by Chris Taylor
He wanted to be sharp and witty and clever for this vision in front of him who still couldn’t help but grin. He opened his mouth and waited for some brilliant repartee to come pouring forth.
“I don’t snore.”
He clamped his mouth shut in horror, unable to believe he’d come out with such a lame line. Here was the chance of a lifetime and all he could do was dispute her powers of observation. She’d more than likely turn away and never speak to him again.
He almost didn’t dare to look up again, lest she’d done exactly that, but to his relief, she laughed again—that beautiful, full-throated sound.
“Oh, yes you do and I have a number of witnesses to prove it. What’s more, given that you were asleep while it was happening, the odds aren’t great that you’ll disprove it!”
Charlie watched the exchange in amusement. “She’s got you there, Tom.”
Tom grimaced, but tempered it with a rueful grin. “Thanks for your support, mate.”
“Anytime.” He held his arms out wide. “What are friends for?”
Tom chuckled and then wished he hadn’t. Already the effects of his overindulgence were making themselves felt in his belly and in his head. As much as he now wanted to stay, if he wanted to leave the angel with even a modicum of a good impression, he best make his departure now. It was only going to get ugly from this point on.
He turned back to her and did his best to keep her in focus. “Lily, it was lovely to meet you.”
She smiled. “You already told me that.”
“And I’m telling you again. Surely, there’s no harm in that?”
“You’re right. There’s no harm in it at all. It was lovely to meet you, too, Tom Munro.”
“Christ, you’re beautiful. Will you give me your number?” he blurted out and then groaned inwardly at his lack of finesse.
“I don’t think so, Tom, but it was nice of you to ask.”
Tom stared beseechingly at her for a moment longer and then sighed. “You’re right. It was nice. I guess I’d better get going. All of a sudden, I don’t feel so well. In fact, I think I’m going to—” He bolted in the direction of Charlie’s bathroom and only just made it there in time.
CHAPTER FOUR
Roseville, Sydney—present day
Brady Sutton flipped over onto his side for the hundredth time and tried to get comfortable on his bed. He’d been interviewed by the police in the presence of his mom and the lawyer she’d arranged and after several hours had been charged with attempted murder. He’d been fingerprinted, photographed and taken before the judge where he’d been granted conditional bail. He’d then been allowed to return home with his mom until the next court appearance.
Lawyer; charges; judge; bail. The unfamiliar words crashed around inside his brain and he shook his head at the enormity of what had happened. It was never that way when he went hunting on GTA V.
He thought of Mrs Munro and bit down hard on a cry of pain. How had it gone so wrong? She’d wrestled with the gun right at the moment he’d pulled the trigger. It wasn’t supposed to happen that way. It was Ian Little who should be dead, not Mrs Munro.
Not that she was dead—yet. The police were quick to inform him with their hard, narrow-eyed stares that if her condition deteriorated and she died, his charges would be upgraded to murder.
Murder. The very word was incomprehensible. He wasn’t a murderer. All he’d wanted to do was to even the playing field; set the record straight; stand up for himself, like his mom was always encouraging him to do; rid himself once and for all of the agony and torture at the hands of the school yard bullies.
But it hadn’t turned out that way and now his life was over. Ian and his buddies would go on their merry way, teasing and tormenting. His mom looked like she’d aged a decade. She could barely bring herself to look at him. She kept blaming his father over and over again. Brady couldn’t bear the thought of what she’d say to his dad.
It wasn’t his father’s fault. Okay, he’d given Brady the gun to look after, but he’d never encouraged him to use it. He’d never even shown him how to load it. He’d given him GTA V, but the game hadn’t caused Brady any grief. It was Ian who shouldered the responsibility for working him up to such an extent that fatal violence seemed to be the only solution.
But it was Brady, not Ian, who was now in big trouble. Until today, he’d never been inside the belly of a police station. Even when his mom had woken him in the middle of the night to file a police report against his father, he’d been left in the care of another officer out in the reception area.
The interview rooms were located way in the back, not far from the steel barred cells. Brady had been marched right past them when they’d entered the station from the rear through an access not open to the public. It was probably built that way on purpose, to put fear into the baddies. It had certainly worked on him.
After being handcuffed and dragged out of the school grounds, he’d been tossed into the back of a police wagon. His mother had protested on a loud cry, but the officers had paid her little heed. He’d been taken to the station by the same two officers who had arrested him. They hadn’t seemed to mind that he was thrown from side to side when they took the corners too fast.
His mom had been forced to wait out front until they went and got her. Brady had been given plenty of time to contemplate the state of his life. He’d barely been able to hold back the tears when his mom had finally been allowed to join him.
After one of the arresting officers had explained what was going to happen, his mom had been given a chance to call a lawyer. Brady didn’t even know she knew a lawyer, but nearly an hour later, a man a little older than his father, wearing a dark pinstripe suit turned up at the station and introduced himself.
The rest of the interview had passed in a blur. He could remember his lawyer cautioning him against answering many of their questions, but Brady had nothing to hide. He’d gone to school with the intention of eradicating a vermin from society, or at least a vermin from the school yard. Assholes like Ian Little had no place in this world, no right to be a part of it.
The fact that Mrs Munro had gotten injured was nothing more than an accident. Surely, they would see that? But despite his pleas that he hadn’t meant to hurt her, the police went ahead and charged him.
His mother had burst into tears.
* * *
A doctor appeared in the corridor that led to the operating theaters and headed toward the group of people gathered in the waiting room. Tom was the first to spot him and leaped to his feet, his heart taking off at a gallop. He prayed the news was good.
The fatigue etched into the doctor’s face spoke volumes. Night had fallen. He’d been in the theater all day.
“I’m looking for the family of Lily Munro. Are you her relatives?” the doctor asked in a weary voice.
Tom stepped forward and wiped his palms on his police overalls. “I’m Tom Munro, Lily’s husband,” he said and offered the doctor his hand.
“Tom, I’m Matthew Reeves, one of the surgeons here. My team and I operated on your wife.”
Tom could barely breathe past the lump that had lodged itself in his throat, but he forced himself to voice the question.
“H-how is she?” The doctor sighed and Tom’s pulse leaped into a higher gear.
“Please, doctor, tell me. Is she…is she alive?”
The doctor nodded and Tom breathed out on a heavy sigh of relief. It was short lived. A moment later, Doctor Reeves spoke again.
“Yes, she’s still alive, but I’m afraid she’s in bad shape. The bullet passed through her abdomen and exited out through her lower back. While it missed all of the major arteries, it caused a lot of internal damage. We’ve repaired a tear in her spleen and two in her liver. The lining of her stomach was also torn. Part of her large intestine was damaged beyond repair. Three ribs were also fractured, but that’s the least of our concerns.” He paused and then continued.
“I need to warn you that not many
people take a bullet through the stomach and live to tell the tale—and if they do survive, it’s usually with lifelong afflictions. We removed part of her large intestine and we’ve managed to repair the rest of the damage. The bleeding’s stopped, but she’s lost a lot of blood. We gave her a blood transfusion and for now we just have to wait and see.”
Tom struggled to take it all in. He stumbled and leaned on Brandon for support. “So, what are you saying? That there’s still a possibility she’ll die?”
“The next twenty-four to forty-eight hours will be crucial,” the doctor replied. “We’ll keep a close eye on her in the ICU. I’m sorry, I wish I could give you more hope.”
This time, Tom’s legs buckled and he would have gone down if not for the strength and support of Brandon’s arm. Clayton and Ellie moved closer, shock and concern shadowing their eyes.
“She’s going to be okay, mate. You’ll see,” Brandon muttered.
Tom wanted to shake his head in denial, but even that simple action was beyond him. Brandon couldn’t give him reassurances like that. Not even the doctor offered that much hope. Feeling suddenly detached and far removed from the reality of the situation, Tom saw Brandon reach for the doctor’s hand and give it a firm shake. It all seemed to play out in slow motion.
“Thank you, doctor. Please keep us informed. We’ll be here, waiting.”
The doctor nodded somberly and then quirked an eyebrow. “You look a little familiar. I seem to remember operating on your wife a few years back. If I recall, she was also the victim of a gunshot wound.”
Brandon slowly nodded. “You’re right. Doctor Reeves. Now I remember. It was four years ago. Alex is her name. You saved her life.”
The doctor’s lips compressed, but his eyes reflected his silent acceptance of Brandon’s praise and gratitude. “I hope she’s doing well.”
“More than well,” Brandon assured him. “We owe it all to you.”
“Thank you, but I was merely doing my job.”
“Well, we appreciate your efforts all the same,” Brandon murmured.
The doctor nodded. “I just hope we have as good an outcome with Lily. Her injuries are so much more severe… It’s hard to tell.”
“When can I see her?” Tom asked, needing desperately to be close to the woman he loved more than life itself. His heart was silently shattering and it was tearing him apart.
“She’s not long left the operating theater. She’ll be in recovery for a little while longer, but the nurse will give you a call when they have her settled. They’ll take her up to the ICU. You’ll be allowed to see her there, but please keep in mind she’s gravely ill. We ask that you restrict your visits to one family member at a time and keep your visits brief. Ten minutes or so at the most.”
“Is she conscious?” Brandon asked quietly.
Doctor Reeves shook his head. “Not yet. At this stage, it’s hard to tell how long she might remain that way. I promise I’ll keep you regularly informed of her progress.”
The black hole of despair and disbelief sucked Tom in deeper. His jaw ached with the effort it took to refrain from voicing his pain. It wasn’t fair. Not his Lily. He couldn’t bear the thought of how he might be forced to go on without her.
* * *
Lily fought against the thick, dark current that held her down, preventing her from opening her eyes. She couldn’t ever remember being in so much pain. Everything hurt. Her chest, her side, her back, her belly… It even hurt to breathe. The memory of what had happened came back to her in a rush and she was filled with despair and disbelief.
Tom. She needed to see him. She didn’t know if he’d been at the school, but she was sure he was at the hospital. Being a police officer stationed near the crime scene, he would have been one of the first people to find out that she was involved and he would have made certain he was by her side. He was probably pacing the corridor right now, waiting impatiently to be allowed in to see her.
She still couldn’t believe Brady had shot her, albeit by accident. If she hadn’t thrown herself in the path of the bullet, Ian would have been hit and the outcome might have been fatal. Or perhaps it had been fatal? Perhaps she was already dead? No, she wasn’t dead. She hurt far too much to be dead.
Her thoughts switched to Hannah and she bit her lip against another surge of despair. She couldn’t imagine what her friend was thinking. She’d be blaming herself, questioning everything, wondering how the hell it had happened. Her son…
Hannah had been doing it tough ever since the breakdown of her marriage and lately, perhaps she hadn’t been quite as attentive to Brady’s needs as she normally was. She’d been dealing with a lot with Colin and the stress of a new school term beginning and everything else she juggled in her daily life. Lily knew firsthand how overwhelmed Hannah had begun to feel and now she couldn’t help but sympathize with the agony her friend must be enduring over her son.
All of a sudden, the weight of her thoughts and the heaviness deep in her heart was too much to bear. The smooth, cool darkness beckoned to her, promising relief from the tragic reality that faced her. On a soft sigh, she succumbed once again to the deep…
CHAPTER FIVE
Seventeen years earlier
More than a week had passed since the party at Charlie Allen’s apartment, but Lily could remember it like it happened yesterday, or more particularly, she could remember every second in time she’d spent with the man who had haunted her thoughts ever since. She’d been invited to attend the party with her roommate and although she’d been reluctant at first, David had finally convinced her to go.
“Come on, it will be fun. The host is a cop friend of mine. There will be plenty of hot single guys in uniform to choose from.” He’d wiggled his brows suggestively and she’d burst out laughing.
“I thought you said it was a party? I’m pretty sure they’re not going to turn up in uniform,” she giggled.
David grinned, unabashed. “Okay, so maybe they won’t be in uniform, but have you ever seen an ugly cop? Those broad shoulders, those tight buns. It’s from all that running after criminals that keeps them in such good shape.”
Lily rolled her eyes and shook her head, but had eventually agreed to accompany him. She’d been bogged down in study for her end-of-year exams and could do with a break.
She and David had been sharing an apartment since their second semester at college. Like her, he was in his first year and also studying to be a teacher. They’d met on campus and discovered they shared many of the same classes. Pretty soon were comparing notes about their professor. David’s outrageous sense of humor and flamboyant ways had drawn her and they’d quickly become friends.
She’d suspected right from the beginning that he was gay and wasn’t at all surprised when he came out to her the first month after they’d arrived at college. Blinking back tears, he confessed quietly that she was the only person who knew. It was almost as if the freedom and anonymity that came from living in a big city had given him the courage to finally stop pretending.
Glancing at the clock on the kitchen wall, she grimaced, remembering her mother and stepfather were expected to visit later that day. There were dirty dishes in the sink from breakfast and the carpet hadn’t been hoovered for a week. The stereotype that all gay men were clean and tidy was simply not true. At least, not the gay man she shared an apartment with. David might have been fastidious about his appearance, but the state of his home was entirely another matter.
With a sigh of resignation, she began collecting old newspapers and junk mail off the coffee table and dropped them into the trash. Next, she grabbed a cleaning cloth and disinfectant and headed into the bathroom. Her mother and Tony weren’t staying the night, but the chances that at least one of them would use the bathroom were high. It wouldn’t do for her mother to find it less than sanitary and by that, Fiona Gibbons meant sparkling.
Lily shook her head and her lips tugged upwards in a rueful smile. She shouldn’t be too harsh on her mother. Lily’s life woul
d have been a whole lot different if her mother hadn’t loved her enough to find the courage to walk out on Lily’s abusive father.
Before the depressing memories of her childhood took hold, Lily dampened the cloth in the bathroom sink and sprayed disinfectant around the toilet. She thought again of the hot police officer from the party and smiled. She wouldn’t have wanted to wake up with the headache she was sure had greeted him the next morning, nor the mess that had no doubt been splattered all over the toilet.
Her smile slowly faded. It was obvious the guy had been drunk. More than drunk. Plastered, was probably a better word. He’d fallen asleep standing up. That told her more than enough.
She shook her head, her heart slowly filling with regret. It was a shame. He was cute enough to send her heart fluttering like a brightly colored banner in the wind. It was a pity he was a drinker. She didn’t do drunks. Period.
CHAPTER SIX
Royal North Shore Hospital—present day
Tom stared down at his wife’s pale form where she lay against the pristine white sheets that covered the steel hospital bed and tightened his grip on her hand. The nurse had reassured him Lily’s vital signs were good and she was resting comfortably, even though she had yet to regain consciousness.
“She’ll wake up when she’s ready,” the kindly woman with the gray hair and tired eyes added and then patted him lightly on the arm before moving away to attend to another patient.
Tom tried hard to believe her, to force some of her optimism deep into his heart, but his body resisted his efforts and the blackness continued to weigh him down. His wife looked so small and defenseless amongst the tubes and monitors in and around her bed. He silently cursed the boy whose stupidity had reduced her to this state of fragility, her life held in the balance. Lily didn’t deserve this pain. She’d always been so committed to her students. He couldn’t fathom why someone would want to hurt her in this way.
