Dorothy Ewels

Gabriel

The past two months had been pure hell.

Waking up in hospital to smells and sounds that brought nothing but the worst memories bubbling back to the surface had his skin crawling and his mind in turmoil. In those first moments of consciousness, he could swear he’d heard Mr Daniels calling him. But that couldn’t be. Jarrod’s father – the man who’d taken Gabriel into his home when he’d had nowhere else to go, no hesitation whatsoever – had passed away shortly before they’d gone on the road.

When he’d finally been awake enough, the doctor had explained that he’d been in an accident and listed his injuries. Most of them were fairly minor and would heal pretty quickly. It was the damage to his arm and shoulder that had him freaking out. If he lost the use of his arm or, God forbid, lost his arm completely, his career would be over.

His career was all he had. It was who he was. His identity, as he saw it, was completely wrapped up in it. It was all he’d ever wanted to be, and now that he’d made his dream a reality, there was a chance the dream would be taken away from him. Just like the other things that had meant so much to him.

Gabriel couldn’t help but wonder if he’d been cursed. Doomed to lose anything that mattered to him.

Now, here he was, doing his utmost to regain the use of his arm so he could get back to what he loved to do and praying it would be enough.

“Good morning, Mr Stone.” The sugar-sweet, cheerful tones of the physiotherapist so early in the morning was like fingernails down a blackboard.

For a split-second Gabriel felt bad about his uncharitable thoughts about the woman, but God help him, she worked on his every last nerve. There wasn’t anything specific he could put a finger on that set all the little hairs on his neck standing up other than the gleam she got in her eyes every time she looked at him. He’d come to dread this time of day, knowing she was there to help him, but wishing it were anyone else but her.

“Morning,” he mumbled in reply.

“Ready to get your workout in today?” she asked, resting a hand on his forearm.

“About as ready as I’m ever going to be, so let’s do this.”

She put her arm around his shoulders to help him out of the bed and over to a chair by the window. It wasn’t like he needed the help getting out of bed, and it irked him that she found any excuse to touch him. Although, if he were being honest with himself, everything pissed him off these days.

When the physio had done her first consultation, he’d seen how her eyes lit up when she’d recognised him. Gabriel had seen the same kind of reaction from groupies that followed them around on tour, and he hated it. But she was there to help him regain the use of his arm, and that’s all he cared about.

He went through the exercises, gritting his teeth and praying it would soon be over. The pain was excruciating, and he was frustrated with how slow his progress appeared to be. By the time they were done, Gabriel’s body was covered in sweat, and he couldn’t catch his breath. He was so ready to call it a day.

In fact, he was so ready to leave this place. All he wanted was to go home. The doctor had told him if he continued to improve, he could do so within a week, and he was holding onto that thought like a lifeline.

All he could think of was returning to Cape Town and seeing Sheridan again.