The Foiled Plan (War of Sins Book 2)

Rafaelo

The wind is knocked out of me as the doctor lists her injuries.

'Can I...' I swallow hard, a huge fucking lump forming in my throat. 'Can I take a look at her medical file?'

'I'm not sure,' he frowns, but a little more coaxing and I find myself in a secluded corner reading through her medical file while the doctor performs the ultrasound.

And what I read has the power to lay me on my ass.

Second and third degree burns on her back.

Fractured ulna.

Fractured tibia.

Hairline fracture on her right hip.

Concussion and swelling of the temporal lobe.

I take a deep breath as I realize why she would have memory issues. Because someone fucking bashed her head so hard they had to add pieces of metal to keep her skull together.

And then there's the worst...

Crushed larynx.

I'm getting sick to my stomach the more I read through the notes, especially when I get to the other observations.

Poorly healed ribs, fractures and other broken bones.

All speaking of ongoing and repeated abuse.

Then there are the internal injuries. They'd had to do an emergency surgery to remove the retained placenta and they'd also ended up performing a splenectomy because her spleen was about to burst.

The more I read, the more I wish to God the earth would open up and swallow me whole. Because as it stands... I don't think I can ever forgive myself for the way I've treated her

As I swipe to the next page, it's to see up close pictures of her battered body and the many injuries she'd sustained.

She looks almost dead, every inch of her a combination of blue and purple. And to think I contributed to that... That those are my handprints on her lovely throat...

I close the file, a low tremor going through my body as disgust at myself fills me to the brim.

I've always thought myself a strong person considering what I went through and how I overcame my condition. After all, I went through hell and I came back. And though I suffered horrors during my time in captivity, never once did I shed a tear.

Not like now.

My eyes are misty and I feel a tear roll down my cheek, the thought of Noelle hurt and in pain proving to be my undoing.

I take a moment to center myself, trying to pull myself together and be there for her now. Because I may not be able to alter the past—including the fucked up way I treated her—but I can alter the present.

My breathing grows labored as my mind doesn't want to obey me, visions of her slight body so damaged and battered killing me. More than anything, there's a deep anguish at knowing what she's been through and the trauma that no one bothered to acknowledge.

Is this how her own family treated her? How could they?

How the fuck could they?

Surely Cisco must have seen her file. How could he knowingly treat her like that when she's suffered what grown men would balk at?

She's so frail...so fucking small. How could she have withstood everything?

How?

Then there's also the other question. What about her baby?