to push past him, but he didn't budge from the doorway. “Why would it not be fine? I am just trying to do my job.”
“Because you are being significantly more of a know-it-all than your usual self today,” Roman pointed out. “And you don't cry over a comment from Sarah, unless something else is already eating at you. I don't think I've ever even seen you cry."
My anger was returning to mask my vulnerability now. “It's not your business. We need to get back to the living room right now, we have a session to finish.”
I used my shoulder to slide past him through the narrow gap in the doorway. He let me go this time, but I could feel his eyes tracking me all the way down the hall.
I marched back into the living room, determined to push through the remaining exercises and then leave. Sarah was standing near the window, looking incredibly stiff and uncomfortable after whatever lecture Roman had given her. I reached into my pocket to check the time, but my fingers met empty fabric.
My heart lurched into my mouth. My phone wasn't there!
It wasn't until I reached the center of the room that I realized I had left my phone on the kitchen counter when I first ran in there to cry.
I turned around quickly to go get it, but I stopped when Roman walked out of the kitchen himself. He was holding my phone in his right hand, his thumb resting against the side of the device. He was staring down at the screen, and when he looked up at me, his eyes held a completely different expression. It was an odd, dark stare that made the hairs on my arms stand up. The screen was lit up.
I stepped forward and snatched the phone out of his hand, my fingers brushing his cold skin. I immediately looked down at the notification bar. A fresh text message was right there on the lock screen, completely visible for anyone to read.
BENJI: I’m losing my patience, Harmony. Drop the $500 at the old warehouse on 4th Street by midnight tonight or I’m coming to your apartment to get it myself. Don't make me hunt you down.
My blood turned cold as I stared at the words. The threat was explicit, the address was clear. It was all spelled out on the screen in plain English.
I looked up slowly, my eyes meeting Roman's. He was still giving me that same odd look. He didn't say a word, but the intensity in his eyes told me everything I needed to know. He had read the text. He knew someone was threatening me for money, and he knew I was in deep trouble.
Shame and panic flared in my gut, but I forced my expression to go completely blank. I pressed the power button, turning the screen black, and set the phone face down on the nearby coffee table.
“Let's go back to the session,” I announced loudly as I stepped back onto the yoga mat.