The Shooting

by Chris Taylor

  Cassie blew her breath out on a heavy sigh. She hated to deceive him, to pretend there was nothing wrong. He thought her reluctance to face the day had everything to do with the fact her mom was in the hospital. He had no idea her anguish and distress were rooted in that fateful afternoon on the netball ovals when her life had come crashing down.

  Everyone talked about how lucky she was to have escaped without being sexually assaulted, and she was thankful to have been spared that pain, but most days she didn’t feel lucky. The fact that James Gibbons hadn’t entered her body was a blessing, but in fact, he’d done far worse by entering her mind. More often than she could count, she had nightmares of being teased and taunted by her mother’s stepbrother and still all these years later, she broke out in a cold sweat every time she thought about him and what had happened.

  Oh, but she was lucky, remember?

  * * *

  Tom made his way back down the stairs, his thoughts troubled. Even before Lily was shot, he’d been growing increasingly concerned about their daughter. He didn’t expect her to be the Cassie she was before the attack, but it was more than four years and countless hours of therapy later. He expected her to be on a gradual incline of improvement.

  Instead, it seemed like she’d made a little improvement in the short term, but now had slumped back into depression. She used to be a bright, little ray of sunshine—the happiest, cheeriest kid he knew. It was useless wishing for the happy-go-lucky child she used to be, but he’d give anything to have her back—even a part of the old Cassie.

  When he’d leaned in to give her a kiss, he could have sworn he’d smelled alcohol. The very idea was ludicrous. Lily wasn’t a drinker and Tom rarely had more than a couple of beers. It was only if they were having people over that they ever stocked the bar fridge. He must have imagined the smell of it. There wasn’t any other explanation.

  With a sigh, he headed back into the kitchen and made his farewells to his parents. Joe was seated at the breakfast table, half-heartedly spooning cereal into his mouth. Tom crouched down beside him.

  “Hey, buddy. How’re you doing?” Joe shrugged and continued eating.

  “I spoke to Uncle Brandon a short time ago. He said Mom had a good night. I’m on my way over there to see her now.”

  “Yeah, Grandma told me.”

  Tom looked across at his son’s stoic face and bit his lip. The trauma with Lily was tough on him, let alone a fourteen-year-old.

  “Would you like to come back to the hospital and see her again? I told Cassie it’s okay if you want to take the day off school.”

  Another shrug and then Joe’s gaze slid to his. “Is she awake, yet? I don’t want to go back and see her asleep like that with all those tubes hanging out of her.”

  Tom drew in a deep breath and eased it out. “Uncle Brandon said she’s still sleeping, but she’s doing okay. I understand if you don’t want to see her in the ICU. It’s a scary place, all right. How about I call you after I’ve been in to see her and let you know how she is? I’m sure they’ll move her to another ward as soon as the danger’s passed.”

  Joe looked immediately alarmed. “Danger? What—like you think she might still die? I thought you said she was doing okay?”

  “I did and she is, but the bullet did some damage to her insides. They worked hard at repairing it, but I guess there’s always a slight risk something might go wrong.”

  Joe closed his eyes and shook his head back and forth with increasing vehemence. When he opened them again, he stared at Tom with anger and defiance.

  “She’s going to be fine, Dad. She’s going to be fine. Just you wait and see.”

  Tom stood and pulled Joe hard against him, the action made awkward by Joe’s seated position.

  “You’re right, Joe. She is going to be fine. I love you, son.” He pressed a kiss against the softness of Joe’s short hair and then released him.

  Tom looked across at his parents who sat on the opposite side of the table. His mom averted her gaze and swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. Tom caught his father’s gaze and held it.

  “She’s going to be fine, isn’t she?” he said, his voice strong and sure.

  “Of course she is,” Duncan Munro replied.

  His mother’s response was slower in coming, but her voice was just as confident. “She’ll be back home laughing and joking before you know it.”

  A lump of emotion clogged up the back of Tom’s throat. It was all he could do to nod in agreement. He turned and collected his wallet and car keys and headed for the door.

  * * *

  Cassie heard the front door open and close and breathed a sigh of relief. Her dad had left. At least now she could get back to what she’d been doing before he’d stopped in to check on her. Reaching under the bed, she once again dragged out the bottle of rum. It was already a quarter down. Funny, she didn’t remember drinking that much.

  Now that she didn’t have to go to school, she was free to overindulge. Her grandparents would leave her alone. They assumed she was in her room resting and coming to terms with the shooting.

  Her mother had been shot! What kind of family were they? First Cassie, and now her mom! Most kids she knew had never been touched by crime. Why her family? It wasn’t fair!

  Okay, Rodney Ling’s home had been broken into six months ago, but they weren’t even home when it happened. A break and enter didn’t compare to what her family had endured. Why? Why did it keep happening? What was wrong with this world? Why did bad things keep happening to good people—and to them, most of all?

  She struggled to sit up and then unscrewed the lid of the bottle she held in her hand. Bringing it up to her mouth, she gulped down as much as she could bear. It tasted revolting, but it did the trick. Stowing it back under her bed, she slid down under the covers and closed her eyes. Slowly, the alcohol worked its magic and she relaxed and floated away.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Seventeen years earlier

  Tom glanced up at the clock on the wall and his heart skipped a beat. There was less than half an hour before his shift ended and he could rush home and get ready for his date with Lily.

  Lily. Her name rolled off his tongue in a lilt so lovely it almost brought tears to his eyes. He couldn’t believe his luck when she agreed to see him again. He was sure he’d blown it by admitting he didn’t mind a drink or two with his friends. When she told him the story behind her fear of men who drank alcohol, he not only understood, but he vowed never to give her any cause for concern. In fact, he’d gladly give up the drink altogether if it meant he could have her.

  They’d been out three times in the week since their date at Watsons by the Sea and each time, he’d been determined to steer clear of anything other than soda. While he missed the taste of an ice cold beer, he found he didn’t have to drink alcohol in order to have a good time, especially not when he was with Lily.

  She was all he’d ever dreamed of in a woman: beautiful, intelligent, compassionate and thoughtful. She loved school and was doing well. In between classes, she volunteered at a women’s shelter. She also squeezed in story time once a week for the kids at her local library. She was perfect and Tom had fallen head over heels in love with her.

  His mates would have roared with laughter if he’d shared his inner thoughts. He’d met the woman less than a month earlier and already he knew he wanted her for his wife. If he hadn’t experienced a stable and loving upbringing where, even after more than twenty years of marriage, his parents still loved and adored each other, he might have been just as cynical as his friends were about his devotion to a girl he barely knew.

  His parents were his yardstick. They’d taught him through their words and their deeds that true love was more than a figment of some romance novelist’s vivid imagination. Love that would stand the test of time existed, was possible…if you found the right person.

  He could still recall his dad telling him a few years ago how he’d known the instant he set eyes on Tom’s mom that she
was the woman he was going to marry. At the time, his dad urged caution in matters of the heart. Tom was eighteen and had just finished high school and was eager and ready to take on life and all the possibilities that it offered him. While he’d mucked around a little with girls in his senior years and had lost his virginity the night of his seventeenth birthday to Marcia Adams in the backseat of his dad’s VS Holden Statesman, there had never been anyone really special.

  Now that he’d met Lily, his dad’s words came back to him and he understood exactly what his dad had meant. She filled him with so much yearning, it nearly took his breath away. It was more than just a desire to hold her in his arms and keep her close, but a deep-seated need to call her his.

  She was young—they both were—but it didn’t seem to matter. At least, not to him. He wasn’t sure how Lily felt. Each time they’d gone out, she’d been eager to spend time with him and share with him things from her present and her past. She hadn’t had the secure childhood he had, but she wasn’t closed to love. Tom was sure he had her stepfather to thank for that and he looked forward to the day when he could meet Tony Gibbons and voice his sincere gratitude.

  Tom’s thoughts turned to the last time he and Lily were together and his body tightened at the memory. Though it had only been two days, he missed her every moment they were apart. They’d gone down to the beach at Bondi and had splashed in the water and played on the sand. Lily had asked him to rub sunscreen into her back and had then returned the favor.

  The feel of her long, slim fingers against his skin had been torture and he’d been relieved he was wearing boardshorts. Knowing his erection wasn’t going to subside on its own, he’d forced himself back into the water. The cold surf had worked to assuage the pressure in his cock, but it did nothing to cool the heat in his veins or the need deep in his heart.

  Later, they’d walked hand in hand along the promenade, licking ice creams and enjoying their time together. Their silence was companionable; it felt like he’d known her forever.

  When he dropped her off at her apartment, the sun had been low in the sky. He’d leaned across the seat of his Ford pickup truck and kissed her, no longer able to resist. After a moment’s hesitation, she’d returned his kiss with a wave of sweetness and heat. It had been all Tom could do not to drag her into his arms and make her his.

  His hand had stolen down and cupped the softness of her breast. Her nipple had pebbled beneath his fingers. They’d both been breathless when he finally pulled away. His heart had pounded so hard, he was sure she could hear it, but she’d done nothing but offer him a smile that was so soft and beautiful, it had stolen away what little breath remained.

  That had been two nights ago. His mouth went dry at the possibility of what a night out at the ice skating rink might bring. He’d asked her earlier if she could skate and she’d laughed.

  “Of course! Doesn’t everyone know how to skate?”

  Now, he hoped she needed a little coaching. He’d enjoy the chance to guide her with his hands.

  The phone at his elbow rang and he swallowed a sigh. He had ten minutes before his shift ended. The last thing he needed was an emergency. Grimly, he picked up the handset.

  “Hey there, big brother! What are you up to this fine and sunny afternoon?”

  Tom grinned into phone. “Declan! It’s good to hear from you, mate. How’s the Academy treating you?”

  “Yeah, yeah. You know how it is. All work and no play.”

  “It doesn’t sound like the Academy I know. I’ve only been out two years. I can’t imagine it’s changed that much,” Tom replied in a dry voice.

  “Hey, what can I say? You’re a party animal. I prefer to sit in my room and study.”

  “You’re so full of shit, Declan Munro.” Tom grinned, pleased to hear from his brother. There were a couple of years between them, but they’d grown up close and it was always nice to catch up.

  “Hey, you know me better than anyone, bro. It’s not my fault if the boys drag me out to the bar more nights than not. What’s a man supposed to do?”

  Tom chuckled and shook his head. Declan had never been any different. Tall and broad-shouldered with looks the girls went wild for, he’d always had his fair share of women. Tom had lost count of the girlfriends Declan had brought home, not to mention the ones he hadn’t.

  Tom was happy for him. Each man to his own, that’s what he always said. Declan was happy to play the field. He had no intention of settling down and that was fine with Tom.

  “When are you coming back to Sydney?” Tom asked. “It’s been awhile since we had a night out on the town.” With the words barely out of his mouth, he thought of Lily.

  If he told her he wouldn’t drink again, did it apply when he was out with his mates? He frowned, unsure of the answer and even more uncertain of his response. It was one thing not to drink in her presence, but did it have to mean no drinking, period? Like, never ever again? He wasn’t sure if he was comfortable with the possibility and uncertainty swirled in his gut.

  “I’m in the middle of end of year exams, Tom, so I’m not going to be able to get out of here until they’re over. What are you up to for Christmas? Are you going home?”

  Tom forced the somber thoughts from his mind and focused on his brother’s question. “I’m not sure, yet. The boss hasn’t done up the rosters that far ahead. I had last Christmas off, so the chances of being rostered on this year are pretty high.”

  “Crap. Oh, well. I guess I’ll have to keep the single, young women of Grafton entertained. It’ll be a tough job, but someone has to do it.”

  Tom laughed and the feel of it lightened his mood. It was good to catch up with his brother and it was even better knowing in a few short hours, he’d be once again spending an evening with Lily. He glanced at the clock and noticed the time. A surge of anticipation went through him.

  “Listen, Dec. I have to go. It’s nearly time to clock off and I have a few things to do.”

  “No worries, bro. Have a good one. I’ll speak with you soon.”

  Tom hung up the receiver and then pushed away from his desk. With excitement and anticipation dogging his footsteps, he strode to the locker room and collected his belongings. Waving good-bye to his colleagues on his way out, he left the building and headed straight for his car.

  * * *

  Lily’s pulse went into overdrive at the sound of Tom’s knock on the door. David was spending the night at a friend’s house, so answering it had been left up to her. Not that she minded. Over the ensuing week, she’d gotten to know Tom Munro better and better and she couldn’t wait to see him again.

  Swiping pink lip gloss across her lips, she ran the brush quickly through her ponytail before hurrying to open the door. She stood back and did her best to catch her breath. He looked so good in his fitted T-shirt and jeans.

  As if reading her thoughts, Tom’s gaze traveled from her hair down to her toes. Despite the warm afternoon, she’d dressed in leggings and a loose sweater. It was always cold on the ice.

  “Hi, beautiful. It’s great to see you.”

  Lily silently cursed the blush that stole across her cheeks, but smiled back at him. “Hi. It’s great to see you too and I love your T-shirt, but aren’t you going to be a little cold?”

  Tom shook his head and then pulled at his shirt. “I didn’t know you were a fan of Keith Urban.”

  “I think fan is putting it too lightly. My mother calls me a groupie. I’ve been to all of his concerts from about the age of fourteen. I haven’t missed one yet.”

  Tom quirked an eyebrow and his face broke into a grin. “Well, what do you know? I was at Keith’s concert earlier in the year. I was sitting in the first row of elevated seats back from the floor.”

  Lily looked at him sheepishly. “I was on the floor. Or more precisely, in the mosh pit.”

  “Boy, your mother was right. You are a groupie.”

  “No, just an avid fan. He has so many great songs, not to mention a very cute ass.”

&n
bsp; Tom laughed. “Ah, now we’re getting to the truth of it. Admit it, your interest in the country singer has nothing to do with his songs and everything to do with the way he fills out his jeans.”

  Lily grinned. “Maybe. I’m not going to deny he looks hot in a tight T-shirt and denims that cling to him in all the right places.” She dropped her gaze and ran it over his well-muscled chest and then dropped lower to his jean-clad thighs. She lingered on his zipper and her heart picked up its pace. “He looks just about as good as you do.”

  The air between them was suddenly charged with delicious heat and want and need. Lily remembered they were there alone and her excitement and nerves ratcheted up another notch. The sexual tension between them had been there right from the beginning, but until now, they’d done little more than kiss.

  And what a kiss it had been. She could still feel the warm pressure of his lips on hers and the heat that had spread through her body until every nerve ending was on fire. She’d yearned for more and more and more and had been powerless to stop.

  But, Tom had pulled away and though disappointed, she’d been gratified to see the same level of desire reflected in his eyes. He wanted it as much as she did. A part of her was pleased he was prepared to take things slow.

  Now, as the heat in his gaze drew her inexorably closer, she shut her eyes in anticipation. A moment later, his lips were on hers and she breathed a sigh of relief. His kiss was every bit as wonderful as she remembered and she gave as much as she took. While she hadn’t yet gone all the way with a guy, she’d perfected the art of kissing.

  Freddie Barclay was probably still gnashing his teeth over the fact that she’d refused to sleep with him in high school, but she’d learned a lot from him about kissing and for that, she was grateful. From the feel of Tom’s rock-hard erection that pressed insistently against her stomach, he was more than pleased with her performance.

  Once again, Tom was the first one to pull away and Lily couldn’t help feeling bereft. With her breath coming fast, she grinned at him. “We have to stop doing this.”