Unlocking Her Surgeon's Heart

by Fiona Lowe

  ‘Fair enough.’ Shane sat down at his wife’s head and took over from Lily, the gun still in his other hand.

  Lily walked over to Noah, her face impassive like she was on automatic pilot. He got the sense she’d gone somewhere deep inside herself to get through this. He surreptitiously squeezed her hand. ‘Time to gown up.’

  ‘Time to gown up,’ she repeated softly, saying the words like a mantra. ‘We can do this. You can do this.’

  Her belief in him slid under him like a flotation device, holding him up out of the murky depths of fear. He was operating in a makeshift operating theatre on a woman who might die on the table, a baby who might be born dead, and he was doing it all in the presence of an unpredictable guy holding a gun.

  Don’t go there.

  Panic didn’t belong in surgery and as the mask, gown and gloves went on, everything superfluous to the surgery fell away.

  Quickly draping Kylie’s abdomen, he picked up the scalpel. ‘Making the incision. Have the retractors ready.’

  A minute and half later he was easing the baby out of the uterus. Lily double-clamped the cord and he cut it, separating the baby from Kylie.

  ‘He’s blue.’ Shane’s panicked eyes followed Lily as she carried the baby to the cot and gave him oxygen. ‘Is he alive?’

  God, he hoped so, but right now he was battling with keeping the surgical field free of blood and he needed another pair of hands.

  ‘He’s got a pulse,’ Lily said, relief clear in her voice. ‘Come on, little guy, breathe.’ A moment later the baby gave a feeble cry.

  ‘That’s my boy. Finally after three useless girls I get a son.’ The pride in his voice was unmistakable.

  Noah almost lost it. He wanted to vault the table and take the guy down. Instead, he bit his tongue to stop the fury that boiled in him from spilling over and putting him and Lily in even more danger.

  The baby’s cry thankfully got stronger. One saved. One to go. He battled on, trying to find the bleeder in a surgical field awash with blood.

  The automatic blood pressure machine beeped wildly, the sound screaming danger and flashing terrifyingly low numbers. He refused to allow Kylie to die. ‘Lily, put up another bag of plasma expander, administer oxytocin and re-glove. I need you here with suction. Now.’

  A stricken look flared in Lily’s eyes as she placed the cot next to Shane and he understood her dilemma. This bastard had caused this mess and now they had to depend on him.

  ‘Please, Shane, will you watch the baby to make sure he doesn’t stop breathing?’ Lily said evenly and devoid of all the fear that burned in her eyes. ‘Your wife and son need you.’

  ‘Of course they need me,’ he said, his shoulders straightening with warped pride. ‘They depend on me for everything.’

  Noah could only imagine the chilling smile that Shane’s surgical mask was hiding. The complicated web of emotions that was domestic violence was anathema to him. How could men profess to love a woman and children and yet cause so much damage and pain? If he had his way, after all of this was over, he’d be appearing in court, giving evidence against this man and hoping he got jail time.

  First things first. Save Kylie, disarm Ambrose.

  The reassuring and tantalising whirring noise of the emergency evacuation helicopter sounded overhead and Noah prayed Kylie would get the chance to use its services.

  Lily adjusted the suction and more blood bubbled up.

  He swore quietly and cauterised another bleeder. He held his breath. Please, let that be the last one. They had limited supplies of plasma expander and Kylie’s heart would only pump if it had enough circulating volume to push through it.

  The field stayed miraculously clear.

  He raised his eyes to Lily’s, whose glance said, Thank you.

  The blood-pressure machine stopped screaming but they weren’t out of the woods yet. ‘Shane, Kylie needs blood and she needs to be evacuated to an Intensive Care Unit in Melbourne the moment I’ve stitched her up.’

  ‘And my son?’ he asked, his gaze fixed on his newborn baby.

  ‘He needs to be examined by a paediatrician,’ Lily said quietly.

  ‘Why?’ Ambrose’s eyes darted between Lily and Noah. ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘He seems okay,’ Lily said, ‘but we just like to be thorough.’

  ‘Shane,’ Noah said, seeing a potential weak spot in their captor, ‘we want your son to have the best medical care possible.

  ‘Damn right. Get over here and squeeze this bag.’ Shane kept the gun pointed firmly on Lily as he used the phone to call the police sergeant, demanding that the emergency medical staff meet them at the front doors.

  ‘How much longer are you going to take, Doc?’

  ‘Five minutes.’

  Shane put his finger against the baby’s palm and grinned when his son’s fingers closed tightly around it. ‘Strong little beggar, like his dad.’

  ‘Does he have a name?’ Lily asked.

  Noah’s gaze jerked up from closing the muscle layer of Kylie’s abdomen. For the first time Lily sounded herself, as if this were a totally normal childbirth scenario.

  ‘Jed,’ Shane said.

  ‘A good choice. A strong name for a fighter,’ Lily said almost conversationally.

  Lily, what are you doing?

  ‘Look, he’s looking for a drink,’ Shane said. ‘Kylie always breastfeeds them.’

  Not this time, buddy. Noah struggled with the normality of the conversation. It was like Shane had conveniently forgotten that his violence had put his wife and child in mortal danger. ‘I’ve finished.’ Noah set down the scissors. ‘Shane, she needs to go now.’

  ‘What about the baby?’ Shane asked, still keeping the gun trained on both of them.

  ‘Can you please bring him?’ Lily started walking backwards, still bagging Kylie.

  Noah manoeuvred the trolley through the wide treatment room doors wishing he could read Lily’s thoughts.

  ‘Don’t try anything,’ Shane said, keeping the gun trained on the both of them as the police and medical evacuation team met them at the front door.

  Noah gave a rapid handover, finishing with, ‘She needs blood five minutes ago.’

  As the flight nurse relieved Lily of the bagging job and the trolley disappeared out the door, Shane grabbed Lily by the arm, pulling her away from Noah. She stumbled backwards.

  Noah’s heart flipped and he held up his hands. ‘Shane—’

  ‘You go with Kylie, Doc. I trust you.’

  No way in hell. ‘What about the baby, Shane? I thought you wanted him checked out too?’

  ‘Lily knows about babies and she’ll do until you send a baby doctor in.’

  ‘I’ll be fine, Noah,’ Lily said so softly he barely heard, but her gaze—full of love—loudly implored him to leave. To take this opportunity for his own safety.

  His heart ripped into two. She loved him. Despite what she’d told him, despite sending him away, she loved him. What should have been the most wonderful news now rocked him with its devastating irony.

  The gun moved directly to Noah’s chest. ‘Get out, Doc. Right now.’

  Noah felt one of the police officer’s hands wrap around his upper arm. ‘Do as he says, Dr Jackson.’

  At that moment the baby, who’d been quiet for so long, started to cry.

  ‘Shane, do you want to hold your son?’ Lily asked quietly. ‘Give him a bottle?’

  Shane hesitated, his hand tightening on the gun. Noah, backing slowly out of the door, could see the man’s mind working out all the logistics. ‘You pick him up and give him to me.’

  Lily did exactly as he asked and settled the baby in the crook of his arm.

  Shane jiggled his arm to try and sooth the crying baby but Jed, now awake and hungry, wouldn’t be silenced. He kicked his little legs, destabilising his position in his father’s arm, and Shane, momentarily distracted, moved his gun-holding hand to adjust the baby.

  The baby screamed.

  Lily m
oved.

  No! Noah watched, horrified, as she slammed the side of her hand into Shane’s wrist.

  Shane roared. The gun dropped and somehow Lily had it in her hands. Noah threw himself forward, grabbing Shane before he could do anything to Lily.

  The police poured into the building, guns raised, and immediately surrounded Shane. Noah relinquished his grip on the man, stepping back as a police officer took the baby and another handcuffed Shane.

  Lily sank to her knees, the gun falling from her hands.

  Noah ran to her, wrapping his arms around her, holding her tightly, convinced she was going to vanish any second. He frantically kissed her hair, her face and stroked her back. ‘You’re safe. You’re very safe. It’s over, Lily.’

  Her huge, blue eyes sought his. ‘We’re … both … safe.’

  ‘We are.’

  Her body shook violently in his arms and the next moment she vomited all over the floor.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  LILY OPENED HER eyes, recognising the bright pattern of Noah’s quilt. Vague memories of him telling the police she was in no fit state to give a statement and then being cradled in his arms slowly dribbled back.

  ‘Hey,’ Noah said softly. ‘Welcome back.’

  She turned to find him staring down at her, his face full of concern. Despite the fact she’d stupidly told him she didn’t love him, despite the hurt and pain she’d inflicted on his heart, he’d never left her side all night. It overwhelmed her. ‘What … what time is it?’

  ‘Seven. You’ve been asleep for eight hours.’

  ‘Gramps?’ Panic gripped her. ‘Is he okay? Does he know where I am?’

  Understanding crossed his face. ‘Bruce is fine. He’s relieved you’re safe and he knows you’re with me, getting the best medical care possible.’ He stroked her cheek. ‘I said I’d call him when you woke up.’

  She still felt half-asleep. Her limbs hung like lead weights and her brain struggled to compute, feeling like it was drowning in treacle. ‘What did you give me?’

  ‘A mild sedative. I promise it will wear off quickly but you needed it. It was really important that you sleep.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘Any nightmares?’

  ‘No.’ She shook her head and struggled up to rest against a bank of pillows before accepting the steaming mug of tea. ‘But I know the drill about nightmares. They’ll come later.’

  His lovely mouth grimaced. ‘The trauma counsellor wants to see us both later today and it’s important we go.’

  His matter-of-fact words pierced her, reminding her that he’d been through the same awful experience. She squeezed his hand. ‘What about you? Did you sleep? Are you okay? You had a gun pointed at you, just like me.’

  ‘I’m okay.’ He brushed her forehead with his lips. ‘I was more scared for you than for myself.’

  She didn’t understand. ‘Why?’

  His incisive gaze studied her. ‘Shane Ambrose’s vitriol was centred squarely on you.’

  ‘Yeah. He’s a misogynist.’ She stared into the milky tea. ‘You have the immunity of a Y chromosome.’

  ‘And I hated every minute of it,’ he said, his voice cracking with emotion. ‘I would have given anything to change places with you and when you karate-chopped him my heart almost stopped. You could have been shot.’ He stroked her hair. ‘Promise me you’ll never scare me like that again.’

  Tears welled up in her eyes. His love flowed into her like a life force, giving her hope that, despite all her fears, she hadn’t lost him. But before she could hope too much she owed him the truth. ‘Shane was distracted by the baby and I saw a chance and took it. I had to take it for Kylie and for you. For me. I’ve spent too many years being scared.’

  Worry lines creased his forehead. ‘Scared? I don’t understand. What you did was one of the bravest things I’ve ever seen.’

  She shook her head. ‘That wasn’t brave, it was just instinctive survival. I’ve got a Ph.D in that, courtesy of my marriage.’

  His face filled with compassion. ‘Perhaps you need to tell me about that.’

  She met his warm brown gaze. ‘There’s no perhaps about it, Noah. There are things you need to know about me, things I should have told you but I was too ashamed to tell you because I’ve always considered it my dirty little secret.’ She licked her dry lips. ‘Yesterday, when I had a gun pointed at my heart, I realised I should have told Kylie the story of my marriage weeks ago. I should have told you.’

  She gulped down her tea and told him fast. ‘You know how I said I’d fallen through a plate-glass window? Well, I didn’t exactly fall.’

  Noah’s skin prickled and flashes of the stoic, non-confrontational Lily from yesterday hammered him, making his gut roll. ‘My God, Lily, he pushed you?’

  Her gaze seemed fixed on a point on the quilt. ‘It was the night I left him. I was stupid. Despite his affairs, despite everything he’d done, I thought I owed him an explanation as to why I was leaving, why I was breaking a vow and a promise I’d made in good faith two years earlier.’ Her sad gaze met his. ‘But I learned there’s no such thing as a rational conversation with an irrational person who thinks that you’re his property. His chattel.’

  He had the primal urge to kill the unknown man. ‘You have nothing to be ashamed about, Lily,’ he said, keen to reassure her. ‘And neither does Kylie or any other woman in the same situation. These men are sick. Even if I hadn’t known that before, yesterday sure as hell taught me.’

  ‘Thanks.’ She gave him a wry smile. ‘On one level, I knew that Trent’s behaviour wasn’t my fault but when you’re cut off from friends and family, doubt sneaks in and it strips away your self-esteem so slowly that you’re not even sure it’s going until it’s gone. If you’re told often enough that you’re useless, hopeless, a disappointment, and that everything is your fault, then you slowly start to believe it.’

  ‘Please, believe me, you’re none of those things, Lily,’ he said gruffly, as a thousand feelings clogged his throat.

  She patted his hand as if he was the one needing reassurance. ‘I know,’ she said softly. ‘I truly do.’

  ‘So this Trent.’ He spat out the name. ‘Please, tell me he got charged for almost killing you.’

  ‘Yes, and there’s an intervention order in place against him but I find it hard to trust it. I know that’s stupid because he’s never once tried to break it.’ She wrung her hands. ‘Other women aren’t so lucky.’

  Slowly, things started to make sense to him. Her tension in the car the day they’d driven to Melbourne, her refusal to spend the weekend with him, her accusation that he was yelling when he’d only been emphatic. ‘All of this happened when you lived in Melbourne, didn’t it?’

  ‘Yes.’ Her eyes pleaded with him to understand. ‘I met Trent in Melbourne a few months before I started my Master’s of midwifery. He dazzled me with romantic gestures, poetic words and gifts. He had a way of making me feel incredibly special, as if I was the centre of his world. It was his suggestion that we elope because—’ she made air quotes with her hands ‘—there’s nothing more romantic.’

  Her hands fell back in front of her. ‘As it turned out, I married him for worse, with two strangers as witnesses in the Melbourne registry office. It should have been my first clue about things to come. How he’d work really hard at separating me from my few friends and Gramps.’

  He slid his hand into hers. ‘When did things start to change?’

  ‘When I started my midwifery lectures. We’d only been married for five weeks and the first four weeks of our marriage was our honeymoon, backpacking in Vietnam and Cambodia. He resented the time I needed to study. If I got engrossed in an essay and was late with dinner, he’d fly off the handle. Initially, I put it down to low blood sugar and him being tired and hungry after work.’

  She barked out a short, derisive laugh. ‘I wish it could have been that simple but it was so far from simple it made complicated look easy. The first time I stayed late for a delivery he refused to believe
I’d been at work all that time. He called me a slut, told me he knew I was sleeping with one of the registrars, and the more I denied it, the more he accused me of sleeping around. Although I didn’t know it at the time, the irony was that he was the one having affairs.

  ‘From that night he insisted on driving and collecting me when I had hospital placements. One night I accepted drinks after work with a group of fellow student midwives to celebrate someone’s birthday and he locked me out of the house for two hours. After that, he started to control our money. He took over the grocery shopping and restricted the amount of money I could access to a tram fare. Without access to cash, it was impossible to attend any social get-togethers and if you say no to invitations often enough, people stop issuing them.’

  He was battling to make sense of why his strong-willed Lily had found herself in this situation. ‘Why didn’t you tell someone what was happening?’

  ‘This is the hardest thing for people to understand. I was a small-town girl in a big city with no close friends and in a new course. Every time I got close to making a friend, Trent would sense it and find a way to destroy it.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘Domestic violence is insidious, Noah. Because your filter is clouded by love and you’re not expecting someone who professes to love you to hurt you, you’re in the middle of it before you realise. He effectively marooned me on an island of fear.

  ‘I threw myself into study and work and managed to qualify. I was the team member who took on any extra shifts on offer to avoid being at home.’

  ‘But didn’t he hate that?’

  She gave him a pitying glance. ‘Noah, there’s no logic to his behaviour. As much as he hated me not being at home where he could control me, he enjoyed the freedom my absences offered him. He still took me to and from work so he knew exactly where I was. One afternoon I came down with a high fever and work bundled me into a taxi and sent me home early. I found Trent in bed with a woman who had long blonde hair and blue eyes, just like me. She could have been my double. That night I told him I was leaving him.’