by Fiona Lowe
At the footy, he’d kept turning to tell Lily something, only to find she wasn’t there, and later, at the Rooftop, his usual coterie of flirting nurses and interns had seemed bland and two-dimensional. For the first time since arriving in Melbourne six years ago, his shiny and beloved city had seemed dull and listless.
He blamed Lily. He didn’t belong in Turraburra but now Melbourne didn’t seem like home either.
In his more rational moments he could see that perhaps by telling her he loved her he’d caught her by surprise and rushed her. But it was her reaction to his declaration that hurt most. It was one thing not to love him. It was another to be aghast at the thought and look utterly shocked and horrified by it. She’d looked at him as if he was a monster instead of a deluded guy who’d stupidly fallen in love.
He glanced at the two tins on his desk filled with home-baked lamingtons and shortbreads and at a small cooler that contained a freshly caught salmon—all gifts from grateful patients. The irony was that Turraburra had embraced him. He had more fresh produce than he could eat, Chippy had taken to sleeping under his desk, and the biggest surprise of all was that Karen was throwing him a going-away party. Everyone loved him, except the one person he wanted and needed to have love him back.
He picked up the phone for the tenth time that day, determined to call Bruce and ask him about Lily’s marriage—to try and get the real story. He set the receiver back onto the cradle just like he had the nine other times. He didn’t have the right to stress an eighty-five-year-old man with a heart condition, and deep down he knew it wasn’t Bruce’s story to tell.
He thumped the table with his fist. Why wouldn’t Lily tell him?
Accept it, buddy. There is no story, she just doesn’t love you.
Not possible. But even his well-developed sense of self had started to doubt that shaky belief.
We’re too different. He shook his head against the thought as he’d done so often over the weekend. They shared so much in common—love of footy, medicine, sense of humour—the list went on. The only thing they really disagreed on was country versus city living and surely there was a way to negotiate on that? But if she didn’t love him there was nothing to negotiate.
The intercom buzzed, breaking into his circular thoughts. ‘Yes, Karen?’
‘Looks like you might get to do some stitching. Lachy Sullivan’s cut his hand climbing over a barbed-wire fence and it’s nasty. He’s waiting in the treatment room.’
‘On my way.’ He had ninety-eight hours to fill and with any luck this might just kill sixty minutes.
CHAPTER TEN
LILY’S HEAD ACHED. Her day had started at three-thirty a.m. with Sasha Ackers going into labour. Baby Benjamin, the third Ackers child, had arrived by breakfast, knowing exactly how to suck. From that high point the day had gone downhill fast.
On her postnatal rounds, she’d got a flat tyre in a mobile phone dead zone and, unable to call for assistance, she’d fallen in the mud, trying to use the wheel brace to loosen the wheel lugs. She’d been late back for clinic and had spent the afternoon trying to claw back time, but today every pregnant woman was teary and overwhelmed. She felt much the same way.
The only good thing about the day was the fact she hadn’t run into Noah. She wasn’t up to facing those brown, angst-ridden eyes that accused her of being a coward. At this point she was just counting down the days until Turraburra returned to being the safe refuge it had always been for her.
All she wanted to do was go home and fall into bed, and that was exactly what she was going to do now Sasha had insisted on an early discharge twelve hours after the birth. Sasha claimed her own bed was more comfortable than the birth centre’s and, with her mother minding the other children, home was more peaceful.
Karen had closed the clinic at seven and so all Lily had to do was set the security sensor. As she started entering the numbers a frantic banging made her jump. Someone was pounding on the external doors.
‘Hello?’ a female voice called out. ‘Please, help me.’
Lily rushed to the door, threw the lock and opened it. The woman fell into her arms and she staggered backwards into the waiting room and the light. ‘Kylie? Are you in labour?’
Kylie’s head was buried in her shoulder but Lily heard a muffled, ‘No.’
She automatically patted her back. ‘What’s wrong?’
The woman raised her head. Black bruising spread across her face like tar and congealed blood sat in lumps on her split bottom lip.
Oh, God. Panic swooped through her. She knew only too well what this meant—all her worst fears about Shane Ambrose had come true. Safety first. Lock the door. Now!
In her haste, she almost pushed Kylie into a chair. ‘Sorry, I just have to …’ Her hands trembled as she bolted the door and started pulling chairs across the doorway.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Keeping you safe.’ Keeping us safe. ‘From Shane.’
Kylie shook her head quickly. ‘No, you’ve got it all wrong, Lily. Shane wouldn’t hurt me on purpose. This.’ she gingerly touched her lip ‘.was a misunderstanding. He was tired and I shouldn’t have let the kids annoy him.’
You brought this on yourself, Lily. You only have yourself to blame.
The past thundered back in an instant, bringing fear and chaos. She wanted to put her hands over her head and hide, only she couldn’t. Kylie needed her. She needed to deal with this situation. She needed to make Kylie understand that the devil she knew was worse than the devil she didn’t.
She kneeled down so she was at eye level with the trembling woman. ‘Did he hit you?’
Kylie’s mouth stayed shut but her eyes filled with tears.
‘He has no right to do that, Kylie. Did he hit you anywhere else? In the stomach?’
‘He … he didn’t mean to hurt the baby.’
Nausea made her gag and she hauled in deep breaths against a closing throat. Hold it together. You can do this. Every part of her screamed to call the police but triage came first—check the baby, check Kylie, call the police. She extended her shaking hand. ‘Come with me.’
Like a compliant child, Kylie allowed herself to be led to the treatment room and she got up onto the emergency trolley. Lily handed her an ice-pack for her face then helped Kylie shuffle out of her yoga pants. Two bright red marks the size of a fist stained the skin of her pregnant belly.
Fury so strong blew through Lily taking the edge off her fear.
‘Is … is there any bleeding?’ Kylie asked, her voice so soft and quiet that Lily could barely hear her.
‘Your undies are clean.’ Only that didn’t mean there wasn’t any bleeding. Her hands carefully palpated Kylie’s abdomen and the woman flinched. The area was tight. ‘Does this hurt?’
‘A bit.’
Lily turned on the hand-held Doppler and the baby’s heartbeat thundered through the speakers. The heartbeat was way too fast.
‘Oh, thank God.’ Kylie immediately relaxed, falsely reassured by the sound.
‘Kylie, I’m going to put in an IV and call Dr Jackson.’
The woman’s face paled. ‘Why? What’s wrong?’
Lily opened her mouth to reply but the loud sound of fists banging on the door made her freeze.
‘Kylie! Are you in there?’ Shane’s voice sounded frantic and filled with concern.
Kylie struggled to sit up.
‘No.’ Lily shook her head as she gently pushed Kylie back against the pillows. Snapping a tourniquet around her arm, she said, ‘Stay there.’
‘Kylie, honey, I know you’re in there,’ Shane cajoled. ‘I’m worried about you.’
‘He’s not coming in here,’ Lily said, sounding a lot more certain than she felt. She forced her fingers not to tremble as she palpated Kylie’s arm for a vein.
‘But he’s my husband,’ Kylie whispered, fear filling her voice. ‘I made a commitment to him.’
Hearing the words she’d once spoken tore her heart. She understood the power of
strong memories—those of a loving, caring man duelling with the new version of the one who inflicted pain. All types of pain—emotional, financial, sexual and physical—that left a woman blaming herself and questioning everything she believed through a fog of devastated self-esteem. Pain that was always followed by recanting, declarations of love and the promises of never again.
‘Kylie, loving husbands don’t put your life and the life of your unborn baby in danger. I have a duty of care to protect you and your baby and that means that right now Shane’s not coming anywhere near you.’ The cannula slid straight into the vein and she connected up the saline drip.
Kylie slumped as tears poured down her face. ‘Th-thank you, Lily.’
‘Kylie.’ Shane’s charming and caring voice was fast developing an edge. ‘I just want to check that you’re okay. Come on, darl, let me in.’
‘I’m scared,’ Kylie whimpered, as her hand gripped Lily’s arm with bruising force. ‘Can you talk to him? Please?’
Don’t poke the dragon. ‘I’m not sure that’s—’
‘I know him, Lily,’ Kylie implored. ‘He won’t leave until he knows I’m okay.’
She felt herself caving. ‘Okay, but you stay here. Do not get off the trolley.’
Kylie released her hand, nodding her acquiescence.
Lily walked slowly back to the foyer, already regretting her offer. When she arrived at the front doors she didn’t open them. ‘Shane,’ she said, trying to sound calm and dispassionate as her heart thundered in her chest so hard it threatened to leap into her mouth. ‘Kylie needs medical attention. I will call you as soon as Dr Jackson’s seen her.’
‘I want to be with her.’
‘I know you do but … forgive me, Noah … Dr Jackson wants to see her on her own. As soon as he’s made his diagnosis, we’ll call. For now, it’s best if you go home and wait.’
‘You stuck-up bitch.’ Shane’s charm vanished as he continued to scream at her, calling her names no one should ever have to hear. His poisonous words slid through the cracks in the old building, sneaking under the window seals, their vitriol a living, thriving beast with intent to harm. ‘Open the goddamn door now, before I kick it in.’
Lily, you’re scum. Lily, you’re useless. You’re a worthless whore. You ruined my life.
The past bore down on her so hard she gasped for breath, trying to force air into rigid lungs. The edges of her mind started to fuzz.
‘Lily, I’m scared.’
Kylie’s voice penetrated her panic making her fight back against the impending darkness. I’m a good person. Kylie needs my help. I have to protect Kylie and the baby.
Somehow her trembling hands managed to press in Noah’s number on her phone.
As his rich, warm voice came down the line, the crack of a gun going off had her diving for safety. With her belly on the floor and adrenalin pouring through her, she commando-crawled for cover under the reception desk.
‘Lily?’ Noah’s voice was frantic. ‘What’s happening?’
The sound of crashing glass deafened her.
‘Get the police. Come to the clinic,’ she whispered, barely able to speak against the terror that was tightening her throat. ‘Kylie Ambrose is bleeding.’
She left the phone connected, hoping against hope that Noah would use the landline to call the police and keep his mobile connected to hers. That he’d stay on the line and be her lifeline.
He’s already your lifeline.
The thought pierced her with its clarity and she gasped. Over the past few weeks Noah, with his love and caring, had brought her back into the world. Noah, who argued with her but never punished her if she disagreed with him. Noah, who loved her but didn’t want to control her. Noah, who hadn’t run from the hard, hurtful facts that he had a communication problem or blamed her but had worked to change how he dealt with people. How many men would do that?
Some. Not that many. He was one of life’s good guys—truly special—and she’d tossed him aside, too scared to trust her future to him because of the fear scumbags like Trent and Shane Ambrose had instilled in her. And for what? A hysterical laugh threatened to burst out of her. She was back to hiding again.
I don’t love you, Noah. She shoved her fist in her mouth at the memory of what she’d said to him, biting down on her knuckles to stop herself from crying out in pain. Fear had driven those words from her mouth and she’d do anything to have the chance to take them back.
The crunch of glass under boots boomed in the silence—threatening, ominous and terrifying—taking her back to another dark night and shattered glass. You survived that and you’ll survive this. You have to live so you can save Kylie and tell Noah that you love him.
The footsteps got closer. Louder. A moment later Shane Ambrose was towering over her with a gun pointed straight at her. ‘Next time, bitch, open the bloody door.’
His arrival turned her panic to ice. Now she knew what she was dealing with. Trent had taught her the unpredictability of men and this whole event was all about power. She’d told Shane he couldn’t come inside the clinic so to show her he was the one in charge— the man in control— he’d broken in to teach her a lesson. If she wanted to get out of this situation in one piece, she had to do what she’d vowed she’d never do again.
She agreed. ‘Yes, Shane.’
He grunted. ‘That’s more like it. I’m taking Kylie home.’
She kept her gaze fixed on his hateful face and concentrated on keeping her voice toneless and even. ‘Kylie’s bleeding, Shane. If you take her home, she’ll die.’
The gun wavered. ‘Don’t bullshit me.’
She swallowed, praying that she could get through to him on some level. ‘You’re holding a gun at my head, Shane. You hold all the cards here, you have all the control. Why would I lie to you?’
‘Shane, it’s Ross Granger.’ The police sergeant’s voice, loud and distorted by a megaphone, carried into the clinic from outside. ‘I know you’re in there, mate, and you’ve got a gun. We got a call from the clinic saying Kylie and the baby need the doctor. He’s here but we need you to come to the door first and bring the gun.’
Shane’s cold eyes assessed her. ‘Take me to Kylie and don’t do anything stupid because I’m right behind you.’
Forcing her jelly legs to carry her, she walked straight to the treatment room. She’d expected the pregnant woman to be sitting up, quivering and terrified, but instead she was lying on her side. ‘Kylie?’
Her eyes fluttered open and her hands pressed her belly. ‘Hurts.’
Lily opened the IV full bore and checked her blood pressure. It was dangerously low. ‘She’s bleeding, Shane. She needs a Caesarean section or she and the baby will die.’
The bravado of the cowardly man faltered for a moment. ‘Get the doctor.’ The gun rose again. ‘No police.’
‘I have to get in there now, Sergeant.’ Noah paced up and down outside the clinic, frantic with worry. ‘Gunshots have been fired, there’s a pregnant woman who’s at risk of bleeding out, a baby who might die, and there’s Lily …’ His voice cracked on her name. Some crazy guy had his Lily bailed up with a gun.
‘Doctor, you can’t go in until Ambrose is disarmed. I can’t risk any more lives. I’ve got the medical evacuation helicopter and skilled police negotiators on the way.’
‘We don’t have time to waste—’
The clinic door opened and Lily stood in the doorway with Shane. He had one of his hands clamped on her arm and the other held the gun pointing at a pale and silent Lily.
‘Get the doctor,’ Shane yelled.
As if reading Noah’s mind, the sergeant said, ‘Noah, wait.’
But he wasn’t waiting any longer and he bounded forward. Better that he be inside with some control than outside with none. No way in hell was he leaving Lily alone with that bastard. As he approached, Shane stepped back to allow him to pass.
Noah made his second split-second decision for the day—he decided to just be the doctor and not me
ntion the gun. ‘Where’s Kylie?’
Shane waved the gun towards the treatment room. ‘You have to save her.’
Relatives often said that to him, only they weren’t usually holding a gun. ‘I’ll do my best but I might need more medical help.’
‘No one else is comin’ in here,’ Shane said with a menacing growl.
Noah strode directly to the treatment room. ‘Lily,’ he said firmly, hating how terrified she looked. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and keep her safe but gut instinct told him not to. Men like Shane Ambrose considered women inferior. Noah needed to keep the bastard on side. ‘What’s Kylie’s BP?’
‘Ninety on forty-five,’ she replied, her voice oddly emotionless. ‘She needs a Caesar but we can’t do it here.’
‘We don’t have a choice,’ he said grimly. ‘If I don’t operate, she dies. We may not have operating theatre conditions but at least we have antibiotics and plasma expander. What about surgical instruments?’
Her eyes widened in momentary surprise before filling with confirmation. ‘I can put together an emergency set from the clinic supplies and we have a cautery pen, but I’ve never given an anaesthetic before.’
‘I’ll talk you through it. We can do this.’ He sounded way more confident than he felt. What he was about to do was combat surgery, only he was a very long way from a war zone. He glanced at the gun. Maybe not.
Calling out instructions to Lily for the drugs he needed, he quickly intubated the barely conscious Kylie. As Lily took over the bagging, he administered the muscle relaxant and that’s when reality hit him. They were short one set of hands. He needed another nurse but he couldn’t ask anyone to step into this dangerous situation and even if he could, Shane wasn’t going to allow it.
He glanced at Shane and the gun. The fact the guy had insisted Noah save his wife made him hope he wanted her to live. ‘Shane, can I call you Shane?’
The man nodded. ‘Yeah.’
‘See how Lily is pressing that bag in and out, giving Kylie oxygen? Do you think you can do that?’
His eyes narrowed. ‘Why can’t the bitch do it?’
Every part of Noah wanted to dive at Ambrose’s throat but he needed the low-life’s help and right now saving Kylie came ahead of trying to disarm the creep. ‘There’s a big chance the baby is going to have trouble breathing when it’s born and Lily has the skills to care for it. I’m not asking you to put the gun down. You can bag her one-handed.’
