The Sacrifice: Forbidden, Book 1

by Samantha Sommersby

  Laura started after the trolley. “Do me a favor. Go to A & E and get checked out, just to make sure?” she shouted back over her shoulder.

  I agreed.

  “Doctor?” The paramedic was standing just inside the entrance. He was holding Katherine’s purse and my coat. “The belongings?”

  “I’ll take them.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cigarettes. My hands were shaking, but I managed to get one out of the pack.

  “Need a light?” he asked as we stepped outside into the cool night air.

  “Thanks, I’ve got one.” I sat on a nearby bench and began to search though my jacket pockets. Then I remembered I no longer had my lighter. Mark had dropped it and I never picked it back up. I checked my watch. Had it really been just a few hours since I’d committed to abstain from the fags for the night?

  “You smoke?” Katherine asked, surprise evident in her voice.

  “Yeah.” I placed the cig between my lips and flipped open the cover of my lighter.

  “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that’s bad for you?”

  “A man needs some vices.” I shrugged.

  “How come I didn’t smell it on you earlier?”

  “I showered? Hell, I don’t know. Maybe you haven’t gotten close enough.” I stepped closer.

  “Whoa there, cowboy! I agreed to a perfectly platonic dinner. Just two people eating food and watching a play.” She pulled the cigarette out of my mouth and placed her hand on my chest.

  “Together, like a date.” Clearly I wasn’t going to have time for a smoke.

  “Date? This isn’t a date!”

  “It isn’t?”

  “No!”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes!” she said, getting increasingly flustered. “I told you, I’m engaged.”

  “I, for one, thought this was a date.” I couldn’t help but smile.

  She changed the subject. “Why don’t you quit smoking?”

  “I guess I just haven’t found the proper motivation. Tell you what, kiss me and I’ll abstain, from the fags that is, for the rest of the night.”

  “What about tomorrow, or the next day?”

  “That depends,” I told her as I leaned forward and lowered my lips to hers.

  “On what?”

  “On how well you kiss.”

  “What on earth are you doing here at this time of night? I thought you psychiatrists all kept normal business hours?”

  Pulled back to the present, I noticed one of the critical care nurses coming toward me from the parking lot.

  “Hey.” I tossed the pack of cigarettes into the dustbin beside the bench.

  “Jesus, what happened to you?”

  I glanced down at my shirt. It was spattered with blood. When I looked back up, the nurse was staring at Katherine’s bag. I’d almost forgotten it was there.

  I picked it up and started to search through the contents. There was a gold compact, a tube of lipstick, a wallet and a mobile phone. I pulled the phone from the bag, opened it up, glanced at the display, then snapped it closed.

  “Dr. Atherton?”

  “Hm?”

  She had taken a seat next to me, concern etched on her face. “What happened?”

  My eyes burned. My head was pounding. I didn’t know where to start.

  “There was an accident, in the Tube,” I finally managed to choke out. “My date, Katherine, she uh…she…”

  “She got hurt?”

  I nodded. “It looks like she has a subdural. She’s in CT now. I think Eric’s going to do a crainy. I’ve got to call her mum.”

  “Can I help?”

  “No. Thanks. I can handle it. I’ll see you up on the ward in a bit. Katherine will be coming your way, no doubt.”

  The nurse nodded. “She’s in good hands with Mr. Riley.”

  “I know. Go on. You’re going to be late for your shift.”

  “I’ll have a fresh pot of coffee waiting,” she promised before walking away.

  I took a deep, steadying breath, opened the mobile once again and started to scroll through the recently dialed numbers. George. Damien. Mom work. Home. I dialed home.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello, Mrs. Lawson? My name is Wesley Atherton. I’m calling from London. I’m a friend of Katherine’s—”

  “Has something happened to Kate?”

  I took a fortifying breath and then tried to calmly explain.

  “I was out with your daughter tonight. We had dinner and went to the theater. We took the Tube and on the way back… Well, there was an accident. The carriage we were in derailed. I’m afraid Katherine was injured.”

  “Can I talk to her?”

  “She’s being evaluated. They’re doing a CT now. She’s unconscious. She may need surgery.”

  “What kind of surgery?”

  “Neurosurgery.”

  “Dear God,” Katherine’s mother gasped.

  “We’ll know more shortly. I’ll call you back when there’s news. I’ll have her mobile if you want to reach me.”

  “Let me get a pen. What was your name again?”

  “Wesley Atherton. Dr. Wesley Atherton. She’s in good hands, I assure you.”

  “You’re a medical doctor?”

  “I’m a psychiatrist.”

  “Where is she? What hospital?”

  “We’re at Saint Catherine’s, in Camden Town.”

  I walked back into the hospital and headed for the radiology department.

  “Dr. Atherton?”

  “Wes,” I said. “Call me Wes. And you are?”

  “Julia. Don’t lie to me, Wes. It’s bad, isn’t it?”

  “It could be. The truth is, we don’t have enough information yet.”

  “I’ll be on the next flight. If Kate wakes up, tell her I’m on my way.”

  “Will do.”

  I pushed through the swinging double doors. The receptionist behind the counter pointed me to room three.

  “I’m counting on you to take care of her,” Julia said.

  “You have my word,” I assured her before ringing off. “What’s the verdict?” Eric and Laura were standing in front of a series of images.

  “See this?” Eric pointed to the film. “The hyperdense crescentic mass—”

  “Subdural hematoma?”

  “Exactly. I’ll make a couple burr holes, to relieve the pressure. I say we continue conservatively for now, a corticosteroid, to reduce the inflammation and swelling, and an anticonvulsant to control her seizures.”

  “She had a seizure?”

  “A mild one. It didn’t last long. Let’s scrub,” Eric said. “The sooner we get her in, the better.”

  “You haven’t had your shoulder looked at yet, have you?” Laura asked as she backed out the door.

  “I’m heading over to the A & E now. Anything happens…”

  “I’ll page you,” she assured me.

  “Jesus, Wes, I heard what happened. Sorry to keep you waiting. It’s been a crazy night,” said the resident.

  “No worries. I’ve already had the x-ray.”

  “I saw it. Did you really get some kid to pop your shoulder back in?”

  “Where did you hear that?”

  “The paramedics that brought you in. Is it true?”

  “Yeah. How’s the x-ray look?”

  “Kid did a great job. You’ll need to keep it immobilized for a week or so. You should see an orthopedist though.”

  He wrote out a prescription, then handed me the slip of paper. As soon as I read it, I tried to give it back.

  “I don’t need that. Just give me a couple ibuprofen.”

  “You say that now. Fill the prescription that way if you need it, you’ll have it.”

  As he left the examination room I heard him call out to one of the nurses. “Some ibuprofen and a sling for Dr. Atherton here. We need to immobilize his shoulder.”

  I leaned back against the wall. The evening had started off so well. I closed my eyes and a series of imag
es washed over me.

  The wind blowing Katherine’s hair in her face as we walked to the restaurant. The sideways glance she threw my direction during dinner when she thought I wasn’t looking. I lifted the collar of my shirt and inhaled. I could still smell traces of her on it, where she’d comfortably rested her head during much of the play.

  I remembered the way she’d laughed as we ran from the theater to a taxi in the pouring rain. How her breath hitched when I’d pulled her close in the back of the cab. How she’d gasped, opening her luscious mouth to invite me in when I crushed my lips to hers.

  Even now, I could almost feel the curve of her breast beneath my hand. The way her nipple had hardened through her bra and silk blouse when I’d brushed my thumb across it. The warmth of her breath. Those deliciously intoxicating panting sounds she’d made as I kissed down the long column of her neck and across her collarbone. Her lustful moan as I slipped my hand up her leg, under her skirt. And the exquisite realization that her legs were willingly parting for me, in encouragement, in need.

  “Wes,” she moaned. “Don’t. Stop.”

  “I won’t,” I assured her. “I’ll never stop.”

  “No. I mean, stop. He’s…he’s watching us,” Katherine whispered. “What am I doing? This isn’t me.” She was gasping for air, her chest rising and falling rapidly in the heat of passion.

  “Let him,” I growled, crushing my mouth to hers in another demanding kiss as my hand continued the forbidden journey under her skirt and up her leg.

  I was getting hard again, just from the mere thought of her.

  “So, do you need some help with that?”

  My eyes flew open. I hadn’t heard the nurse come in.

  “The ibuprofen.” She nodded toward the sealed packet and cup of water on the bedside table.

  “No, thanks. I’ve got it.” I picked the packet up with my good hand, tore it open with my teeth, and poured the two tabs out onto my waiting tongue. I dropped the empty packet back onto the tray, then washed the pills down with a swig of water.

  “Dr. Atherton to recovery. Wesley Atherton to recovery,” came the overhead page.

  “I’ve got to go.”

  “Let’s get this sling on first.”

  She worked quickly, then sent me on my way. The elevator took too long, so I opted for the stairs.

  Eric was waiting for me in the hallway outside of recovery to escort me to Katherine’s bedside.

  “She came through the surgery just fine,” he said as we walked. “Her vitals are stable. We’ll keep her here for a while longer, just to make sure, then she’ll go up to ICU.”

  “Okay.”

  The recovery room was cold. Katherine looked small and pale against the stark white sheets.

  “Sprain?” He nodded toward my sling.

  “Dislocated shoulder. I’ll be fine.”

  Eric looked like he had something to say. Normally he wasn’t one to hold back.

  “Out with it.”

  “Laura seems to think that the two of you are engaged.”

  I slid my free hand into the pocket of my trousers and fingered Katherine’s ring.

  “Well, she’s half right,” I admitted, remembering the moment we first met.

  “Here, take my seat.” I offered my seat to the elderly woman who’d boarded at Moorgate Station.

  “That was nice of you.”

  I shrugged off the compliment. “Yeah? Well, don’t tell anyone. I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

  I turned around and looked into the most beautiful pair of green eyes I’d ever seen.

  “What? I have spinach in my teeth, don’t I? I knew I should have chosen the pasta salad for lunch.”

  I grabbed hold of the bar she’d been holding on to so that my hand was positioned adjacent to hers. “No. It’s your eyes. They’re stunning.”

  “Are you sure there’s no spinach?” she asked, grinning widely, showing me her teeth.

  “No spinach,” I confirmed. “You’re American?”

  “Yup! Guilty as charged.”

  “Visiting?”

  “Here for a few months, finishing my masters.”

  As we pulled into the next stop I glanced down and noticed the ring. The car lurched, throwing the American off balance and she bumped into me. Without thought I reached out and wrapped my arm around her waist. As soon as I was able to steady myself I apologized and let go.

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” She looked away shyly.

  “Really?” I slipped my arm back around her waist. “Have dinner with me.”

  “What? No! What are you doing?” She pushed my arm away.

  “You said it was okay.”

  “Because it was an accident. I’m engaged.” She held up her hand and wiggled the finger that held her engagement ring.

  “That is not an engagement ring.”

  “What do you mean?” She pulled her hand back and looked at the classically simple solitaire. “Of course it’s an engagement ring.”

  “You’re not going to marry him. He’s all wrong for you.”

  “You don’t even know him. You don’t even know me. I take it back. You’re not nice after all.” She turned around.

  I leaned down and whispered in her ear, “So have dinner with me. Convince me that the two of you are perfect for one another and I’ll apologize.”

  She turned her head slightly. “No.”

  “Please? Look, I’d rather not beg, but I’m not above it. Agree or I’m going to have to fall onto my knees in supplication. It’s likely to be embarrassing for you and a bit humiliating for me but what the hell? You’re worth it.” I hitched up one leg of my trousers, preparing to kneel down.

  “You don’t have to do that.” She reached for my elbow, preventing me from fully kneeling in front of her.

  “Fantastic! So, how does Italian sound?”

  “I’m not having dinner with you.”

  “You agreed,” I pointed out. Looking around, I asked our fellow passengers, “Didn’t she consent?”

  Four or five of them nodded.

  “See?”

  “Do you always get your way?”

  I shrugged. “Pretty much.”

  “Well, not tonight,” she declared as we pulled into her stop. “Mr.—”

  “The name’s Wes.”

  She moved to walk away. I reached out, just barely grazing the back of her hand with my fingertips. “And you are?”

  “Katherine.” She turned to go, not looking back. Not until she got off, that is. Just as we pulled out she spun around. For the briefest of moments our eyes locked, then she was gone.

  “Christ, you know how to pick them,” Eric said. “First Reese, now you’re dating a woman that’s engaged to someone else?”

  “Katherine wouldn’t say we’re dating.”

  “You were out together.”

  “We had dinner and went to the theater.”

  “And you were heading back to your place?”

  “You make it sound sordid. It wasn’t like that. It isn’t like that. It’s complicated.”

  “I can imagine having a girlfriend with a fiancé can get pretty complicated.”

  I ignored his jibe and pressed on. “After that first day we kept bumping into one another on the Tube. She’d board at the same stop, like clockwork. We’d chitchat, that’s all.”

  “Until?”

  “The fourth day. It was raining outside and Katherine had forgotten her umbrella. She was drenched when she boarded. I tried to get her to take my mine so she wouldn’t catch her death, but the silly bint wouldn’t listen. I almost let her get away with it too. But just before the door closed, I ran out.”

  “You walked her home.”

  “We stopped for a cuppa just down the street from the flat where she’s staying. We were in the café for hours. Just as we were about leave, I got an emergency call, an admission. I left her with my brolly.”

  “In exchange for her number?”

  I shook
my head. “No. Didn’t even ask as a matter of fact.”

  “Wesley, wait!”

  It was pouring rain. I’d walked only a few meters and already I was soaked. I turned back. Katherine was standing under the awning of the shop, umbrella open. She was holding it out to me.

  “You forgot your umbrella!”

  “You can give it back to me tomorrow.”

  “What if I don’t see you tomorrow?”

  The thought hadn’t occurred to me. I returned to the shelter of the awning, pulled out a business card and handed it to her.

  “Call me,” I said, then I dashed off.

  “And she called you?” asked Eric.

  “Later that night, to thank me. Seemed like we talked forever, about everything and nothing. We really connected. You know?”

  “Wes, you’re a shrink. You’re a professional listener. You connect with everyone.”

  “Not like this. As we were about to hang up I noticed a pair of theater tickets sitting on my desk. I’ve yet to cancel my father’s box. I keep meaning to, just haven’t gotten ’round to it.”

  “So you asked and she accepted.”

  “Yeah. I’m telling you, Eric, the second I laid eyes on her I—”

  “Does he know?”

  “Does who know what?”

  “Her fiancé. Has anyone called him about the accident?”

  “Bollocks!”

  “I take that as a no?”

  “I called her mum. Maybe she called Damien?”

  “That’s the fiancé?”

  “Yeah.” I checked my watch. “It’s been a while since we spoke. Surely she’s called him by now.”

  “One way to find out,” Eric replied. “Can I get you anything? I’m going to grab some coffee.”

  “No thanks.” I pulled out Katherine’s mobile and rang Julia. There was no answer. Not at home and not on her mobile. So, I tried Damien.

  He picked up on the third ring. “Hello?”

  “Hello, is this Damien?”

  “Who’s calling?”

  “This is Dr. Wesley Atherton. I’m calling from Saint Catherine’s Hospital, in London. I need to speak with Damien, it’s about his fiancée.”

  “This is Damien. What’s wrong with Katherine? Is she sick?” He sounded appropriately concerned. He was probably a nice guy. I didn’t want him to be a nice guy.