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Authors: Chris Taylor

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BOOK: The Shooting
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“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 would 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.

An IV cannula carried essential fluids through her veins and another tube protruded from under the sheets. Tom guessed it was some kind of drain. It was attached to a large glass bottle that stood on the floor beneath her bed. From the look of the dark colored liquid that emptied into it, the tube was draining blood. He shuddered and turned away.

It wasn’t like he’d never seen a person in trauma before. Christ, he’d lost count of the number of victims he’d dealt with over his years on the force, but it was different when it was Lily. She was his wife, the woman that he loved. She wasn’t some faceless stranger from whom he could remain detached.

The sight and sounds of so much medical equipment sent cold dread shivering through his veins. He hadn’t been inside an ICU since his father’s ruptured aneurysm the year before, but he hadn’t forgotten the rows of motionless patients, silent except for the sound of their breathing machines and the beeping of their monitors. Lily was now one of them.

Tom leaned over in his chair beside her bed and pressed a soft kiss against her hand. Despite the fact that it had been hours and hours since the shooting, tension still held him tightly in its grip. His phone vibrated against his hip and he pulled it off his belt clip and glanced at the screen. It was a text message from Brandon.

Alex has arrived with Cassie and Joe. They’re in the waiting room. The kids are asking to see their mom.

Tom bit his lip and scrunched his eyes tight and tried to find the courage to face his children. He didn’t know what they’d been told, but they weren’t stupid. No one was put in the ICU unless it was life threatening. He prayed he’d find the words to tell them what they needed to know without causing them unnecessary fear or alarm.

He made an impatient sound in the back of his throat.
Unnecessary fear or alarm?
Who the hell was he kidding? They’d be scared stiff and thinking the worst. He owed it to them to tell the truth.

Pushing back from the chair, he leaned over and kissed his wife on the cheek. Despite her pallor, she was warm to the touch and for that at least, he was grateful. She might look like death, but she
felt
very much alive. He had to keep clinging to that fact. Swallowing a sigh, he made his way out of the ICU and headed down toward the visitors’ waiting room.

A television murmured low sounds in the background, but nobody in the room appeared interested in what was on the screen. Tom caught sight of his daughter and son. Brandon and Alex were close by. With eyes downcast, they were all seated in the mismatch of chairs that filled the modest room. He cleared his throat.

“Hi, guys.”

Cassie twisted in her chair and jumped to her feet. A moment later, she launched herself at him. His arms came around her and held her close. “Cassie, how are you, honey?”

“How’s Mom?” she gasped, tears gathering in her eyes.

“She’s doing fine, sweetheart. The doctors operated on her earlier today and she’s holding her own.”

“What does that mean? Is she awake? Can I see her?” his daughter pleaded.

“Um…sure. But she’s still unconscious. I don’t want to frighten you. There’s a heap of equipment around her bed. It looks pretty scary. Are you sure you’re up to it?”

“Dad, I’m seventeen. I’m not a baby. I want to see her. I want to know she’s going to be okay.”

BOOK: The Shooting
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