CHAPTER 3 #2
Before Dario could say anything else, the door to the room beside me opened, and instantly I could hear Cara sobbing loudly. I shot to my feet and barged past the female doctor who was just exiting, not caring if I knocked her over in my race to get to Cara.
“Lass? I’m here. I’m here now,” I gasped as I raced to the side of the bed Cara lay in. She was turned on her side, curled into herself, her face covered by her hands as she shook with the violent and gut wrenching sobs.
I wanted to gather her into my arms and hold her as tight as I could, but I didn’t want to scare her, so instead I crouched down so she could see me, then slowly and gently brushed just the tip of my finger over the back of her hand.
She moved one of her hands and grabbed onto my wrist tightly, pulling my hand closer to her as the crying continued.
She used her shaky finger to draw a ‘C’ on the palm of my hand, then looked to me with so much fear. Her face was blotchy and bruised, her eyes red and puffy.
“He’s okay. They operated on his ankle and fixed him up. He’ll be moved into the room next door soon,” I explained gently, knowing that was what she had needed to know.
Dario was talking to the doctor, who had seen to Cara, outside the open door of the room, but I couldn’t hear what was being said. I just really hoped the doctor wasn’t saying Cara needed surgery, because I really wasn’t sure she was up to it.
“How’s yer pain? Did the doc give ye something to help?” I asked.
She studied me for a moment, then the tears started again.
It killed me not to gather her up and just hold her, but I felt somewhat relieved when she pulled my hand, which she still held at my wrist, closer and hugged it to her chest. As comfort went, it wasn’t much, but at least she was allowing me to give her something.
“We’ll get ye home soon, wee one. I promise. We just need to be sure yer injuries are all taken care of first, and we need to wait for Cal too, okay? Then we can all go home together.”
She seemed to gather herself with a shaky breath in. She swiped some tears from her eyes, then drew a ‘C’ on the bed again, pointing to the door this time.
“He’s still in recovery, but I’ll see if they can bring him in here wi’ ye when they bring him up. How’s that sound?”
Her lip trembled and her face scrunched as she fought not to cry again, but she nodded sadly.
She needed Cal. He made her feel safe. I was pretty sure there was something more than friendship between them.
That didn’t make me feel jealous, despite my own feelings for her.
I just felt relieved that Cal would be able to help her through whatever came next, and take care of her, for the both of us.
She trusted him more than me, and I was alright with that, as long as she trusted someone to get close and be there for her.
In time, she would trust me that much too. I’d make sure of it.
She startled when there was a noise outside the room, and she reached for my shoulder, grabbing a handful of the shirt I wore and gripping it like she dare not let me go.
“I’m no’ leavin’ ye. I’ll stay right here as long as ye want me to,” I promised her as I lay my hand over hers against my shoulder, and fought my own emotions. “Dario’s here now too,” I added when I heard him closing the door quietly behind him.
She lifted her head just enough to see him coming closer, then collapsed down like she was too exhausted to hold herself up.
“Take it easy, Piccola,” Dario cautioned as he hurried closer and leaned in close enough that she could see him. “The doctor said you need to rest.”
She drew an ‘R’ on the bed between us and looked to me, and then to Dario.
“She wants to know where Rafe is,” I told Dario when he looked to me with question.
“She’s not talking?” he asked with concern.
“She will, when she’s ready,” I told him, but I looked to Cara and gave her a reassuring smile, not wanting her to think she had to do a damned thing she didn’t want to right then. “We’re getting’ along just fine wi’out words fer now, aren’t we, darlin’?”
I had a feeling that the fact she hadn’t uttered a word, was linked to the fact she hadn’t made a sound as those bastards had hurt and raped her.
Cal and I had been forced to watch on, and we’d seen the blood, knew the pain she had to have been in, but she remained conscious almost the entire time, and during those torturous minutes she never uttered one single sound.
She never gave those soon to be dead fuckers one iota of pleasure from her pain.
She’d been so strong while Cal and I had fallen apart as we were forced to witness it all.
I had never fought as hard in my life as I had to escape those bindings and get to her.
But it had been for nothing. I couldn’t get free.
I couldn’t save her, and now this silence she was sticking to - I guessed it was her holding onto the only thing she’d been able to control since it all began.
If that were what she needed, we would give it to her, for as long as she needed it.
I’d love her no matter what, even if she never uttered another word.
Cara tapped the bed, like she was trying to get my attention, and when I glanced down she drew the same letter again.
“Rafe?” I looked to Dario for an answer.
“On his way. He’ll be here soon,” Dario assured her.
She nodded, but her face crumpled and she just started to cry even more desperately than she had before, every tear she spilled breaking my heart open even wider.
“I’m so sorry, baby, about everything. We should never have allowed this to happen,” Dario whispered as he placed a hand on her shoulder and left it there, obviously as desperate as I was to comfort her, but also equally as scared of triggering her in any way.
We just waited, allowing her to release some of the pain I knew she needed to get out, both of us just trying to offer the silent support of simply being there, even if doing only that was killing us both.
I don’t know how much longer we could have stayed back and allowed her to go on, had the door not been thrown open, breaking the moment.
Dario and I both jumped up and turned, placing ourselves before Cara.
I reached for my gun, but I didn’t have it.
It had been lost somewhere in the chaos of the night, but Dario had his and he pulled it from the small of his back in a flash, stopping only when we realised it was Rafe who had entered.
He was still wearing his suit pants and jacket, but the white shirt, which had been covered with Gia’s blood when last I saw him, was gone.
Now he just wore his white undershirt beneath his jacket, and it was stained with blood too, but presumably less than had stained his shirt when he cradled the lifeless body of his sister, earlier that night.
He glanced at Dario and I for only a second, then he moved into the room and rounded the bed. He shucked off his jacket and tossed it to the floor before he leaned across the bed and over Cara, bracing his weight on the metal at the head of the frame.
“Tesorino? I’m here now, and I’m going to pick you up. I need to have you in my arms, alright?” he told her, his voice wavering only slightly at the end of his words.
Cara turned to try and see him, wincing at the tiny movement, but as soon as she saw him she reached a hand toward him.
It was all of the permission Rafe needed, and he picked her up carefully, then settled on the bed with her in his lap, clutched in his arms as if he would never allow her to go again, just the way I wanted to be holding her right then too.