by Anne Ashby
Grasping her shoulders, he eased Zoe away. His gaze remained fixed on the darkened ceiling as realization dawned. He could help abused children. Gran’s been telling me so for years.
A weird sense of calm overcame him. His eyes widened. Where are those physical responses that cripple me every time I remember? The chills, the breathing difficulties, the dizziness? The flinching, the cringing, the acute fear?
He sucked in deep breaths. Those terrible feelings weren’t tearing at his insides now. I can do this. His back straightened. His chest puffed out. I can make this one little boy’s life better.
His gaze locked with Zoe’s. Instead of mirroring his own uncertainty, in her eyes he saw blazing confidence. He planted a quick kiss on her lips. “I’m going to try.”
“You’ll succeed.”
Her lack of doubt in his ability bolstered him. “I sure as hell hope you’re right.” He squeezed her arm. “Thank you, Zoe.”
He strode through the door to the patient cowering in the bed. He grasped a chair and sat close to the bed. Chatting to the boy, he concentrated on taking all the time necessary to gain some level of trust.
Even he was surprised how quickly the boy responded. But then he’d managed to hit upon the child’s passion, basketball, pretty quickly. Knowing little about this particular sport, Connor asked leading questions which allowed the child to begin prattling as if nothing else was bothering either of them.
“How did you break your leg, Peter?” Connor sneaked the question in, and immediately followed up with a teasing, “Did your slam dunk not work?”
The boy’s relaxed expression disappeared and he mumbled about falling down the stairs.
“Is that really what happened, Peter? Did you really fall down the stairs?” Connor held his breath for a moment. “Or did someone do this to you?”
“Nobody did it.” Color rose in the boy’s cheeks. “It was my fault.”
“I don’t think that’s right, son. I know it definitely wasn’t your fault.” Connor sought to reassure the boy by patting his arm, but it was yanked out of his reach the moment he made contact.
“Do you know why I know it wasn’t your fault?”
The child’s now-sullen eyes were watching him, but he’d retreated as far from Connor as the bed would allow.
“When I was young I fell down a lot of stairs, too. And I kept getting told it was my fault.” Connor slowly stood, his heart pounding so hard in his throat he wondered if he would choke.
Clumsy fingers wrestled with the buttons on his shirt as he undid them. Finally, taking a shuddering breath, Connor slipped the shirt from his shoulders and shutting out the gasp from his colleagues, he turned his back toward his patient. “I know, Peter. I know how you’re feeling.” His pleading voice over his shoulder begged the child to believe him.
“My father did that to me, Peter. And this, and this.” He touched the scars on his face and more on his stomach. “And much more that doesn’t show. No one believed me when I tried to tell because he was a well-respected businessman.”
Clutching his shirt in his fists, he sank back onto the seat. “But as I got older, it got worse, Peter. He started hurting me more and more. There weren’t any good times anymore. No more apologies he didn’t mean. He needed help to stop doing what he was doing.”
“Did he get it?”
It was pointless telling this boy Connor knew nothing about what happened to his father, either in prison or afterwards. “No, or at least I don’t know. I ran away. I found someone who’d listen to me, who believed me and not my father. I found someone who could keep me safe.”
He reached across the bed and grasped the boy’s arm. “We can make sure you’re safe, Peter. I know he’ll tell you he’s sorry and this will be the last time, son, but it won’t stop. No matter how good you are or how much you do to please, it’ll never be enough.
“Peter, who did this? Was it your father?”
A deep sense of failure overcame him as the boy’s lips glued together and he avoided Connor’s eyes.
Swallowing his disappointment, Connor stood and slipped on his shirt. “Can I leave you to think about it for a little while? Whoever it is, he has to stop it, Peter. He needs to talk to a special doctor who might be able to help him feel better. Would you think about that for me?”
The boy nodded. “Can Grandma come back?”
“In a few minutes, Peter. Does your grandmother know who did this to you?”
The boy’s emphatic head shake was all the answer he gave.
“Okay, Peter. I’m going to talk to your grandma for a few moments and then she’ll come back. The nurse will get her a mattress and blanket and she can sleep right here beside you.”
“All night?”
“All night.”
Although frustrated the boy hadn’t named his assailant, striding out of that room Connor felt a purpose like never before. His back straightened as he strode toward the waiting room buttoning his shirt.
Doubts clamored into his head. Can I achieve something here? Could the misery of my past really be of some benefit to others?
“Mrs. Liddell?” He sank down onto a seat in front of the distraught woman.
“I can’t believe it. It can’t be true.” Her beseeching eyes turned to him. “Please tell me it’s all a mistake.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Liddell. X-rays show Peter has had numerous broken bones. We have no record of him having been admitted to hospital. I understand he has always lived in Auckland?”
She nodded.
“Unless they can all be explained… Do you see Peter regularly?” He listed the evidence of the x-rays, causing the woman to shrink even further into her seat. “Are you aware of any of these injuries?”
“I can’t believe it. Could he have got them playing? He likes to run around. He’s very boisterous.”
Connor hated to see the hopeful look in her eyes disappear as he shook his head.
“Oh, my poor little Petey.” She sobbed. “My son…I can’t believe that he’d…I know he has a temper, but…no, not this.”
“We’ll get it sorted out, Mrs. Liddell.” He helped her to her feet. “You know, Peter is so much luckier than many children in his situation.”
At her wavering look, Connor continued, “He has a grandmother who cares. A lot of these children feel totally alone; have no one they feel they can turn to. He needs to believe you can protect him.”
Admiration rose for the small woman as she stiffened her back and marched down the corridor beside him. “Oh, don’t you worry about that, Doctor. If Greg so much as breaths near him, I’ll…I’ll…”
Connor patted her on the shoulder. “Thank you, Mrs. Liddell. That’s the type of commitment Peter needs right now.”
After writing up his notes and confirming Kelly’s recommendation to call in the doctor responsible for sexual and serious abuse care, Connor yawned as he glanced at his watch.
Not exactly how he’d hoped the night might progress, but he’d learned something about himself in the last couple of hours. One last look in at Peter found him sleeping, his plastered leg hanging from a stirrup above the bed. His battered face was somehow almost peaceful.
Connor acknowledged the boy’s grandmother planted at the bedside. By the looks of her, she was unlikely to get much sleep this night.
Zoe was lying half across the desk, her head cushioned in her arms, fast asleep.
Tonight they’d been so close. So close to sharing something wonderful. Before it had all turned to custard because I forgot to leave my damned pager at home. What an idiot! I’d been so wound up thinking about spending time with Zoe, my damned brain stopped working.
He sighed as he looked down at Zoe. He’d often imagined her waking up beside him, but the image in his mind was so far removed from this, he smiled. He bent to awaken her. “Hey, sleepyhead. Time to get up.”
Her lips twitched as she murmured something and snuggled her head further into her arms.
“Zoe. Come on
, babe, it’s time to go home.”
He bent over and nibbled at her ear when she made no response. Lucky to escape injury as her body shot upright, Connor put his arm around her and drew her to her feet. “Let’s go.”
“You’ve finished?” She looked toward Peter’s door.
“For now.” He steered her toward the lift, only giving her a moment to make her farewells to those left on duty.
“What will happen to that little boy?” Zoe couldn’t help asking as they left the hospital.
Connor shrugged. “His case will be handed over to the DSAC first thing in the morning—”
“DSAC?”
“I guess it’s almost a specialization. Each hospital has at least one doctor, if not more, trained for sexual and serious abuse care. They work closely with the police and social welfare.”
“Are you a DSAC?”
Connor abruptly shook his head. “My head’s not in the right space. I can’t handle that sort of responsibility. A doctor for sexual abuse care needs to stay detached, calm; able to assemble and present the facts.”
“Like you did tonight?”
His gaze slid sideward. “I couldn’t remain unemotional.” His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “I’d be tempted to kill the bastards.”
“But you wouldn’t.” Zoe’s voice was loaded with certainty. “You were wonderful in there tonight. You got through to that little boy.”
“Did I?” Connor cursed his inadequacy. “He never admitted who hurt him.”
“But he’ll be safe, his grandmother will see to that. Your actions helped save that boy’s life, Connor. You and I both know how abuse magnifies over time.” Zoe wriggled more comfortably into her seat, resting her cheek against the head rest as she smiled at him. “You’d be a brilliant DSAC.”
A little of the night’s tension began to fade. “And you base this assumption on what?”
“You. Knowing you.” Zoe yawned.
Connor slumped lower in his seat. “I’ve never considered the possibility.”
“Haven’t you?” she sounded surprised. “I think you should. I bet that little guy feels he’s not alone anymore.” Warmth rose from Connor’s neck as she continued showering him with praise. “What you did was terrific. It must have taken a lot of guts.”
Zoe’s words and her hand on his leg made him feel ten-foot tall. What he’d achieved for himself tonight made him feel like he’d conquered Everest. He tittered.
Have I thrown off the chains I’d tied myself up with? He still couldn’t believe he’d actually taken off his shirt in front of not only that little patient, but his colleagues as well.
Do something practical with the burden of your past. His grandmother’s advice echoed inside his head. Could this be the beginning of a cure for the anger and pain I’ve kept locked inside for so many years? He laughed, more strongly, more confidently.
Perhaps. Just perhaps, it might be. “I don’t think I could have done that without you.”
“Of course you could. That kid needed to feel some solidarity and you latched onto how to achieve that.” She shot him a smile. “It had nothing to do with me.”
Connor clutched at her hand, knowing she was wrong, knowing he’d needed her faith in him to make the bold gesture. But now it had been made, weight had lifted from his shoulders.
“We’d better not get too excited about what I supposedly did. Peter might not be willing to talk.”
“Oh he’ll talk, I’m sure of it.” Her voice hardened. “And hopefully tomorrow they’ll lock the bastard up and throw away the key.”
Connor patted her hand in agreement. “We’ll see,” he murmured.
Silently entering their grandmother’s house, no mention was made about how the evening should have ended. The gentle kiss they shared as they parted in the hallway was enough for each to know. While tonight hadn’t ended as they’d expected, there would be other nights to fill with passion.
Chapter Twelve
“Can’t you take some time off, or cut down your hours a bit?”
Zoe’s eyes bulged as she stared across the dinner table at Connor following his belligerent words.
“I-we never see you unless you’re so tired, or you’re rushing off somewhere. You’re not doing your health any good at all.”
A smile tugged at Zoe’s mouth as he tried to cover his frustration in front of Bess.
“I didn’t realize you missed me.” An imp inside her threw the words out before she had time to think.
“You know…” His face reddened as he glanced at Bess.
Zoe’s pulse raced as he jumped from his seat and strode around the table, grabbing hold of her arm and dragging her giggling through the kitchen and into the garden.
She could hear from inside the house her grandmother’s tinkling laugh as Connor captured both her hands and, pushing her against the side of the garage, held her arms above her head.
“Do you want me to show you?” He pressed himself against her body. Her stomach churned with excitement as his gaze fell from hers to her parched lips. Unconsciously parting them to allow her tongue to slip across her upper lip, she shivered as Connor growled deep in his throat.
“For God’s sake, stop that.” His eyes were locked on her mouth. “You’re killing me.”
And to display his discomfort he ground his hips forward even tighter against her.
“I want to be with you,” he whispered.
She moved her mouth to capture the lips playing havoc across her face. “And I you.”
He buried his face against her neck. “Hell. We need some privacy. I need to get a place, now, today. I’ll book a hotel.”
She couldn’t help it, a giggle escaped.
“Do you think it’s funny?” He glared at her.
“No.” She giggled again. “Definitely not funny, frustrating maybe, but not funny.”
He could have no doubt of her response to his touch. She was lucky she could still stand, her legs felt so mushy. “Isn’t there a wise old saying about abstinence making the h…wait worthwhile?”
She bit her lip. Hard. She’d almost given herself away.
Although Connor desired her company and her body, he’d never said anything to suggest his feelings went beyond a physical need.
Perhaps something more could come of this blazing heat between them, but since she’d admitted to herself how much she cared for him, she’d been desperately hoping.
If all he could offer was less than she dreamed of, then she’d be content with what she could get. Any time with Connor would be worth more than a lifetime with anyone else.
He chuckled. “I think you’ve got that a little screwed up.”
“I thought I might have.”
“Zoe.” He held her away from him. “This weekend, do you have to work? Could you take a couple of days and come away with me? Or even better, take a week and we’ll go to Fiji, or Vanuatu, somewhere no one could disturb us…”
Zoe’s eyes bulged so much she wondered they didn’t fall out of their sockets.
“You could arrange it, couldn’t you? Your boss is pretty much a friend, isn’t he?”
Excitement grew inside her, rolling around and taking control. Thinking of going away with Connor was thrilling enough for Zoe, but to have him suggest a romantic setting she’d only seen in the movies. Connor’s excitement was contagious.
“All you need is your passport, I’ll arrange everything else.”
It was like a pin had been pricked into the happy bubble around Zoe. She slumped against the wall.
“How long does it take to get a passport?” she whispered.
“You don’t have a one?”
She shook her head, seeing the dream floating away. “I’d never been out of Auckland before Christmas time.”
Does he know how deflated I feel?
The way he gathered her into his arms and held her suggested he did. “Don’t worry, there are so many beautiful places in New Zealand, we’ll find some of them before
I take you to all the places you’ve ever dreamed of seeing.”
“Connor?” She looked at him closely.
“There’s a huge world out there, Zoe. Let me show you.”
Zoe’s heart was racing at the heat in his eyes. She bit the inside of her lip, fearing she might be misinterpreting his suggestion.
Unable to gauge the exact meaning behind his words, she glanced away, knowing she’d accept anything he was willing to give. But she’d need more than a moment to bury the idealistic dream of love and home and a family of her own she’d harbored deep inside for so many years.
“Zoe?”
Turning her head, her breath caught at the hurt, baffled expression on his face.
She wavered, uncertain whether she had the nerve to demand a clearer explanation of his suggestion. Is he suggesting a series of shared weekends and holidays, or a shared life?
She dragged a deep breath into her lungs in the hope of calming her racing thoughts. If he’s suggesting a shared life, is that as a casual partner or is he contemplating marr…?
Her body gave way to a delicious shiver as his fingers cupped her chin.
“Zoe? What is it?” His whispered voice conveyed the confusion echoed in his expression.
“I…I…” Fear and confusion glued her tongue to the roof of her mouth.
Gentle lips lowered and rested against hers, their chaste touch warming her more than she could ever imagine.
“I love you, Zoe. You must know that?”
Zoe’s legs turned rubbery and she stumbled, would have fallen without his quick reactive grasp of her arms.
Connor’s lips twisted wryly as he stared into her eyes.
Zoe stared right back at him, knowing her mouth had dropped open.
He gave a self-deprecating little laugh, but continued. “I love everything about you. The person you are, the way you look, your loyalty to Gran and your friends, your determination to succeed, your quirky smile.”
Recognizing the strained hopelessness in his voice Zoe’s eyes bulged as they fell to his jumping-up-and-down Adam’s apple.
“Mostly I think I love your laughter, the way you can find fun in the most simple—”
Unable to stand the desolation in his voice any longer, although his words were filling Zoe with an excitement she’d never allowed herself to dream of, she stretched up and planted kisses all over his face.