The Shooting (33 page)

“Lily? Is it you?” Her voice was so full of surprise and wonder, Lily was suddenly all choked up. This woman had just lost her son in the most horrific way and yet she could summon joy to discover her friend had woken from her coma.

“Yes, Hannah,” she gasped. “It’s me.” Despite her best efforts to maintain her composure, tears poured down Lily’s cheeks. She swallowed almost frantically. This wasn’t about her. She wasn’t the one who’d found her son dead.

“Oh, Lily, I’m so pleased you’re okay. I-I hadn’t heard the news that you’d regained consciousness. Are you all right? You’re calling me, so I assume you’re recovering. I—”

“Hannah, I… I just heard the news. I—”

A cry so full of agony and heartbreak cut through Lily’s words. She wanted to block her ears against the desolation, but forced herself to hold the phone up close against her ear. Her fingers turned white from the pressure.

“My baby, my baby. My poor little boy. What have I done? Oh, God, what have I done?”

“Hannah, it wasn’t your fault. You have to believe that.”

“Of course it was my fault! All of it was my fault. Even the shooting was my fault. He told me it was because of the bullying. It had been going on forever. He’d told me about it and I ignored it, thinking it would go away. I
ignored
it, Lily, my own son!”

“You couldn’t have known it would turn out this way, that he’d—”

“He
told
me so! He told me it was the reason he took the gun. I didn’t do anything to protect him, so he was going to protect himself. I failed him, Lily, my own son. I failed him and now he’s dead.”

Her sobs grew louder and more out of control and Lily’s pain intensified. The wounds in her chest and stomach were on fire and her mouth was as dry as wood. She licked her lips and tried to think, to come up with words of comfort, but she came up empty. She swallowed a moan of pain.

Tom stood and came nearer, a dark frown marking his face. She could tell he was upset because he was worried about how her conversation with Hannah was affecting her. It was obvious she was doing it tough.

But not as tough as her friend. Never as tough as that.

“I still can’t believe it, Lily. I still can’t believe it’s true. I keep expecting to see him tearing down the stairs or hear him in the bathroom. I’ve been praying so hard since this happened—the shooting and…everything…and it’s all been for nothing. He’s dead, my little boy is dead.”

The heartbreaking sobs renewed themselves and Lily cried just as hard. She jammed her fist against her mouth in an effort to keep the sobs in. Tom looked like a thundercloud, but there was nothing she could do. She would listen to her friend and be there for as long as it took.

“I remember when that awful thing happened to Cassie and you were beside yourself with fear. We prayed together for God to bring her home safe and sound. And He did. He
did
. Why, Lily? Why was your child spared, when mine was not? Why? Why?
Why?”

The tears continued to pour down Lily’s cheeks and she squeezed her eyes tight against the pain. Hannah didn’t know about Cassie’s latest brush with death, but it didn’t matter. In fact, it was better this way. Nothing could change what had happened to Brady and no matter how much she wished it were different, she had no answers for her friend.

“I’m sorry, Hannah. I’m so, so sorry…”

* * *

Seated beside her niece’s hospital bed, Chanel took Cassie’s hand in hers and squeezed it. The warmth and healthy color of the girl’s skin was reassuring and Chanel swallowed a sigh of relief. The doctors had given her niece a good report. They were confident they’d reversed the effects of the drugs. The alcohol in her system was also diminishing with every passing hour.

Chanel checked the monitor beside Cassie’s bed and was relieved to see her vital signs were back within the normal range. A moment later, the girl stirred and her eyelids fluttered open. She frowned up at Chanel, as if trying to place her.

“Aunty…Chanel? Is that you? Where am I? What are you doing here?”

Chanel shook her head and bit her lip on a surge of emotion. They’d come so close to losing her and her niece had no idea. Drawing in a fortifying breath, Chanel plastered an encouraging smile on her face.

“Cassie, honey, you’re in the hospital. I-I found you at home in your bed. You were unconscious, but you’re fine now.”

A frown marred the perfect, smooth skin of Cassie’s forehead. “Unconscious? Are you sure? I didn’t have that much to drink.”

“Yes, honey. I’m sure. It wasn’t the quantity of alcohol you consumed. Mixing the alcohol with the drugs caused the problem. I’m just glad I found you before it was too late.”

“Too late? As in…I could have
died?
”

“Yes, you could have. But let’s not think about that. We got you to the hospital in time and they’ve done what needed to be done to save you. I was lucky that I could tell them exactly what you’d taken. I found the bottles and pills in your room.”

Cassie drew in a deep breath and let it out on a sigh. Tears of remorse filled her big blue eyes. “Oh, God! What are my mom and dad going to say? I’m sorry, Aunty Chanel. I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t mean to start on that stuff. It’s just that, there’s been so much crap going on in my life lately, I thought I’d escape it for a while.”

Chanel pulled her chair up closer to the bed. “Is it because of what happened to your mom and dad? Is that what you’re talking about?”

Cassie lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “That’s part of it.”

“Well, I’m not sure if Grandma told you, but your mom and dad are fine. Your mom’s awake and talking. They’ve moved her out of the ICU. Your dad had his operation and all went well with him, too. He’s being released from hospital now. They’re going to be fine. They’ll be home soon and you won’t have anything to worry about.”

Cassie nodded. “That’s good news, Aunty Chanel. That’s really good news.” She looked away, but not before Chanel caught the shimmer of fresh tears in her eyes.

“That’s not all that’s going on, is it?” Chanel hoped her gentle tone would coax something more from her niece.

Cassie shook her head in a jerky motion and swiped at her tears. Chanel reached for her hand and held it tightly.

“Talk to me, honey. What else has got you down? Tell me what’s bothering you. Who knows, maybe I can help?”

Cassie looked up and her eyes flashed with pain. “No one can help. I should know. I’ve had plenty of people try. Mom and Dad spent a fortune on psychologists and counselors and self-help books full of positive acclamations. I lost count of all the people I talked to and all those who tried to help. They can’t help. No one can. I’m going to live with what that man did to me for the rest of my life.”

Chanel recalled the horrific events of a few years ago and suddenly understood. A feeling of uselessness flooded through her veins. What Cassie said was true. She’d probably never forget the trauma she’d been subjected to. Chanel couldn’t imagine the terror the girl must have felt.

“I’m…I’m sorry, Cassie. I wish like hell there was some other way I could help you.”

“Like I said, no one can help me.”

The desolation in Cassie’s voice tore strips right off Chanel’s heart. Fury at the man who had caused it burned through her. It was just as well James Gibbons was still locked up in jail. The way Chanel felt in that moment, she could tear him limb from limb.

She prided herself on being a non-violent person, but the way she felt about child predators negated all that. They were the lowest form of life and she’d gladly vote to see them executed. No good could come from a society that believed in keeping them alive. It was a shame the politicians and civil rights activists didn’t see it that way, but that’s the way it was.

As if able to read her thoughts, Cassie rolled over in the bed and turned to face the wall. Chanel felt her rejection like an arrow through the heart. Her niece had been waiting for an answer, some hope that she could cling to, reassurance that she was wrong—that she would get over the shocking events of her childhood, that one day, things
would
be better.

But Chanel didn’t have the words and couldn’t give the reassurances. She clenched her jaw in frustration and her heart ached. She wished her sister, Josie, were here. Josie was a child psychologist. She had a PhD. She’d know what to say to help Cassie, to bring a smile back to her face.

But Josie wasn’t here yet, and Cassie was crying out for help. Chanel had to do something, say something that would bring her niece even a modicum of hope.

“I understand the ghosts of your past and how they might still be tormenting you, but honey, drinking and using drugs aren’t going to make them go away. Okay, the therapy didn’t work out so well, but it doesn’t mean we give up. It just means we have to work harder at finding a solution that will help you heal.”

Cassie ignored her for long moments and Chanel began to despair. She couldn’t force the girl to talk or to concede that it was worth trying something else. Then Cassie moved and Chanel eased out her breath. A moment later, her niece’s shoulders shook on a heartrending sob.

“I’m sorry, Aunty Chanel. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. No, that’s not right. I knew exactly what I was thinking. I wanted a way to escape the pain, blur the memories that just won’t go away. It started out with just the alcohol, but when Mom got shot and then Dad got sick…

“A boy from school offered me some pills. He said I’d float on a cloud so high, nothing would feel bad ever again. I wanted so much to believe him. I tried it and he was right. What he didn’t tell me was that the feeling wouldn’t last long enough and things would go back right to what they were.”

“Honey, I don’t need to tell you how dangerous it is taking speed. You don’t have a clue who’s made it and what they’ve put in it. I hear horror stories from the police about ecstasy tablets that are filled with paint thinners, acetate, rat poisoning and a heap of other toxic chemicals. Combine that with alcohol and there’s a real possibility you’ll wind up dead. It could have happened this morning if I hadn’t stopped by.”

Chanel stared hard at her niece and tried to make her understand. “Is that what you want, Cassie? To swallow a handful of pills and never wake up? Because it can happen. It
does
happen. More often than you think.”

The girl was sobbing loudly now and Chanel’s heart clenched with pain. The tough love lecture might have been warranted, but it hurt her to do it just the same.

“S-sometimes I do, Aunty Chanel. Sometimes that’s exactly what I want.”

Chanel cried out in shock and dragged Cassie into her arms. Her niece’s sobs grew desperate and hot tears ran down Chanel’s cheeks. Her beautiful niece had lost all hope and was hurting way down deep inside. Despite all the years of therapy, she still had moments that were of darkest black.

The knowledge was polarizing and so very sad. Somehow, somewhere every one of them had failed the young girl in her arms. They loved her, they wanted to help her, they’d found people she could talk to, but it hadn’t solved the problem.

They had to try harder, find better therapists, never give up until they knew for sure it was done—that Cassie, their beautiful niece, daughter and granddaughter was in a truly happy place. Chanel wasn’t a trained psychologist and she couldn’t know for sure if it were even possible, but she was going to try her utmost to bring peace back into Cassie’s life.

“Please, honey, don’t cry. It’s going to be all right. You’ll see. You’re surrounded by people who love you and we are all going to fight to the death for your happiness. Aunty Josie will be here soon and she’ll do everything she can to help you through this. We all will.”

Cassie lifted her tear-stained face, her eyes red and puffy. “Do you really mean it?”

“You’d better believe it.”

* * *

Lily was still a patient in the hospital when Brady Sutton was laid to rest. The media had been on a feeding frenzy from the moment the news broke. They’d called her phone incessantly and had even tried to steal into her room. She was more than grateful for the vigilant hospital staff and their keen-eyed security.

The piranhas of the media all wanted the same thing: a sound bite for their news bulletin. She didn’t know what they expected of her, but she’d be damned if she’d give them anything. The knowledge of Brady’s death, and the fact he’d been bullied by his mates right under her nose, left a hole deep down inside her and it didn’t matter that he’d been the one who had nearly taken her life.

He was a child, a boy of eleven. What did he know of the world? She still hadn’t gotten all the details as to why it had happened, but the Brady she’d known for years hadn’t been an evil child.

And Hannah. Poor, Hannah. How was she to cope with the loss of her only child? While Lily could still recall how she’d felt when her stepbrother had kidnapped Cassie, she hadn’t had to deal with the realization her baby was never coming back. It was too much to ask of any mother and she prayed desperately that God would be there to comfort Hannah in these darkest of hours.

Tom and Cassie and Joe had attended the funeral and all three had been quiet and grim when they visited her later in the hospital. Lily was especially pleased to see her daughter up and about. She hadn’t wanted Cassie to go to the funeral, but the girl had insisted, saying she wanted to show Ms Sutton her support. It was what Lily would have done had she been able and Lily had been proud that her daughter had found the courage to attend. There hadn’t been an opportunity for Lily to have the heart to heart discussion with Cassie that was long overdue, but as soon as she was home again, she’d make sure it happened.