35 Your Trauma is Showing

Dane

One moment he was trying to impress on Delilah how valuable she was to him. The next the room behind him exploded.

Every molecule in his body lit up at the same moment.

Alarm. Fear. Rage.

He threw himself between Delilah and the attackers, crouching to cover her and be ready to flee or fight. It was reflex to pull his gun from the holster at his back with one hand, while holding Delilah with the other, scanning the room for the closest target as he forced her to stay back, even when she clawed as his arm.

But, gun trained there, then there, then there…he blinked. And blinked. And blinked again. It was so instinctive to identify threat, at first he couldn't understand the riot of color and noise in front of him. The smiling faces and bright shapes. His heart thumped so loudly in his ears, he knew Delilah was speaking, but he couldn't make out the words.

It took several seconds of staring, frozen, to understand that his staff were here. That the color was balloons and confetti. That the faces were people who worked for him. And the shapes were food and presents.

Presents.

His staff had brought him presents.

And he'd pulled a gun on them.

He could have killed someone.

Blowing out a breath through his teeth, then sucking it back in, he dropped the nose of the gun to the floor immediately, flipped the safety, and chambered the bullet.

There was a roaring in his ears, and he trembled, but he managed to get it back into the holster at his back. He wanted to yell at whoever was breathing so loud to stop, that he needed to concentrate…but then he realized it was him.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled as he turned back to the people huddled under the windows now, faces open with shock. "I'm sorry. I didn't…I'm sorry."

The receptionist was crying. He watched her cling to James, one of the security guards, who patted her back and reassured her, but glared at him.

What had he done.

"I'm sorry," he repeated dumbly.

"Oh, Dane, I'm so sorry."

Delilah was in front of him then, babbling, touching him, ushing him out of the room and down the hall to his office, talking the whole way. But he couldn't take it in. Every muscle in his body wanted to be rigid. Every sense heightened. He twitched like a hummingbird, head whipping to look anytime he heard the softest noise. His head screamed at him that danger was imminent. People were going to die.

The only thing that kept him grounded in the present was her hand on his arm, his shoulder, even his chest. She tugged him to the end of the hall, to his office and closed the door.

She kept talking the whole time, her face crumpled in grief and fear that he'd put there. He couldn't really take it in, but certain words got through the haze.

Birthday.

Party.

Celebrate.

Surprise.

Here for you, Dane. They were here for you. They wanted to celebrate.

At some point he ended up in his chair, facing the window where sunlight streamed through. She knelt at his side, her hand on his arm and said something serious. A question, and a reassurance. He wasn't sure of the details, but he nodded. She pressed a cup of hot lemon in his hand and made a gesture like he shouldn't move. He nodded again. And then she was gone.

He kept breathing for a moment, looking, scanning, shaking. The click of the door closing made him startle, and he had to start again.

But after a few minutes he was clear headed enough to turn and put the drink he didn't want or need on his desk, then drop his head into his hands and let go of a shuddering breath.

What the hell just happened.

What. The hell. Happened?

*****

Lila

An hour later she stood in the reception area with Tish and Tonya, who'd both been kind enough to stay back and help her clean up.

"Will you please let them know it wasn't their fault, it was mine?" Lila said, her voice shaking with the tears she'd been holding back desperately for the past hour. "I'll personally apologize to everyone tomorrow. And thank them. And please, make sure Mariah's okay. Give her the day off tomorrow. I'll clear it with Dane."

Tonya nodded. Tish clutched her hands together and was still wide-eyed. But she'd kept it together much better than Lila would have expected of her. She'd helped calm the others, and immediately started organizing cars to get everyone home. It was only now that she looked like she might break down.

"Is he going to be okay?" Tonya asked quietly. Tish stared at her desperately too.

"I'm certain he will be. He was just startled. I should have known. It's completely my fault," Lila gushed for the twentieth time in as many minutes. "I guess we can't spend all day every day planning for disaster and not expect him to react as if it's happening."

"Note to self," Tonya said dryly and Lila laughed far too loud.

Then they were gone and she couldn't avoid it any longer. She had to go face him. Apologize. It seemed like that was all she ever did with him.