33. Cara

Chapter thirty-three

Cara

T he moonlight slicing through the curtains paints silver stripes across my swollen belly. I trace the stretched skin, marveling at the life growing inside me - June's child, our miracle. A soft kick flutters beneath my palm, and for a moment, the ache in my chest eases.

But the emptiness of the bed beside me is a gaping wound, bleeding loneliness into the quiet night. I close my eyes, willing sleep to come, but all I see is June's face - haunted, desperate, beautiful in its brokenness. The memory of his touch burns like a brand on my skin, a bittersweet reminder of what I can't have.

A whisper of movement outside my window has me bolting upright, heart thundering against my ribs. Fear and hope war in my chest as a shadow detaches itself from the darkness.

June.

He slips inside like smoke, all lean muscle and coiled tension. The moonlight catches on the planes of his face, throwing the new hollows in his cheeks into sharp relief. My breath hitches at the sight of him - my warrior, my protector, looking more like the hunted than the hunter.

"Cara." My name falls from his lips like a prayer, reverent and raw.

I'm moving before I can think, struggling to untangle myself from the sheets. June is there in an instant, strong hands steadying me as I wobble to my feet. The brush of his skin against mine sends electricity arcing through my body, and I have to bite back a moan.

"You shouldn't be here," I whisper, even as I lean into him, drinking in his warmth, his scent. "It's not safe."

A low growl rumbles in his chest. "Nowhere's safe without you."

His lips crash into mine, desperate and demanding. I open to him instantly, letting him devour me, matching his hunger with my own. We're a tangle of hands and mouths, tearing at clothes, needing to be skin to skin.

June breaks the kiss, trailing fire down my neck as he pushes me back onto the bed. "Fuck, I've missed you," he rasps against my throat. "Missed this. Missed us."

"Show me," I breathe, arching into him. "Make me feel it, June."

He does.

With reverent hands and a wicked mouth, June maps every inch of my changed body. He lavishes attention on my swollen breasts, teasing and tormenting until I'm a writhing mess beneath him. His stubble scrapes deliciously against my inner thighs as he moves lower, and I have to stifle a cry when his tongue finally finds my aching center.

"That's it, baby," he murmurs against my slick flesh. "Let me hear you. Let me taste how much you want me."

I fist my hands in his hair, holding him close as he works me over with lips and tongue. The coil of pleasure winds tighter and tighter, until I'm teetering on the edge of oblivion.

"June," I pant, my hips rolling against his mouth. "I'm gonna-"

He redoubles his efforts, sucking hard on my clit as he slips two fingers inside me. The dual sensation is too much, and I shatter with a strangled cry, my body bowing off the bed.

June works me through the aftershocks, gentling his touch as I come down. When he finally pulls away, his chin glistening with my arousal, the look in his eyes nearly sets me off again.

"My turn," I say, reaching for him.

But June catches my wrists, pinning them above my head with one large hand. "Not yet," he growls, his free hand trailing down my body to cup my belly. "Need to be inside you. Need to feel our baby between us."

A fresh wave of desire crashes over me at his words. "Please," I whimper, spreading my legs wider in invitation. "I need you, June. All of you."

He enters me in one smooth thrust, stretching and filling me in the most exquisite way. We both groan at the sensation, our bodies remembering each other like coming home.

"Fuck," June grits out, his forehead pressed to mine. "You feel so good, Cara. So tight, so wet for me."

He starts to move, setting a rhythm that's both achingly tender and desperately fierce. I meet him thrust for thrust, our bodies speaking the language of love and longing that words can't capture.

"Mine," June growls, nipping at my collarbone. "Say it, Cara. Tell me you're mine."

"Yours," I gasp, my nails raking down his back. "Always yours, June. Only yours."

His hips snap forward harder, faster, driving me towards the precipice once more. I can feel him swelling inside me, know he's close too.

"Come for me, baby," he demands, his thumb finding my clit. "One more time. Wanna feel you come on my cock."

The added stimulation is all it takes. I fly apart with a keening wail, my inner muscles clamping down on him like a vise. June follows a heartbeat later, burying himself to the hilt as he empties himself inside me with a guttural groan.

We lie tangled together in the aftermath, our ragged breathing the only sound in the quiet room. June's hand splays protectively over my belly, and I feel the baby kick in response.

"He knows his daddy," I murmur, covering June's hand with my own.

June's breath hitches, and when I look up, there are tears glistening in his eyes. "I'm so sorry," he whispers, voice thick with emotion. "I should be here. Should be taking care of you both."

I cup his face, forcing him to meet my gaze. "You are," I say fiercely. "You're fighting for us, June. For our future. That's everything."

He leans into my touch, turning to press a kiss to my palm. "I love you," he says, the words weighted with promise. "Both of you. More than anything in this fucked up world."

"We love you too," I whisper back. "Come home to us, June. Whatever it takes."

We make love again, slower this time, savoring every touch, every kiss, knowing it might be our last. As the first hints of dawn start to creep across the sky, June reluctantly pulls away.

"I have to go," he says, the words heavy with regret.

I nod, swallowing back the sob that threatens to escape. "I know."

June dresses quickly, efficient movements betraying years of practice. At the window, he pauses, looking back at me with an intensity that steals my breath.

"I'm coming back for you," he vows. "For both of you. I swear it on my life."

Then he's gone, melting into the shadows like he was never there at all. I curl around my belly, letting the tears fall freely now.

"Your daddy's coming home," I whisper to our child. "We just have to hold on a little longer."

The days crawl by in an agonizing blur. I go through the motions of living - eating when Natalie reminds me, resting when the doctor orders, smiling and nodding at the right moments during checkups. But inside, I'm hollowed out, a shell of the woman I used to be.

June's clandestine visits are the only thing keeping me sane. They're sporadic, unpredictable, but each one breathes life back into my withered soul. For a few stolen hours, I can pretend that everything's okay, that we're just a normal couple eagerly awaiting the birth of our child.

But reality always comes crashing back, harsher and colder for the brief respite.

I'm lying in bed, one hand resting on my ever-growing bump, when a sharp pain lances through my abdomen. I gasp, curling in on myself as another follows, stronger this time.

"No," I whimper, panic clawing at my throat. "Not yet. Please, not yet."

The door flies open, and Natalie rushes in, her face pale with worry. "Cara? What's wrong?"

"The baby," I manage through gritted teeth. "Something's not right."

What happens next is a blur of activity. An ambulance is called, machines are hooked up, worried voices speak in hushed tones over my head. Through it all, one thought pounds in my mind like a mantra:

June should be here.

We're halfway to the hospital when the world explodes in a shower of glass and screeching metal. The ambulance swerves violently, tossing me against the straps holding me down. Natalie screams, a high, terrified sound that cuts off abruptly.

Then everything goes black.

I wake to the acrid smell of antiseptic and the steady beep of monitors. For a moment, relief washes over me - I'm in a hospital, the baby's okay, everything's fine.

But as my eyes adjust to the dim light, I realize this isn't a normal hospital room. The windows are barred, the door reinforced steel. And the woman sitting calmly in the corner, perfectly manicured nails tapping against the arm of her chair, is the stuff of my nightmares.

Elaine Deveaux.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, my dear," she says, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "I was beginning to worry."

Ice floods my veins. I try to sit up, but my limbs are leaden, uncooperative. "What did you do to me?" I slur, my tongue thick in my mouth.

Elaine's smile is razor-sharp. "Just a mild sedative, darling. Can't have you hurting yourself or my grandchild, now can we?"

Grandchild. The word hits me like a physical blow, and my hands fly to my stomach. The familiar swell is still there, and I let out a shaky breath.

"What do you want?" I demand, hating how weak my voice sounds.

Elaine rises, moving to stand at the foot of my bed. "What every grandmother wants," she says, her eyes gleaming with a fanatical light. "A legacy. A future. And you, my dear, are carrying that future inside you."

I curl protectively around my bump, glaring at her with all the hatred I can muster. "You'll never touch this baby," I spit. "June will-"

"June?" Elaine laughs, the sound like breaking glass. "Oh, you poor, deluded girl. June isn't coming for you. He's a bit... preoccupied at the moment."

Fear claws at my throat. "What did you do to him?"

Elaine's smile widens, showing too many teeth. "Let's just say he's learning the consequences of defying his mother. But don't worry, I'm sure he'll come around eventually. And when he does, the three of us will be one big, happy family."

I lunge for her, pregnancy and drugs be damned, but my body betrays me. I barely make it off the bed before my knees buckle, sending me crashing to the floor.

Elaine tuts, shaking her head. "Now, now. That's no way for a lady to behave." She presses a button on the wall, and two burly orderlies appear. "Get her cleaned up and settled in. I want hourly reports on her condition."

As they haul me back onto the bed, Elaine leans in close, her breath hot against my ear. "Welcome to the family, Cara," she whispers. "I do hope you'll learn to love it here."

Then she's gone in a cloud of expensive perfume, leaving me alone with my terror and the growing certainty that I've stepped into a nightmare from which there may be no waking.

Days blend into weeks in my gilded cage. The room I'm kept in is luxurious by any standard - plush carpets, silk sheets, a view of manicured gardens through unbreakable glass. But it's still a prison, and the knowledge eats away at me like acid.

Elaine visits daily, all saccharine smiles and veiled threats. She talks endlessly about the future she's planning for "our" family, about the greatness my child is destined for under her guidance. Each word is a knife in my heart, a reminder of everything June and I dreamed of that's slipping further away with each passing hour.

The baby grows stronger, more active. Every kick, every flutter, is a bittersweet reminder of what I'm fighting for. I talk to them constantly, whispering promises of love and safety, praying that somehow, they can sense the truth beneath Elaine's poisonous lies.

"Your daddy's coming for us," I murmur, stroking my swollen belly. "He'll move heaven and earth to find us. We just have to hold on a little longer."

But as the days stretch into weeks with no sign of rescue, doubt begins to creep in. What if Elaine was telling the truth? What if June really has abandoned us?

No. I shake my head violently, forcing the traitorous thoughts away. June would never give up on us. Never.

I'm jolted from my brooding by a commotion in the hallway. Raised voices, the thud of running feet. My heart leaps into my throat. Could it be...?

The door flies open, and my hopes come crashing down. It's not June. It's not rescue.

It's Martha, and she looks terrible.