Page 14 of Enigma: The Final Chapter
After farewelling Hugo with a kiss on his cheek, I exit the room huddled in the crook of Isaac’s shoulder, grateful Hugo wasn’t more injured than he is but hating that he was injured at all while protecting me.
“It’s his job, Isabelle, so don’t carry an unnecessary burden on your shoulders.” Isaac’s mutter is only audible to me. “Hugo wouldn’t blame you for being shot any more than you’d blame him for being kidnapped.”
I pop my head off his chest to peer at him. “It wasn’t Hugo’s fault they took me.”That was my own stupidity.
“Exactly.” Isaac glances into my eyes. “Just like Hugo being shot isn’t your fault. Some circumstances in life are beyond our control.”
Yes, they are. Like the death of Ophelia was beyond his control. Only now do I realize everything I said to Hugo about only getting half a man was an extremely inaccurate assessment. A man with an aura like Isaac’s could never be half a man. Even if I only got five percent of him, I'd still be getting more of a man than any of the previous men I’ve dated.
Chapter 6
Isaac
Ijerk up my chin in thanks to Raquel when Isabelle and I stroll past the nurses’ station located outside of Hugo’s room. Raquel isn’t a registered nurse. She's a qualified trauma surgeon—nearly. She's in her final year of medical school and works as a waitress at Kiki’s to pay for her tuition. By agreeing to be Hugo’s nurse until he recovers, she’ll have her outstanding student fees paid in full.
She was given this opportunity years ago, but just like me, she has difficulties accepting assistance when required. Jae was apprehensive about allowing a non-qualified nurse into her unit until Hunter supplied her with the last two years of Raquel’s transcripts. She was grateful to accept Raquel on her team with the hope she’ll consider becoming a full-time trauma surgeon at Ravenshoe Private Hospital once she's qualified.
Raquel returns my greeting with a playful pucker of her lips. I snicker and shake my head. Raquel is beautiful, and just like her big sister, Regan, she knows it.
Isabelle stifles a yawn before burrowing her head in deeper to my chest. I increase my strides, wanting to get her back to her hospital room so Jae can complete a final set of observations and hopefully permit me to take her home. My efficient steps falter when Isabelle tightens her grip around my waist. I stop walking to glance down at her. Her breathing is quick, propelling her chest up and down, and her eyes are wide as she peers at something down the hall.
Following her gaze, my blood thickens, my knuckles popping when I clench my fists. Isabelle’s kidnapper is being ushered down the corridor by a nurse and four plain-clothed officers. The shackles encasing his ankles hitting the tiled floor, bellow over the paging of nurses and doctors.
When his eyes float up from the ground, they lock with Isabelle, his head tilting to take her all in. Fury courses through my veins when he has the audacity to smile at her. Blinded by rage, I charge at him. My stealth movements catch the plain-clothed officers by surprise, freeing me to unleash a lethal left and right combination on his unprotected face.
Even being flanked by four officers, I throw him back until his torso slams against the glass window of a hospital suite, then clutch his throat. His pupils widen, and the veins in his neck throb under my firm grasp, but he smirks, seemingly amused by my anger.
The blood surging through my veins shrills in my ears, making it almost impossible to hear the demands of the officers pulling me away from him, but one voice will never be silenced.
“Stop, Isaac, please stop,” yells a distorted voice. “He’s my brother.”
Flashbacks of the night I fought CJ Petretti rush to the forefront of my mind. Those were the last words Ophelia spoke to me before she died. All I can see is her beautiful face soaked with tears and her pleas for me to stop beating her brother.
I shake my head, erasing the painful memories clogged there before tightening my grip on Isabelle’s attacker’s neck. This time is different. I'm not hurting this man because I was strong-armed into doing something I didn’t want to do. I'm punishing him for hurting Isabelle. My Isabelle. The one woman I'd do anything to protect.
“Stop, please!” screams through my ears again. This time, from a voice I recognize.
When I shift my eyes to the voice, Isabelle’s tear-stained face glances up at me. “Please, Isaac.” She hiccups through tears. “He’s my brother.”
Haunted by memories of the night Ophelia died, I release my fingers from the stranger’s neck before taking a step back. He bends in half before gasping in some big breaths. When he regains his breath, he glares at me. My brows furrow. I’m not frightened by his stare. I’m confused as to why I’m staring into a pair of eyes I’ve seen many times before. There's no mistaking those eyes. They’re identical to Isabelle’s in every way.
I scan his face as my disordered brain tries to compile some sort of normality in this bizarre situation. He has the same plump, cupid-bow lips, same nose, although his is more prominent than Isabelle’s, same hair coloring, and even the same skin tone.
I take another step back. How the hell did I miss this? He isn’tjusta half-sibling of Isabelle’s, he’s her full-blooded brother.
Isabelle drops to her knees before placing her juddering hands onto the sides of his swollen, bloodstained cheeks to hoist his downcast face up. Her lips quiver as fresh tears spill from her eyes unchecked. “I’m sorry, Enrique. I’m so sorry,” she apologizes. “I was only a child. If I were older, I’d have begged for Tobias to take you, too. I would’ve never left you behind, but I was only a child, Enrique. I didn’t know any better. Please forgive me.Please.”
Logically, I understand Isabelle harbors guilt for leaving him behind, but she said it herself—she was only a child. She was only six when she was sold, so she can’t be held accountable for the actions of the adults who surrounded her. The burden of culpability doesn’t belong on her shoulders, and if Enrique doesn’t realize that, he doesn’t deserve the apologies trickling from Isabelle’s lips.
No longer able to watch her plead for forgiveness from a man who mere hours ago drugged and kidnapped her in broad daylight, I pull Isabelle away from Enrique. When my arms curl around her waist, she stiffens until she realizes who is grabbing her.
A painful whimper escapes her lips as she burrows her head into my neck, her tears dampening my shirt. “I’ve got you, Isabelle.”
I stride down the corridor, ignoring the frightened glances of the police officers and hospital staff. My stern glare is impressive enough they won’t dare stop me.
“I’ve got you, baby,” I repeat.And I’m never going to let you go.
An hour later, we're sitting in Isabelle’s private suite in Ravenshoe Private Hospital. The only time Isabelle wasn’t cradled in my arms was when Jae finalized a set of observations on her. The instant Jae left the room, I gathered Isabelle back into my torso.
