6. Cara

Chapter six

Cara

M y hand trembles as I brush the pale yellow paint onto the nursery wall, the cheerful color at odds with the icy dread pooling in my gut. I can't shake the feeling of being watched, an insidious prickle on the back of my neck that has me jumping at shadows.

Elaine's threat echoes in my head, a sinister loop that won't let me rest. "You're making a mistake, Cara. Waging war with this family, say goodbye to life as you know it..."

She knows about the baby. Knows that the child growing in my womb is a piece of June, the man she's determined to control at any cost. Would she really stoop to murder to get her way? To snuff out an innocent life before it even begins?

I don't put anything past that vicious bitch. Not anymore.

A creak sounds from the hallway and I freeze, my heart slamming against my ribs. Slowly, I set down the paintbrush, my fingers curling around the screwdriver on the drop cloth beside me. It's a pitiful excuse for a weapon, but it's all I've got.

Another creak, closer this time. The fine hairs on my arms stand at attention, every nerve in my body screaming danger. Someone is in the house. Someone who doesn't belong.

I rise to my feet, keeping my back pressed to the wall. Sweat beads on my forehead as I slide towards the door, cursing myself for not taking Louis's advice about installing a security system. The old brownstone suddenly feels as porous as tissue paper, a flimsy barrier against the malevolence that stalks me.

The nursery door swings open with an agonized groan and I raise the screwdriver, a scream building in my throat. A figure fills the doorway, tall and broad, features obscured by the backlight from the hall.

"Don't come any closer," I rasp, brandishing my pathetic weapon. "I'm warning you, I'll-"

"Cara."

That voice. Deep and honeyed, achingly familiar. It can't be...

"June?" I breathe, not daring to believe it. This has to be a trick, a sleep-deprived hallucination conjured by my desperate brain.

But then he steps into the room and it's him, it's really him. A little thinner, a little rougher around the edges, but undeniably my June.

The screwdriver clatters to the floor as I launch myself at him, a broken sob tearing from my throat. He catches me, strong arms banding around my waist as he buries his face in my hair.

You're here," I gasp, clinging to him. "You're really here."

"I'm here, baby," he rumbles, his voice cracking on the endearment. "God, I missed you so much. Thought I was going to lose my mind without you."

I pull back just far enough to crash my lips to his, the kiss desperate and clumsy. He groans into my mouth, his grip on my hips tightening to the point of pain. I welcome the ache, the delicious proof that this is real, that he's really here in my arms.

"How?" I pant, breaking away. "How did you escape?"

"Pure fucking will," he rasps. "Nothing could keep me from you, Cara. Not those bastards at the facility, not my witch of a mother. Nothing."

Fresh tears spill down my cheeks as I cup his stubbled jaw in my palms. "She's not going to stop, June. She's never going to let us be together."

His eyes flash with steely determination, a look I've seen a thousand times before and never fails to make my knees weak. "She can't stop us, Cara. No one can. We're meant to be, you and me. She'll have to kill me before I let her take you away again."

I shudder at the thought, my nails digging into his shoulders. "Don't say that. I can't lose you again, June. I won't survive it. Especially not now..."

I take his hand, guiding it to rest on the slight swell of my belly. His breath catches, his eyes widening with awe as his palm spans the small bump.

"Is that our...?" He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

"Our baby," I whisper.

A choked sound escapes him, somewhere between a laugh and a sob. "I'm going to be a father. God, Cara, we're parents. a family - I...I can't believe it."

He drops to his knees, pressing reverent kisses to my stomach through the thin fabric of my shirt. "Hey there, little one," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm your daddy. I'm sorry I wasn't here before, but I promise you, I'm never leaving again. I'm going to keep you and your mommy safe, no matter what."

It's like dancing in the rain, and June's words are torrents of love crashes over me, stealing my breath with its intensity. This man, this beautiful, damaged, utterly devoted man, is mine. And I'll be damned if I let anyone, even his monstrously cruel mother, take him from me again.

I tangle my fingers in his hair, tugging until he rises to face me. His eyes are wet, his jaw clenched tightly.

"Make love to me," I whisper, the plea ragged and raw. "I need you, June. I need to feel you."

He doesn't hesitate, his mouth slanting over mine in a kiss that sears me to my soul. It's rough and graceless, more a devouring than a caress, but it's perfect, it's everything.

He walks me backwards until my spine hits the freshly painted wall, the cloying scent of new paint and June's crisp, citrusy cologne flooding my senses. His hands are everywhere, grasping and kneading, relearning my curves with feverish desperation.

"Gonna fuck you so good, baby," June growls. "Show you who you belong to."

"Yes," I hiss, fumbling with his jeans. "Make me yours again."

"Fuck, I need to be inside you," he pants against my throat, his teeth scraping the sensitive skin. "Need to feel my baby girl squeezing me tight."

The rough words set me on fire, my core clenching with aching emptiness. I need him too, need the thick slide of him stretching me, claiming me, branding me as his.

"Please," I cry weakly, fumbling with the button of his jeans. "God, yes, June, please."

He bats my hands away, wrenching down the zipper and shoving the denim over his hips. His cock springs free, hard and leaking, the thick veins pulsing under silken skin.

I moan at the sight, my mouth flooding with saliva. It's been so long, too long, since I've had the taste of him on my tongue, the weight of him throbbing between my lips.

But June has other ideas. He hooks his fingers in my leggings, dragging them and my panties down my thighs in one rough jerk. Cool air kisses my thighs, making me moan a low breathy plea.

"Fuck, look at you," he groans, his lust-dark gaze raking over me like a physical touch. "So fucking wet for me already. Such a needy little mommy, aren't you? Gagging for my cock."

I'm positive I've never heard anything hotter in my life. He spins this little inner exhibitionist inside me, this wanton creature that I only see when June is near. His sex goddess.

His Cara of want and need insatiable.

"June, please," I beg. "I need you inside me."

He lifts me up, his cock teasing my entrance. "Beg for it, Cara. Tell me how bad you want my cock."

"Please, June," I whimper. "Fill me up. Fuck me like you own me."

With a snarl, he slams into me. I cry out, overwhelmed by the stretch and fullness.

"Fuck, you're tight," he grunts, setting a punishing pace. "Taking my cock so well, like you were made for me."

"Harder," I demand, nails raking his back. "Make me feel it for days."

He pounds into me relentlessly, each thrust punctuated by filthy praise. "Such a good girl, taking me so deep. Gonna fill you up, mark you as mine."

"More…please - pretty please" I keen, teetering on the edge. "Tame me, June! Claim me."

The flames in his eyes roar to new heights, the fire so strong it pulls gasps of ravenous air from my lungs. Foreplay is an art we specialize in, but right now, my need for him is too intense for any preamble.

My cunt is drenched, throbbing, all but chanting his name over and over. That thick, bulging cock of his needs to be filling me.

Right this minute!

He grabs the backs of my thighs, lifting me effortlessly as he notches the broad head of his cock at my entrance. I lock my ankles at the small of his back, leveraging myself to rub my slick heat along his rigid length. We both groan at the slippery friction, that perfect fit of his hard body and my soft curves.

"Do it," I demand, my nails scoring his shoulders through his shirt. "Fuck me, June. Make me forget my own name."

With a growl that vibrates through my bones, he thrusts inside me, burying himself to the hilt in one savage stroke. I cry out, my head slamming back against the wall as he fills and stretches me, the sudden invasion bordering on pain.

"God damn," he grunts, his hips grinding against mine. "Still so fucking tight. Squeezing my cock like a fucking fist."

I can only whimper in response, my inner muscles fluttering around his thickness. He surrounds me, consumes me, his scent in my nose, his heat searing my skin. I've never felt so deliciously owned, so wholly possessed.

He sets a brutal pace, his pelvis slamming against mine as he fucks me into the wall. There's no gentleness, no softness to his touch. This is pure animal need, months of pent-up desperation finding release in the slap of flesh and the sting of teeth.

"Not going to last," he warns, his rhythm faltering. "Fuck, want you too much."

"Yes," I keen, teetering on the ragged edge of my own climax. "Come for me, June. Fill me up, give me everything."

Three more rapid thrusts and he seizes up, a hoarse shout muffled against my neck as he spills inside me. The warm gush of his release triggers my own, starbursts of ecstasy ricocheting through my nerve endings as I clench and milk his spurting cock.

We stay locked together, shuddering and gasping, clinging to each other like we're the only solid things in a world turned to quicksand. Gradually, the tremors subside, our frantic heartbeats slowing to a synchronized thrum.

June raises his head, his expression soft and wondering as he brushes a sweaty strand of hair from my forehead. "I love you," he murmurs, the words rough-edged but clear. "I love you so fucking much, Cara."

Tears prick my eyes, my throat too tight to speak. I pull him back down for a kiss, trying to pour every ounce of my love, my need, my bone-deep certainty that he is my forever into the press of my lips.

But before he can respond, a sound shatters our blissful reunion like sugar glass.

Slow, mocking applause echoes from the nursery doorway, a coldly amused chuckle slithering across my skin like grave dirt.

"Well, well," a horribly familiar voice drawls. "Isn't this cozy?"

June tenses against me, a snarl rumbling up from his chest as he turns to shield me from the intruder. From the nightmare made flesh that haunts our every waking moment.

Elaine Deveaux stands framed in the doorway, flanked by two hulking brutes that scream "hired muscle". Her smile is razor-sharp, her gaze glittering with malicious triumph.

"You didn't really think you'd gotten away, did you, Juniper?" she asks, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "You should know by now...Mommy always gets what she wants."

June sets me on my feet, keeping his body angled protectively in front of mine. "Get out," he grinds, rage and terror vibrating beneath the words. "You're not welcome here, Mother."

Elaine tuts, shaking her head like she's scolding an errant child. "Such disrespect. And after everything I've done for you, every opportunity I've handed you on a silver platter."

Her gaze flicks to me and my blood turns to ice in my veins. "I warned you, girl," she hisses, all pretense of civility stripped away. "I told you what would happen if you tried to take what's mine. Now you'll face the consequences."

She nods sharply at her goons. "Take him. And if the little bitch tries to interfere...well, accidents happen, don't they?"

June wheels to face me, raw panic etched into every line of his face. "Cara, run! Get out of here, now!"

But I'm frozen, paralyzed by a fear so deep it strangles the scream building in my throat. My arms wrap instinctively around my stomach, desperation howling through me as the goons advance.

The next moments blur together, a sick kaleidoscope of grasping hands and flying fists. June fights like a wildcat, a blur of savage grace as he fends off his attackers. But there are too many of them, their drugged bulk and sheer number overwhelming his ferocity.

A blow lands, a sickening crack that sends June sprawling. Blood gushes from his nose, his eyes unfocused as a goon drags him upright by his hair.

"June!" The scream tears from my throat, my muscles unlocking as I lunge forward. But iron hands close around my arms, wrenching me away from my love, my heart, my every reason for drawing breath.

"Let this be a lesson to you, Cara." Elaine's voice is distant, muffled by the blood roaring in my ears. "Deveaux men belong with their own kind. With women who understand power, who wield it like a sword. That sweet child growing in your belly? Will never see the light of day. Not if I have anything to say about it."

A wrenching sob heaves from my chest as they drag June from the room, his heels carving grooves in the polished hardwood. His eyes never leave mine, a thousand apologies and vows searing me to my marrow.

"I'll come back for you," he mouths, crimson rivulets staining his teeth. "I swear on our baby, Cara. I'll come back..."

The slam of the front door reverberates through my bones, a jolt that buckles my knees and sends me crumpling to the floor. I land with a dull thud, my back against the newly painted wall, oblivious to the splatter of color against my skin.

Time shivers and blurs, seconds into hours into days, months, years. An endless blur of grey and cold and the hollow howl of my loss beating in my temples. I drift through the motions of life unmoored, a vacant stare and hollow eyes following me as I move through a world drained of color and meaning.

I wake each morning with June's name on my lips, reaching across the empty expanse of our bed for the solid warmth of him. But my fingers grasp only cold sheets and the shattered remnants of our dreams. I stare at the ceiling, listening to the silence where his heartbeat should be, until the sting of tears and the ache in my throat threaten to suffocate me.

Somehow, I force myself through the rituals of the day.

Shower, dress, choke down enough food to sustain the tiny life growing within me. But it's all mechanical, rote motions stripped of joy or purpose. I move through a fog, numb and disconnected, going through the motions of a life I no longer recognize.

At night, I lie awake, my mind churning with memories and fantasies and half-formed plans. In my dreams, I'm back in June's arms, his voice a rumble against my ear as he promises forever.

But inevitably, the dream twists, warps, until it's not June holding me but Elaine, her talons sinking into my flesh as she rips our child from my womb.

I wake screaming, drenched in icy sweat, the taste of blood and despair thick on my tongue.

Sonya and Song hover, their concern almost too much but just what I need – even if I can't appreciate it…my heart won't let me, while my soul mourns for June.

They coax me to eat, to rest, to talk about what happened. But their words wash over me, meaningless platitudes that can't penetrate the haze of my grief. I catch snatches of their conversations when they think I'm not listening - talk of the police, of private investigators, of leads that go nowhere.

I know I should care, should feel something other than this yawning emptiness. But I'm hollowed out, scraped raw and bleeding, a husk of the woman I used to be. The only thing tethering me to reality is the flutter in my womb, the tiny prick of feet against my ribs.

This child, this piece of June and me, is the only thing that feels real anymore.

I think the grief, the impotency would grind me into dust. My stomach grows, balloons out and stretches the skin, the new life sheltered there often the only reminder I have, that I'm still somehow breathing. Somehow still alive.

Hours have become days, days have become a week, and the calendar blurs 7 times before I find myself staring down at my body under the harsh lights of an exam room.

Sonya rubs my shoulder and smiles in encouragement, Song beams at the grainy image spreading across the ultrasound screen.

But I am floating, somewhere high above the beeps and droning medical lecture as my mind shies from reality.

June is gone.

He isn't here now, and he wasn't here yesterday, and he may never be here again. The thought steals the breath from my lungs and sends tears spilling from my eyes that Sonya misinterprets.

"Cara honey? What's wrong, is something wrong with the baby!?" She worries, whispering urgently to Song to fetch the doctor back from the hallway.

I shake my head mutely, trying to force what I hope is a comforting expression across my face. I fail judging by their twin looks of concern, but manage a shrug and platitudes that seem to assuage the worst of their distress.

The rest of the appointment and the ride home passes in that same hollow haze, and I find myself on the same couch I used to cuddle June on so many months before. Dark eyes and sweet words and the heat of his skin filling my brain until my head lolls back and dreams of him overtake me.

The slam of the door and Song's urgent voice rip me from sleep, and I blink up at him through bleary eyes as he pants for breath. Excitement pours off of him in waves, and the first true stirrings of emotion bloom in my chest.

"I followed her!" Song gasps, chest heaving and eyes bright using his hands to speak.

"What? Who?" I ask, clearing my throat.

Song's eyes are wild with excitement as he paces in front of me, his phone clutched tightly in his hand. "Amethyst, Cara."

I sit up straighter, the fog of my despair receding slightly in the face of his enthusiasm. "What did you find, Song?"

He thrusts his phone towards me, a series of images flashing across the screen. "I pretended to be a delivery guy to get into her place. And once I was in, I started snooping. Look at these."

"Holy shit," I breathe, looking up at Song with wide eyes. "How did you get these?"

" I followed her from Deveaux Corp to her condo. And you won't believe what I found."

"Song!" I gasp, torn between shock and grudging admiration. "That's so illegal!"

He shrugs, unrepentant. "Worth it if it helps bring June home, right?"

I scroll through the pictures, my heart pounding faster with each swipe. Pregnancy pillows in various sizes, clearly meant to simulate different stages of pregnancy. Dozens of unopened pregnancy tests scattered across a marble countertop. And there, damning in black and white, a sheaf of papers bearing the logo of a prominent fertility clinic.

"IVF papers," Song says, his voice tight with barely suppressed rage. "That bitch isn't pregnant at all. It's all a fucking lie."

Too many emotions crash over me - shock, disbelief, a searing fury that threatens to incinerate me from the inside out. My hands shake as I hand the phone back to Song, a red mist descending over my vision.

"That fucking bitch," I spit, pushing myself to my feet. "That lying, scheming, soulless harpy. I'll kill her. I'll rip that fake belly off and strangle her with it."

Song grabs my shoulders, his grip firm but gentle. "Whoa, easy there, mama bear. I get it, I want to go nuclear on her bleached ass too. But we have to be smart about this."

I inhale deeply, trying to calm the violent urges churning in my gut. He's right. As much as I want to go full scorched earth on Amethyst and everything she represents, I can't afford to be reckless. Not with June's life, and the life of our child, hanging in the balance.

"Okay," I say, my voice still shaky as I continue. "Okay. We need a plan. We need to confront her, get her to admit the truth. And then we use that truth to burn Elaine's house of cards to the fucking ground."

Song's grin is sharp and vicious, a mirror of the feral rage burning in my own heart. "Now you're talking. Let's go pay the wicked bitch a visit, shall we?"

The ride to Amethyst's condo passes in a blur, my mind whirring with all the things I want to say, all the ways I want to make her pay for her deceit. Song is a silent presence beside me, his hand resting on my knee in wordless support.

As we approach her door, I feel a flicker of apprehension beneath the anger. This is it. The moment of truth. The first step in the war I'm waging for my family, for the man I love more than my own life.

I raise my fist to knock, but the door swings open before I can make contact. Amethyst stands in the threshold, her perfectly made-up face a mask of confusion and irritation.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she snaps, her eyes flicking warily between me and Song.

I smile, a cold, brittle thing that doesn't reach my eyes. "Hello, Amethyst. I think it's time we had a little chat, don't you? About lies and deception and the consequences of fucking with my family."

Her face pales, a flicker of fear breaking through her haughty facade. "I don't know what you're talking about. Now get out of here before I call security."

She moves to slam the door, but I'm faster. My foot shoots out, wedging into the gap with bruising force. Amethyst stumbles back with a yelp as Song and I shoulder our way inside.

"Oh, I don't think you want to do that," I say, my voice deceptively pleasant. "See, we have proof. Proof of your little charade. And unless you want that proof plastered across every tabloid and gossip site from here to kingdom come, you're going to tell me everything."

I stalk towards her, backing her against the wall until we're nose to nose. "Starting with where the hell Elaine is keeping June. And what I need to do to bring him home."

Amethyst trembles, her eyes wide and glassy with terror. But beneath the fear, I see a glimmer of something else. Something calculating. Something that tells me she's not as dumb or submissive as she's played at being.

"I...I don't know what you're talking about," she stammers, her gaze darting between me and Song like a cornered animal.

I laugh, a harsh, humorless sound that scrapes against my throat. "Don't play games with me, Amethyst. We have pictures. The pillows, the tests, the IVF papers. We know it's all a lie. And you're going to help us expose it."

For a long moment, she says nothing. The silence stretches between us, thick and charged, broken only by the ragged sound of her breathing.

And then, just as I'm about to snap, just as my hands twitch with the urge to wrap around her slender throat and squeeze...

She smiles. A slow, sly thing that sends a chill racing down my spine.

"You're like a bad smell, you just won't go away. But," she purrs, her voice suddenly steady and far too calm. "…it seems I've underestimated you, Caramel. You're not as ditzy as you look."

She straightens, smoothing the tight fabric of her dress over her fake bump. "But if you think I'm going down without a fight, you're even dumber than I thought."

I open my mouth to retort, but the words die on my tongue as the door behind us crashes open. I whirl around, my heart in my throat, to see three hulking men in black suits striding into the room.

Elaine's goons. The same ones who dragged June away from me that fateful day.

The same ones who haunt my nightmares, their cruel laughter echoing in my head as I reach for my love, my heart, my very reason for breathing...

And grasp nothing but empty air.

"You really should have listened when I warned you to stay away," Amethyst says, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Now you'll see what happens to those who try to cross the Deveauxes."

The goons advance, their eyes cold and empty as shark's eyes. I feel Song tense beside me, ready to fight, ready to defend me with his last breath.

But even as terror floods my veins, even as hopelessness threatens to drag me under...

I feel something else spark to life inside me. Something fierce and bright and unbreakable.

Love. The love I have for June, for our child, for the family we've built against all odds.

And with that love comes a clarity, a certainty that sears through me like wildfire.

I will not let them win. I will not let them break me.

I will fight. For June. For our baby. For every moment of joy and passion and bone-deep connection they've tried to steal from us.

I am Cara Briers.

And I will not be broken.

The goons lunge.

Song braces for impact.

And I...

I smile.

Ready to face whatever comes.

Ready to burn the world down to bring my love home.