The Shooting (11 page)

“What time are you leaving for the hospital?”

His mother’s question intruded into his thoughts and he welcomed the distraction. “As soon as I’ve finished my coffee, if that’s all right with you?”

“Of course,” his father answered, making his way into the room. “We’re here for as long as you need us, son, and don’t worry about the kids. We’ll make sure they have everything they need.”

Tom threw his father a heartfelt look of relief. “Thanks, Dad. And you too, Mom. I’m so grateful to both of you for being here. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

His mom pushed back her chair and came around to his side of the table. She patted him on the shoulder in a sign of comfort, like she used to when he was a kid.

“Nonsense, Tom. You’d cope, just like you always do. Or one of your siblings would come to your rescue. You know how much they look up to you.” She shrugged. “You’re their oldest brother. They’d do anything for you.”

Tom cleared his throat of the lump of emotion that threatened to choke him. “Yeah, well, thanks anyway. I-I really appreciate your help.”

“Do you think Cassie and Joe will want to attend school today?” his dad asked.

Tom frowned. “Let’s leave the decision up to them. They might prefer to stay at home, at least for the next day or so. Hopefully we’ll have good news about Lily by then.”

“I’m sure you’re right, son. It wasn’t that long ago when I was the one lying in the ICU and everything turned out all right. These things take time. Leave it to the experts. They know what they’re doing.”

Tom nodded agreement. “It’s funny, the doctor who operated on Lily yesterday was the same one who treated Alex when she was shot. How’s that for coincidence?”

His mother frowned. “I thought she was treated at the Prince of Wales Hospital in Randwick?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Tom replied, remembering. “He must have transferred to the North Shore. I guess it was four years ago. People change jobs, get promotions.”

“Well, he did good work on Alex. Let’s hope he has a similar result with Lily,” his mom said.

“Yeah,” Tom murmured, wanting desperately to believe it. “Let’s hope.”

* * *

Cassie listened to the murmur of voices that drifted up from the kitchen to her bedroom second from the right at the end of the stairs, and tried not to think about why her grandparents had hopped on a plane overnight from Grafton. The knowledge that her mother had been shot by some weirdo fifth-grader at her mom’s school and now lay seriously injured in the hospital scared her to death. It just went to show how perilous life could be. Right when you thought everything was cruising along and life was back on track, it went and self-combusted and completely derailed itself again.

It was four years since she’d been stalked online by a child predator and eventually kidnapped and terrorized by him and despite countless hours of intensive therapy, the memories were still there. The sheer panic and mind-numbing terror every time she thought about it had eased, but she could never forget what happened—or that the perpetrator had been someone close to her family. Her mother’s stepbrother, James Gibbons, was now serving a ten-year sentence. She’d been duped by him online into believing he was a cute teenager. That would never leave her.

She shuddered to think about how many other innocent young girls would be taken in by the lies of online predators. Kids were so trusting. Her dad was a police officer. She’d been cautioned many times about the dangers of the Internet and still she’d become a victim.

It had cured her penchant for surfing the Internet and dropping into online chatrooms. She didn’t even have a Facebook or Twitter account and Instagram and Snapchat had never been given a chance. Her therapist encouraged her to join at least one social media network, just to prove to herself that it was possible to be part of the Internet world without falling prey to a monster, but so far, she hadn’t found the courage to take that step, no matter how much not doing it limited her and her ability to socialize with her friends.

Everyone was on Facebook. There were always stories about funny photos posted on Instagram, but still she resisted. If that isolated her from her peers, then so be it. She wasn’t prepared to take the risk of becoming a victim yet again.

Her parents understood and were supportive, but even they had weighed in on the issue not long after she’d turned seventeen. Being online was now a part of life. She couldn’t do any of her school assignments without logging on and using the Internet to research.

Her mom explained gently how it might be best for Cassie to ease her way back into the online world while she was still at home, under the support and guidance of her parents. If she moved out to attend college or even later, when she was old enough to secure a full time job, she’d need to be computer-savvy. There wasn’t a job Cassie would be interested in that wouldn’t require her to be on the computer.

Cassie understood where her mom was coming from, but still it didn’t help ease the fear that once online, she’d become a victim of an evil monster again. On some level, she knew her fears were silly and irrational, but she couldn’t seem to rid herself of them. And now with her mom dying in hospital at the hands of some crazy kid, it was obvious the world was as unpredictable as it was unsafe.

She bet her mom hadn’t thought for an instant when she woke for work yesterday morning that she’d be shot by a boy from her class and yet, it had happened. One moment she was a teacher doing her job and the next, she had a bullet through her belly. Her life had changed in an instant, just like Cassie’s had four years earlier.

It was the unpredictability of it that terrified her.
What if she was the next target in life’s sights?
What if she was thrown another unexpected curve ball? It might not mean being preyed upon again by a pedophile. It could be something as simple and random as being run down by a bus. But that’s what life was like. It chewed you up and spat you out without care or concern for the consequences and there was nothing you could do about it. It was like she stopped really living four years ago on that fateful day when James Gibbons destroyed her life.

Her heart rate thudded against her chest and she made an effort to slow it down, but even the deep-breathing exercises her therapist had shown her didn’t make an impact. The truth was, life and everything it entailed, now scared her to death. She didn’t know when the next disaster might happen. Everything around her was out of her control and she didn’t know what to do about it.

Reaching underneath her bed, she felt for the shoebox she had stored there and sighed in relief when her fingers closed around it. She pulled it out and removed the cover and reached in for the bottle of rum. Unscrewing the lid, she gulped down a mouthful, two, and then another. The alcohol burned her esophagus and slid down into her belly. Within moments, she was enveloped in a warm glow.

Her mother wasn’t a drinker and it was only on the odd occasion her father indulged. Even then, it was only a beer or two. She’d never seen him drunk. There was never any hard liquor in the house and she’d relied upon one of the older boys at school to buy her the bottle of rum. She’d heard from some of her friends that it was a good way to chill out and forget about the world and they were right. It interfered with her ability to concentrate and her grades were beginning to suffer, but that was a small price to pay for oblivion as far as she was concerned.

Staring at the bottle, she debated about taking another gulp. The liquor seemed to beckon to her. Supplied so conveniently, it was her escape from the world, her life line and she clung to it like a drowning person desperately holding onto a life preserver.

A gentle tap on her door made her heart skip a beat. With flustered fingers, she screwed the cap back on the bottle and tossed it under her bed. Arranging the bedclothes around her, she sleepily asked for the visitor to enter. Her dad stepped into the room.

Cassie’s gaze ran over his tired appearance. Though his hair was still wet from the shower, his clothes were already rumpled and he appeared weighed down with fatigue. She knew he was concerned for her mom and he had spent much of the evening at her mom’s bedside. A low ache formed deep in the pit of her belly and she had to blink back sudden tears. No wonder she was turning to alcohol as a means to blot out the pain.

“Hey, baby,” her dad murmured and attempted a half-hearted smile. “How’re you doing?”

Cassie’s return smile was just as weak as his. “I’m okay, Dad. How’s Mom?”

“She’s doing all right. I spoke to Uncle Brandon a little while ago. He spent the night at the hospital.”

“Has she woken up yet? I really want to talk to her.”

“Me, too, sweetheart. Me, too.”

“How long is it going to take, Dad? What if she never wakes up?” Cassie’s voice broke on the last few words and she bit down hard on another surge of emotion. Tears burned behind her eyelids. To her alarm, her dad moved closer and perched on the edge of her bed. He reached over and gently smoothed the hair out of her eyes.

“I’m not sure, honey. The doctors are doing all they can. She’s holding in there. All we can do is pray.”

“I want to see her again.”

“Of course. How about I pick you and Joe up after school? Who knows? She might even be awake by then.”

“I don’t want to go to school.”

Her dad nodded. “That’s okay. I think a day off under these circumstances is perfectly understandable. I’ve called work. I’m going to be take the next few days off. At least until Mom’s out of the ICU. I’m heading over there now to see how she’s doing.”

He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. Cassie froze, hoping he wouldn’t smell the alcohol on her breath. A moment later, he pulled back and stood and made his way to the door.

“I’ll call and let you know how Mom is and come back and get you and your brother a little later, if you like. Grandma and Grandpa are downstairs. Grandma’s got breakfast ready.”

Cassie turned over onto her side and tugged up the bedclothes around her shoulders. “I don’t feel like breakfast.”

A shadow of concern passed across her dad’s blue eyes and he compressed his lips and sighed. To her relief, he merely offered a brief nod of acceptance and then quietly left the room.

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.”