The Shooting (6 page)

* * *

Lily Strickland looked up from the group of men who surrounded her and noticed the good-looking stranger saunter near. She’d noticed him earlier, when she’d first arrived with David, but she hadn’t had a chance to enquire about him. Now he was standing less than three yards away and her heart skipped a beat.

Aware of the men around her eagerly waiting for her to finish her story, she took a breath and forced herself to concentrate. From the corner of her eye, she saw the tall stranger get comfortable against the wall. A moment later, he closed his eyes and appeared to drift off to sleep. Right beneath her nose.

She frowned in consternation. She wasn’t used to being ignored. Surely, he wasn’t
really
asleep?

And then she heard it. A snore. Soft and muffled and utterly gentlemanlike, but a snore just the same. She halted mid-sentence and stared at him, completely taken aback. He looked like a Greek God, an Adonis with his dark blond hair, thick and mussed. A sun-bleached hank of it hung over his forehead and partially obscured his eyes—eyes, she recalled from moments ago, that were as blue as the summer sky.

She’d lost herself in their depths for the few seconds he’d stared at her and her breath had caught from their impact. And then he’d frowned and squinted, as if trying to bring her into focus and the moment had been lost. But not the memory.

Never in her nineteen years had a man stirred her like he had and they hadn’t even exchanged so much as a greeting.
How could that be possible?
This wasn’t a Hollywood chick flick where the girl saw the guy and the cameras slowed and the music built and the girl fell instantly and deeply in love. That kind of idiocy only happened in the movies, not in real life.
Never
in real life.

And yet, she couldn’t deny that he’d triggered something way down deep inside her and she yearned to know more about the handsome stranger who’d captured her attention like no other. Except now, the man in question was snoring.

It would be a little damaging to any girl’s ego and she had to admit, she was slightly miffed. While the men around her hung on her every word, the only one that interested her was sleeping in the corner. She smiled wryly, in good humor. The scenario was more than a little bit comical.

Vowing to forget about him like he’d evidently forgotten about her, she turned back to the men she’d been entertaining with an amusing tale from a day in the life of a college student and continued on with her story. She was about to deliver the punch line when there was the sound of a thud, and a grunt, followed quickly by a curse.

“Fuck!”

The men around Lily turned in unison and stared at the man on the floor. A chuckle built up in Lily’s chest and burst out before she could stop it. She laughed and gasped and held her hand over her mouth in an effort to contain her mirth. The stranger stared balefully up at her from his place on the hard floor. His eyes narrowed dangerously.

Lily should have taken his dark look as her cue to stop, but her laughter continued to sound. He looked so surprised to find himself flat on his butt on the floor. Now, she simply
had
to know who he was.

* * *

Tom heaved himself up off the floor and surreptitiously rubbed his sore ass. One minute he’d been listening to the angel regale the men near her with tales of college shenanigans and the next he was coming into contact with the very hard, wooden floor. The least Charlie could have done was find an apartment that had carpet. Tom’s bum would be bruised for a week.

Not that anyone cared, from the looks of amusement on their faces. Even the angel thought it was funny. In fact, from the way she was splitting her sides laughing, she found it downright hysterical.

He shot her an intimidating look that would make most people go weak with fear, but it didn’t have the same effect on her. She looked like she had no intention of stopping. How could he have found her so desirable? She was a heartless, little witch. At last, Charlie appeared in the doorway, looking concerned.

“Tom, are you all right? What happened? Someone said you fell over. Did you hurt yourself?”

Knowing the angel could hear every word that was said and not wanting to embarrass himself further, Tom shrugged his shoulders in response and remained silent. If he were honest, his pride was damaged far worse than his ass.

Had he really fallen asleep?
Christ, he must have been more exhausted than he’d thought. He was at a party and he’d fallen asleep, right after locking eyes with the most beautiful girl in the world. And now she was laughing at him.

He snuck another glance in her direction and was relieved to find she’d sobered and was looking suitably concerned. She pushed her way through the crowd of men and came up to Tom with her hand extended.

It was pale and slender and her fingers were long. It was all Tom had time to comprehend before her soft, slim hand was in his. Her handshake was firm and sure and reminded him of the hidden strength he’d sensed in her earlier. She was made of sterner stuff than she looked. Her eyes, a bright, clear blue now sparkled with intelligence tinged with humor.

“Lily Strickland. Nice to meet you.”

“T-Tom. Tom Munro. It’s… It’s nice to meet you, too.”

“Really? A moment ago you were snoring. I was sure I’d bored you to sleep.” She grinned and then offered him a wink.

A fresh wave of embarrassment swept over his cheeks, but her teasing went right through him. It unsettled his gut and suddenly it felt like a swarm of butterflies had been let loose inside him. He swallowed and tried to get his tongue to work so he would appear somewhat in control of his faculties. At the same time, he silently cursed the rum that clouded his brain.

He wanted to be sharp and witty and clever for this vision in front of him who still couldn’t help but grin. He opened his mouth and waited for some brilliant repartee to come pouring forth.

“I don’t snore.”

He clamped his mouth shut in horror, unable to believe he’d come out with such a lame line. Here was the chance of a lifetime and all he could do was dispute her powers of observation. She’d more than likely turn away and never speak to him again.

He almost didn’t dare to look up again, lest she’d done exactly that, but to his relief, she laughed again—that beautiful, full-throated sound.

“Oh, yes you do and I have a number of witnesses to prove it. What’s more, given that you were asleep while it was happening, the odds aren’t great that you’ll disprove it!”

Charlie watched the exchange in amusement. “She’s got you there, Tom.”

Tom grimaced, but tempered it with a rueful grin. “Thanks for your support, mate.”

“Anytime.” He held his arms out wide. “What are friends for?”

Tom chuckled and then wished he hadn’t. Already the effects of his overindulgence were making themselves felt in his belly and in his head. As much as he now wanted to stay, if he wanted to leave the angel with even a modicum of a good impression, he best make his departure now. It was only going to get ugly from this point on.

He turned back to her and did his best to keep her in focus. “Lily, it was lovely to meet you.”

She smiled. “You already told me that.”

“And I’m telling you again. Surely, there’s no harm in that?”

“You’re right. There’s no harm in it at all. It was lovely to meet you, too, Tom Munro.”

“Christ, you’re beautiful. Will you give me your number?” he blurted out and then groaned inwardly at his lack of finesse.

“I don’t think so, Tom, but it was nice of you to ask.”

Tom stared beseechingly at her for a moment longer and then sighed. “You’re right. It was nice. I guess I’d better get going. All of a sudden, I don’t feel so well. In fact, I think I’m going to—” He bolted in the direction of Charlie’s bathroom and only just made it there in time.

CHAPTER FOUR

Roseville, Sydney—present day

Brady Sutton flipped over onto his side for the hundredth time and tried to get comfortable on his bed. He’d been interviewed by the police in the presence of his mom and the lawyer she’d arranged and after several hours had been charged with attempted murder. He’d been fingerprinted, photographed and taken before the judge where he’d been granted conditional bail. He’d then been allowed to return home with his mom until the next court appearance.

Lawyer; charges; judge; bail.
The unfamiliar words crashed around inside his brain and he shook his head at the enormity of what had happened. It was never that way when he went hunting on
GTA V
.

He thought of Mrs Munro and bit down hard on a cry of pain. How had it gone so wrong? She’d wrestled with the gun right at the moment he’d pulled the trigger. It wasn’t supposed to happen that way. It was Ian Little who should be dead, not Mrs Munro.

Not that she was dead—yet. The police were quick to inform him with their hard, narrow-eyed stares that if her condition deteriorated and she died, his charges would be upgraded to murder.

Murder.
The very word was incomprehensible. He wasn’t a murderer. All he’d wanted to do was to even the playing field; set the record straight; stand up for himself, like his mom was always encouraging him to do; rid himself once and for all of the agony and torture at the hands of the school yard bullies.

But it hadn’t turned out that way and now his life was over. Ian and his buddies would go on their merry way, teasing and tormenting. His mom looked like she’d aged a decade. She could barely bring herself to look at him. She kept blaming his father over and over again. Brady couldn’t bear the thought of what she’d say to his dad.

It wasn’t his father’s fault. Okay, he’d given Brady the gun to look after, but he’d never encouraged him to use it. He’d never even shown him how to load it. He’d given him
GTA V
, but the game hadn’t caused Brady any grief. It was Ian who shouldered the responsibility for working him up to such an extent that fatal violence seemed to be the only solution.

But it was Brady, not Ian, who was now in big trouble. Until today, he’d never been inside the belly of a police station. Even when his mom had woken him in the middle of the night to file a police report against his father, he’d been left in the care of another officer out in the reception area.

The interview rooms were located way in the back, not far from the steel barred cells. Brady had been marched right past them when they’d entered the station from the rear through an access not open to the public. It was probably built that way on purpose, to put fear into the baddies. It had certainly worked on him.

After being handcuffed and dragged out of the school grounds, he’d been tossed into the back of a police wagon. His mother had protested on a loud cry, but the officers had paid her little heed. He’d been taken to the station by the same two officers who had arrested him. They hadn’t seemed to mind that he was thrown from side to side when they took the corners too fast.

His mom had been forced to wait out front until they went and got her. Brady had been given plenty of time to contemplate the state of his life. He’d barely been able to hold back the tears when his mom had finally been allowed to join him.

After one of the arresting officers had explained what was going to happen, his mom had been given a chance to call a lawyer. Brady didn’t even know she knew a lawyer, but nearly an hour later, a man a little older than his father, wearing a dark pinstripe suit turned up at the station and introduced himself.

The rest of the interview had passed in a blur. He could remember his lawyer cautioning him against answering many of their questions, but Brady had nothing to hide. He’d gone to school with the intention of eradicating a vermin from society, or at least a vermin from the school yard. Assholes like Ian Little had no place in this world, no right to be a part of it.

The fact that Mrs Munro had gotten injured was nothing more than an accident. Surely, they would see that? But despite his pleas that he hadn’t meant to hurt her, the police went ahead and charged him.

His mother had burst into tears.

* * *

A doctor appeared in the corridor that led to the operating theaters and headed toward the group of people gathered in the waiting room. Tom was the first to spot him and leaped to his feet, his heart taking off at a gallop. He prayed the news was good.

The fatigue etched into the doctor’s face spoke volumes. Night had fallen. He’d been in the theater all day.

“I’m looking for the family of Lily Munro. Are you her relatives?” the doctor asked in a weary voice.

Tom stepped forward and wiped his palms on his police overalls. “I’m Tom Munro, Lily’s husband,” he said and offered the doctor his hand.

“Tom, I’m Matthew Reeves, one of the surgeons here. My team and I operated on your wife.”

Tom could barely breathe past the lump that had lodged itself in his throat, but he forced himself to voice the question.

“H-how is she?” The doctor sighed and Tom’s pulse leaped into a higher gear.

“Please, doctor, tell me. Is she…is she alive?”

The doctor nodded and Tom breathed out on a heavy sigh of relief. It was short lived. A moment later, Doctor Reeves spoke again.

“Yes, she’s still alive, but I’m afraid she’s in bad shape. The bullet passed through her abdomen and exited out through her lower back. While it missed all of the major arteries, it caused a lot of internal damage. We’ve repaired a tear in her spleen and two in her liver. The lining of her stomach was also torn. Part of her large intestine was damaged beyond repair. Three ribs were also fractured, but that’s the least of our concerns.” He paused and then continued.