The Predator (24 page)

A firm, warm hand on her back sought to give her comfort. She peered up through the haze of tears and saw the triage nurse looking back at her, compassion and understanding in her clear blue eyes.

“He’ll be all right, Mrs Munro. Professor Shepherd is the best there is. You were lucky he was on call.”

Alex sniffed and tried to get control of her emotions.

“Don’t be afraid to cry, if it makes you feel better. You aren’t the first and you certainly won’t be the last.”

The nurse offered a gentle smile and Alex tried to give it back to her.

“There, that’s it. Your little boy will be fine. You’ll see. He’ll be back bouncing around the house in no time.”

Alex shook her head. “You don’t know that.”

The young nurse squatted until she was eye level with Alex and winked. “I think I do.”

Even though Alex knew the woman couldn’t possibly know anything for certain, her confidence was contagious and boosted Alex’s spirits, if only for a little while.

“Thank you. You’re very kind,” she whispered, hardly recognizing the scratchy croak that came out of her throat.

The nurse shrugged and smiled. “It comes with the job.”

Alex gave her a shaky smile and reached for her phone. She needed to call her mother.

* * *

Alex wasn’t sure how long she sat in the Emergency Department, her mother by her side, but it seemed like a lifetime before an older man with wide, white side burns and dressed in surgical scrubs materialized in front of her.

She struggled to sit up and orientate herself, her heart once again back in her throat.

“Mrs Munro?” The fatigue in his eyes told her it hadn’t been an easy surgery.

“Yes. I’m…Mrs Munro.”

“I’m Professor Shepherd. I’ve just come from the operating theater. I operated on your son.”

“How is he, Doctor?” She grasped his arm with both hands. “Please, is he all right? Please, tell me.”

Professor Shepherd knelt down on one knee, bringing himself to her eye level.

“The operation went well. He’s a very lucky little boy. We were able to transfuse him with the blood your husband provided and we’ve obtained a back-up supply from the Prince of Wales Hospital, just up the hill. We’ve managed to stem the bleeding and right now, he’s holding his own. He’ll be in Intensive Care for at least the next twenty-four hours so we can monitor him. Once he stabilizes, we’ll transfer him to a ward.”

“When can I see him?”

“I’ll send someone down to get you very shortly. Unfortunately, you’ll need to keep your visit brief and limit it to one visitor at a time. I understand your husband’s waiting to see him, too.”

At the mention of Brandon, Alex’s stomach tightened and renewed nerves flooded her throat. She refused to look at her mother.

“I’m… I’m not exactly sure where he is. I haven’t seen him since…” Her words petered off. The doctor nodded understandingly and patted her hand.

“Dr Davis told me. I’m sure you’ll work things out. For now, what’s important is that you both pull together for the sake of your son. He needs your support right now. He’s come through the surgery, but he’s not out of the woods yet—not by a long shot.”

Fear settled viscous and oppressive in her stomach. “When…? When will you know…?”

The professor stood, his expression guarded. “Let’s see how he goes over the next twenty-four hours. If his vital signs are good and he continues to hold his own, I think we’ll all be breathing a little easier.”

Alex let out her breath on a heavy sigh. “Thank you, Doctor. I really appreciate everything you’ve done.”

He offered her a brief smile. “No problem. Glad I could help.” With that, he gave her a wave and departed through the doorway from which he’d entered.

Alex took a deep breath and turned to look at her mother. She gasped at the tears in the older woman’s eyes. Her chest tightened with emotion and she fell into her mother’s arms.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry. You were right. I should have told him. I should have told him he was Sam’s father.”

Her mother stroked her back and murmured whispered words of comfort against her hair. Alex was reminded of times when she was young and her mother soothed away her hurts with a cuddle and a few reassurances.

“Tell me what happened, Alex.”

With her face buried against her mother’s shoulder, Alex haltingly told her about Brandon and how he still loved her and how he’d discovered he had a son. Renewed pain wracked Alex’s body and tears flowed down her cheeks.

“He hates me, Mom and it’s all my fault. You were right; I should have told him sooner. I should have—”

“
Shh
, Alex. It’s okay. I’m sure he’ll come around. You said he loves you. Give him some time. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Love flooded through her for the woman who had always put her daughter’s needs before her own. She clung to the hope that her mother was right. There was nothing else she could do.

The doors to the Emergency Department slid open. Alex lifted her head. Brandon walked in, his face haggard. Their eyes met and held. Alex gasped at the desolation that stared back at her.

She looked away, unable to bear it.

He flicked a glance toward her mother, but focused his attention on Alex. “Any news?” His voice was a hoarse whisper.

She swallowed and nodded. “The doctor was just here. He… He said Sam has come through the surgery, but the next twenty-four hours will be critical. They’re sending someone down soon to get…me.”

Brandon’s lips tightened, but the strain around his eyes eased a little.

“I’d like to see him.”

“Of course. Professor Shepherd said they’ll only let one of us in at a time, but I’m sure you can see him.”

Brandon’s lips twisted. Palpable anger poured off him in waves. “That’s very kind of you.”

Alex flushed and dropped her gaze. His sarcasm hurt, but it was nothing less than she expected or deserved.

“Brandon, I don’t know what else to say. I’m so sorry. You don’t know how sorry I am that you had to find out this way. I never meant for you to find out like this. I was going to—”

He cut her off with a brutal slice of his hand. “Enough. I’ve heard enough. You’re sorry… You never meant… You were going to… Save it for someone who cares.”

Desperation clawed at her insides. “No, please, Brandon. Let me explain. I was so scared you wouldn’t want to keep him. We’d argued about having a baby for so long. But I was going to tell you the night of our birthday. The night you came home on leave from Jakarta. But then—”

She stopped and could tell from the look on his face that he, too, was recalling the night that had ended them.

His face closed and his gaze turned icy. “Don’t you dare make this my fault. This had nothing to do with me. You and you alone chose this path and now you’re going to have to live with the consequences. Right now, I don’t know if I’ll ever want to speak to you again.”

His words pierced deep and she almost cried out from the pain of it. Biting her lip, she concentrated on her breathing, trying to slow down the frantic rhythm of her heart.

“Mr and Mrs Munro?”

A young nurse with a bouncy blond ponytail and a warm smile approached them from the corridor that led into the main part of the hospital.

Alex gave a brief nod. Brandon tensed beside her.

“I’m Sally. I’m one of the nurses looking after Sam in the Intensive Care Unit. He’s settled and comfortable. I’ve come down to take you up to ICU to see him.” Her gaze moved from Alex to Brandon to Martha and back. “I’m not sure if the professor explained, but just for the next few hours, we’re restricting his visitors to one at a time.”

Alex nodded. “That’s fine.”

Sally smiled. “Great. Well, if you’d like to follow me, I’ll take you up to see him.”

Alex stood, aware of Brandon’s heavy gaze. She bent and hugged her mother, taking comfort from Martha’s firm embrace. Refusing to look at her husband, she collected her handbag off the chair next to her and followed the girl across the room, with Brandon close on her heels.

* * *

It was the longest twenty-four hours of Alex’s life. She sat by the bed, holding her son’s hand, so tiny in hers, and prayed that every breath he took would make him that much stronger, would pull him through the ordeal his body had endured.

His left arm was plastered from shoulder to wrist, encasing multiple fractures. Three of his ribs had also been broken and were strapped tightly with thick, white bandages. Another cast encased his left leg from hip to thigh, holding together the compound fracture in his femur. Cuts and scrapes and lacerations marred the soft skin of his face, but bones would heal, scars would fade. It was the damage to his spleen she fretted most about.

Professor Shepherd had told her there was still a chance the wound would rupture and the bleeding would begin again. All through the night, she sat at his bedside and when they’d asked her to leave, she’d paced the corridor outside, ignoring the concerned glances thrown her way by her mother.

When it was his turn, Brandon had gone in without a word or even a glance in her direction. Her heart ached at the sight of his cold, closed face, but she didn’t have a clue how to go about fixing it. Besides, she had to devote every ounce of her energy to Sam. Brandon would have to wait.

The morning found her weary and gritty-eyed, but her concern for Sam didn’t lessen until Professor Shepherd found her outside the door to the ICU and assured her the worst was over.

“He’s a little fighter, that’s for sure,” the doctor said.

“You mean…? You mean he’s going to be okay?”

“He’s got a long way to go, but yes, I think he’s going to pull through. We’ll keep him in here another day or so, but if he continues to improve, we’ll move him to another ward.”

Relief flooded through her. “Oh, thank God! Thank you, Doctor. Thank you.” She turned to her mother who had stayed with her throughout the long difficult night.

A smile lifted the corners of the doctor’s lips. “That’s okay. That’s what we’re here for. Why don’t you go and say hello to him. He’s just woken up.”

Later, she’d feel ashamed that she hadn’t once asked about the other three children. She’d feel even worse when she discovered one of them hadn’t made it.

But none of that mattered when she walked up to Sam’s bed and found him looking around in confusion at the tubes and machines and monitors that dominated the small space. His face lit up when he saw her.

“Mommy! Where have you been? Where am I? What happened? It hurts so much.”

She blinked away tears of joy and leaned over to hug him. “It’s okay, Sam. Mommy’s here. Oh, sweetheart, I love you so much. You had me so scared, Sam, but the doctor says you’re going to be fine.”

“It hurts, Mommy.”

“I know, sweetheart. I know. But, it’s going to get better. You’ll see.”

He frowned down at the casts. “What’s that thing on my arm? There’s one on my leg, too.”

“They’re plasters,” she explained, keeping her voice calm. “You broke a bone in your wrist and two near your elbow and another one above your knee. The plaster helps keep them straight and still, so they can get better.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “Will I need crunches?”

Alex laughed and her heart lightened. “Yes, sweetheart. You are going to need crutches.”

“Was I brave, Mom? When they put the plasters on?”

Alex squeezed his hand. “Yes, honey. You were very brave.”

“I wish I saw it. Did you see it, Mom?”

“No, sweetheart. I didn’t see it, either. The doctor put the plaster on you while you were in the operating theater.”

His eyes opened wider. “Did I go in the operating theater?”

“Yes, honey. You did.”

“Why?” he asked, his brow furrowed in thought.

“Because you had a problem with your tummy. The doctor had to fix it.”

“Is that why my tummy’s sore?”

“Yes, sweetheart. It will be sore for a little while yet, but you’re going to be okay, darling. You’re going to be okay.”

“Can I have a drink, Mommy? I’m really thirsty.”

Relief and joy surged through her. “I’ll have to ask the nurses first, to make sure it’s okay, but I’m sure they’ll say it’s all right.”

While his nurse went in search of a drink, Alex stepped outside the ICU and brought her mother up to speed.

“He’s going to be okay, Mom. It looks like he’s going to be okay.” The relief of it weakened her legs. She half fell into her mother’s arms. Martha hugged her close, the two of them crying and smiling through their tears.

“Can I go in and see him?” Martha asked, pulling slightly away.

“Yes, of course. Go right ahead. I’ll wait out here.”

Once the door to the ICU closed behind her mother, Alex pulled out her phone. With shaking fingers, she dialed Brandon’s number. She hadn’t seen him since the day before. After the brief visit with Sam, he’d left without a word. She listened as the phone rang out. Eventually, it diverted to voice mail.

Drawing in a deep breath, she cleared her throat. “Um… Hello, Brandon. It’s me. I-I thought you might like to know Sam’s awake and he’s going to be okay. The doctor said he’s—he’s going to be okay.” She gulped and ended the call, swallowing back fresh tears. The stress of the past twenty-four hours had taken its toll. She was exhausted.

A few moments later, Martha exited the ward. Alex straightened from where she’d slumped against the wall.

“How is he?” she asked.

“He’s fine. He’s great. Full of questions and wondering when he can come home.”

Alex breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ll go back in and see him.”

Martha’s face sobered. “Have you called Brandon?” she asked quietly.

Alex compressed her lips and nodded. “I left a message for him a few moments ago. I told him Sam’s awake and he’s going to pull through.” She shrugged. I guess it’s up to him whether he wants to come and visit his son.”

Martha stepped closer and gave her another quick hug. “There’s nothing else you can do, sweetheart. The rest is up to him.”

Pain tightened a steel band across Alex’s chest and made it difficult to breathe. “What if he doesn’t, Mom? What if he never forgives me?”

“Give him time, Alex. He’ll come around. He loves you.”