26. Cara

Chapter twenty-six

Cara

T he baby kicks, a sharp jab just beneath my ribs that steals my breath. I press a hand to my swollen belly, feeling the life within me - the piece of June I carry always. It's a reminder, visceral and undeniable, of what I'm fighting for.

"Easy, little one," I murmur, my voice rough from lack of sleep. "Mama's working."

The clock on the wall ticks relentlessly, each second an eternity as I pour over the documents spread before me. Financial records, medical reports, whispered rumors committed to paper - the threads of Elaine's web, waiting to be unraveled.

My eyes burn, gritty with exhaustion, but I can't stop. Won't stop. Not when June is out there, alone and in danger. Not when our future hangs by a thread.

A memory surfaces, unbidden. June's hands, warm and callused, skimming over my body. His lips on my neck, breath hot against my skin as he whispers promises of forever. The ghost of his touch sends a shiver down my spine, arousal and anguish tangling in my gut.

I shake my head, forcing the image away. I can't afford distractions, not now. But God, I miss him. Miss his strength, his warmth, the way he makes me feel safe and cherished and utterly, deliciously possessed.

A soft knock at the door jolts me from my thoughts. "Cara?" Judith's voice, muffled but concerned. "You still up?"

"Come in," I call, straightening in my chair and wincing at the ache in my lower back.

Judith enters, her sharp eyes taking in the chaos of papers, the dark circles under my eyes. Her lips thin with worry. "You need to rest," she says, not for the first time. "This isn't good for you or the baby."

I bristle, a snarl rising in my throat. "What isn't good for me or the baby is June being locked up while that bitch Elaine is free to-"

"I know," Judith cuts me off, her tone gentling. "Believe me, I know. But you're no good to June if you run yourself into the ground."

She's right, of course. But the thought of stopping, of closing my eyes and letting my guard down for even a moment... it terrifies me.

Judith must see the conflict on my face because she sighs, moving to stand behind me. Her hands come to rest on my shoulders, kneading the tense muscles. "Just a few hours," she coaxes. "I'll keep watch. Nothing will happen while you sleep, I promise."

I want to argue, but exhaustion weighs heavy on my bones. The baby kicks again, as if agreeing with Judith. "Fine," I relent, allowing her to help me to my feet. "But wake me if anything - and I mean anything - happens."

She nods, relief clear in her eyes. "Of course. Now go, before I change my mind and chain you to the bed myself."

The image that conjures - of being bound and helpless - sends an unexpected jolt of heat through me. I flush, blaming it on pregnancy hormones and lack of sleep.

Judith raises an eyebrow, a knowing smirk playing at her lips. "Interesting reaction," she teases. "Should I be worried about June's competition?"

I swat at her halfheartedly, grateful for the moment of levity. "In your dreams, Deveaux."

Her laughter follows me as I make my way to the bedroom. It's a stark contrast to the somber atmosphere that's permeated the apartment these past weeks, and I cling to it like a lifeline.

Sleep comes easier than expected, but my dreams are far from peaceful. I'm back in that courtroom, watching helplessly as they drag June away. But this time, I fight. I claw and scratch and bite, a feral thing driven by instinct and rage. I feel bones crunch beneath my fists, taste copper on my tongue. And then June is there, his eyes wild and hungry as he watches me tear our enemies apart.

"That's it, baby," he growls, his voice sending shivers down my spine. "Show them what happens when they try to take what's mine."

I wake with a gasp, my heart pounding, my skin slick with sweat. The dream clings to me, vivid and visceral. I can still feel the rush of adrenaline, the savage satisfaction of violence.

It should disturb me, this capacity for brutality. But all I feel is a grim sense of rightness. They took June from me. From us. And I'll do whatever it takes to get him back.

A glance at the clock tells me I've slept for nearly six hours. Guilt and anxiety war in my chest as I heave myself out of bed. What if something's happened? What if-

My spiraling thoughts are cut short by the sound of raised voices from the living room. I freeze, straining to hear. It's Judith and... Dante? What's he doing here at this hour?

I creep closer, pressed against the wall like some ridiculous spy movie cliche. But I need to know what's going on, need to be prepared for whatever new hell is about to break loose.

"...can't keep her in the dark forever," Dante is saying, his voice low and urgent. "She deserves to know."

"And what good will it do?" Judith hisses back. "You want to add more stress? More worry? She's barely holding it together as it is."

"She's stronger than you give her credit for," Dante argues. "June chose her for a reason."

My breath catches in my throat. They're talking about me. About June. What aren't they telling me?

I've heard enough. Taking a deep breath, I school my features into a mask of calm determination and step into the room.

"What's going on?" I demand, my voice steady despite the fear clawing at my insides. "What aren't you telling me?"

Judith and Dante exchange a look, a silent argument passing between them. Finally, Dante sighs, turning to face me fully.

"We have news," he says carefully. "About June."

My heart leaps into my throat. "Is he- Is he okay? Did something happen?"

"He's alive," Dante assures me quickly. "But... there's been a complication."

He goes on to explain, each word a dagger to my heart. June, my beautiful, broken June, subjected to more torment at Elaine's hands. Psychological warfare, designed to break his spirit and bend him to her will.

"But that's not the worst of it," Dante continues, his eyes dark with rage. "We've uncovered evidence of a larger conspiracy. Elaine's operation goes deeper than we ever imagined. She's not just manipulating people - she's creating them. Designer babies, bred for specific traits and purposes."

The room spins, nausea rising in my throat. I grip the back of a chair, my knuckles white. "What... what are you saying?"

Judith steps forward, her face a mask of grim determination. "We think that's why she's so obsessed with your baby, Cara. Why she's willing to go to such lengths to control June. She wants your child as the crown jewel of her operation."

A roaring fills my ears, drowning out everything else. My hand flies to my belly, cradling the precious life within. No. No, I won't let her. I'll die before I let that monster anywhere near my baby.

"There's more," Dante says, his voice cutting through the fog of my panic. "We've made contact with someone on the inside. A nurse named Sarah. She's been feeding us information, and what she's found... it's worse than we could have imagined."

He pulls out a file, spreading photos across the table. Women in various stages of pregnancy, strapped to beds, hooked up to machines. Clinical notes detailing genetic modifications, behavioral conditioning techniques.

And there, in the center of it all, a face I never thought I'd see again.

"Amethyst," I breathe, my fingers tracing the grainy image. She looks small, vulnerable, her eyes wide with fear and confusion. Nothing like the polished, confident woman I remember.

"She's pregnant," Judith says softly. "But the baby... it's not hers. Not really. They're using her as an incubator for one of their 'projects'."

Bile rises in my throat. I barely make it to the sink before I'm retching, my body rebelling against the horror of it all.

As I rinse my mouth, a cold, hard certainty settles over me. This ends now. Whatever it takes, whatever price I have to pay, I'm going to burn Elaine's entire fucking empire to the ground.

I turn back to Judith and Dante, my eyes blazing with a fury I've never felt before. "Tell me everything," I demand. "Every detail, every scrap of information. And then we're going to plan. Because I'm done playing defense. It's time to take the fight to Elaine."

They share a look - pride? concern? - before nodding in unison.

"Alright," Dante says, a predatory grin spreading across his face. "Let's get to work."

The next few hours are a whirlwind of information and strategy. We pour over Sarah's intel, piecing together the scope of Elaine's operation. It's vast, tentacles reaching into every level of society. Politicians, judges, business leaders - all dancing to Elaine's tune.

But every empire has its weak points. And we're going to find them all.

As dawn breaks, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold, we have the beginnings of a plan. It's risky, bordering on suicidal. But it's our best shot at bringing Elaine down and getting June back.

I stand at the window, one hand resting on my swollen belly, watching the city come to life below. Somewhere out there, June is fighting his own battles. Holding on, staying strong, waiting for me to come for him.

"Hold on, baby," I whisper, my voice thick with unshed tears. "I'm coming. We're coming. And nothing in this world is going to stop us."

I feel a presence behind me, the heat of a body not quite touching mine. Dante, his voice low and intense. "We'll get him back, Cara. Whatever it takes."

I turn to face him, searching his eyes for any hint of doubt or deception. But all I see is a fierce determination that matches my own.

"Whatever it takes," I echo, sealing the vow between us.

He nods, a flash of something - approval? respect? - crossing his face. "Get some rest," he says, already turning to leave. "We move at nightfall."

As the door closes behind him, I let out a shaky breath. This is it. The point of no return. After tonight, nothing will ever be the same.

I crawl back into bed, my body aching for sleep even as my mind races. But as I close my eyes, I don't see the horrors we've uncovered or the dangers that lie ahead.

I see June. His smile, warm and bright. His eyes, full of love and promise. His hands, strong and sure as they caress my skin.

"I'm coming for you," I whisper into the emptiness of our bed. "Hold on, my love. Just a little longer."

And as sleep finally claims me, I swear I can almost hear his voice, a whisper on the wind.

"I'm waiting, Cara. Always waiting for you."

A sharp knock jolts me from my fitful sleep. I bolt upright, heart racing, one hand instinctively cradling my belly.

"Cara?" Song's voice, urgent and muffled through the door. "You in there?"

I scramble out of bed, nearly tripping over my own feet in my haste. When I wrench the door open, I'm met with the worried faces of my siblings. Song's usually cheerful expression is drawn tight with concern, while Sonya's eyes are red-rimmed, as if she's been crying.

"What happened?" I demand, fear clawing at my throat. "Is it June?"

Song and Sonya exchange a loaded glance before Sonya speaks, her voice gentle. "We've been trying to find out where they're holding him, Cara. But it's like he's vanished. No one will tell us anything."

The room spins, and I grip the doorframe to steady myself. "What do you mean, vanished? He can't just-"

"Easy, sis," Song says, reaching out to support me. "Let's sit down, okay? We've got some news, but you need to stay calm. For the baby."

I want to scream, to rage against the patronizing tone, the implication that I'm some delicate flower who can't handle the truth. But the genuine concern in their eyes stops me. Instead, I let them guide me to the couch, sinking into the cushions with a weary sigh.

"Tell me," I say, steeling myself for the worst.

Sonya takes my hand, her grip almost painfully tight. "We finally got some information from a contact in the DA's office. June's being moved in three days. To a psych ward at a prison three counties away."

The words hit me like a physical blow. A psych ward. They're going to lock him up, drug him into compliance, strip away everything that makes him June.

"No," I whisper, shaking my head in denial. "No, they can't. We won't let them."

"Cara," Song starts, his voice hesitant. "Maybe... maybe it's for the best. After everything he's been through, he might need-"

"Don't," I snarl, yanking my hand from Sonya's grasp. "Don't you dare suggest that June belongs in there. You have no idea what he's capable of, how strong he is."

"We're just worried about you," Sonya says, reaching for me again. "Both of you. This stress can't be good for the baby, and if June's not in his right mind-"

"He is," I insist, my voice rising. "He's fighting. For me, for our child. And I'm not going to abandon him now."

I struggle to my feet, ignoring the concerned looks from my siblings. "We have three days," I say, my mind already racing with plans. "Three days to get him out before they bury him so deep we'll never find him again."

"Cara, be reasonable," Song pleads. "You're in no condition to-"

"To what?" I snap, rounding on him. "To fight for the man I love? To protect my family? Watch me."

I stalk to the bedroom, yanking open drawers and pulling out clothes. "I need you to call Dante," I tell Sonya over my shoulder. "Tell him plans have changed. We're moving now."

"Moving? Cara, what are you talking about?" Sonya asks, bewilderment clear in her voice.

I emerge from the bedroom, now dressed in dark, practical clothing. "We're getting June out. Tonight."

The acrid tang of gunmetal fills my nostrils as I tuck the weapon into my waistband. It's cold against my skin, a clear difference from the woman I used to be. The Cara of a year ago would've recoiled at the thought of holding a gun, let alone using one. But that Cara didn't know what it meant to have everything she loved threatened.

"Jesus, Cara," Song breathes, his eyes wide with shock. "What the hell are you doing?"

I meet his gaze, unflinching. "What I have to," I reply, my voice steadier than I feel. "Now, are you with me or not?"

The weight of the gun, the baby kicking insistently against my ribs, the fear and determination warring in my siblings' eyes - it all coalesces into a moment of crystal clarity. This is who I am now. A woman willing to cross any line, break any law, to protect what's hers.

Sonya and Song share one of those silent conversations only siblings can have. I watch the play of emotions across their faces - concern, fear, resignation, and finally, resolve. Sonya turns to me, her jaw set in a way that reminds me painfully of our father.

"We're with you," she says, her voice tight. "Always. But Cara... promise me you won't do anything reckless. That baby needs you in one piece."

A lump forms in my throat, unexpected emotion threatening to choke me. Despite everything, despite the madness I'm dragging them into, they're still here. Still my rock, my anchor in the storm.

"I promise," I say, meaning it with every fiber of my being. "I'm not looking for a fight. But I will do whatever it takes to bring June home."

As if on cue, the baby gives a strong kick. I press a hand to my swollen belly, a fierce smile curving my lips. "That's right, little one," I murmur. "We're going to get Daddy back."

The familiar ache of missing June threatens to overwhelm me. I close my eyes for a moment, letting myself remember. The warmth of his skin against mine. The rumble of his laugh vibrating through his chest. The way his eyes would darken with desire, turning molten as he...

I shake my head, forcing the memories away. Now isn't the time for sentiment or distraction. Now is the time for action.

"Let's go," I say, my voice ringing with a confidence I don't entirely feel. "It's time to show Elaine what happens when you mess with our family."

As we leave the apartment, a strange calm settles over me. The hallway that once seemed so ordinary now feels like a gateway to another world. A world where I'm not just Cara the artist, the expectant mother. A world where I'm something... more.

"So what's the plan, sis?" Song asks as we pile into his car. The leather seats stick to my skin, the summer heat turning the vehicle into an oven. "Please tell me you have one beyond 'storm the castle.'"

I roll my eyes, but there's no real heat in it. "Of course I have a plan. First, we need to get in touch with Dante. He has resources we're going to need."

Sonya's already pulling out her phone. "On it. What else?"

As I outline the basics of what we need to do, I can feel them watching me. There's a new wariness in their eyes, a realization that the sister they've known all their lives has changed irrevocably. Part of me wants to reassure them, to promise that I'm still me. But the larger part knows it would be a lie.

The truth is, I don't know who I am anymore. All I know is that I'll do whatever it takes to get June back. To keep our child safe. And if that means becoming someone my siblings barely recognize... so be it.

The city blurs past the windows as Song navigates the early morning traffic. Every street corner, every familiar landmark, seems charged with new significance. This could be the last time I see these places as a free woman. The thought should terrify me, but all I feel is a grim sort of acceptance.

"Cara," Sonya says softly, interrupting my dark musings. "Are you sure about this? I mean, really sure? Because once we do this... there's no going back."

I turn to her, taking in the worry etched on her face. For a moment, I see us as we were - two little girls playing at being grown-ups, dreaming of the lives we'd lead. How far we've come from those innocent days.

"I'm sure," I say, my voice low but firm. "This isn't just about June anymore. It's about our baby. About all the other women and children Elaine has hurt. Someone has to stop her, Sonya. And if not us, then who?"

She holds my gaze for a long moment before nodding. "Okay. Then let's do this."

As we pull up to the address Dante provided, my heart begins to race. This is it. The point of no return. I take a deep breath, one hand resting on my belly, the other brushing against the gun at my waist.

"Ready?" I ask, looking at my siblings.

They nod, faces set with determination that mirrors my own.

"Then let's go get my man," I say, pushing open the car door.

The summer air hits me like a wall, thick with humidity and the promise of rain. As we approach the nondescript warehouse, I feel a shift in the atmosphere. The quiet street suddenly feels charged, alive with possibility and danger.

I think of June, alone in some cold cell, fighting battles I can only imagine. I think of our child, growing stronger every day, oblivious to the war being waged for their future. I think of Elaine, sitting in her ivory tower, believing herself untouchable.

A slow, predatory smile spreads across my face. Oh, how wrong she is.