Page 1 of Say You're Mine

Chapter one

June

The stench of antiseptic slaps me awake, a pungent cocktail of bleach and despair that no amount of industrial-grade cleaner can mask. My eyes snap open, pupils contracting painfully against the harsh fluorescent glare. Fuck. This isn't my penthouse. It's not Cara's warm, inviting bed.

No, this is somewhere much, much worse.

I try to sit up, but padded restraints bite into my wrists and ankles. Panic claws its way up my throat as realization dawns. I'm in a fucking psych ward.

"What the hell?" I rasp, my voice a broken whisper.

Memories flood back in a dizzying rush. Cara's face, twisted in betrayal as I confessed to the cameras. Her gray eyes, stormy with hurt and rage. "Get out," she'd snarled. "Don't ever come back."

But I had come back. Again and again, driven by an obsession that burns hotter than hellfire in my veins.

I close my eyes, and suddenly I'm there again. Cara, pinned beneath me on her couch, her skin flushed and glistening with sweat. My hand wrapped around her delicate throat, just tight enough to make her gasp.

"You're mine," I'd growled, nipping at the sensitive spot behind her ear. "Say it."

"Yours," she'd moaned, arching into me. "Always yours, June."

The memory sends a jolt of arousal through me, and I strain against the restraints. My cock hardens painfully, desperate for her touch.

A door creaks open, shattering the erotic reverie. A nurse enters, her face a mask of professional detachment.

"Good morning, Mr. Deveaux," she chirps, voice dripping with fake cheer. "How are we feeling today?"

I bare my teeth in what might charitably be called a smile. "Just peachy. Mind telling me what the fuck I'm doing here?"

She tsks, shaking her head. "Now, now. That kind of language won't help your recovery. You're here because your family is concerned about your well-being. They want to help you get better."

Ice floods my veins. Mother.

Of course it was her, finally making good on her threats to have me committed. To break me of my "unhealthy obsession" with Cara.

"How long?" I demand, struggling to keep my voice steady.

The nurse checks her clipboard. "You've been with us for eight days now. Don't you remember being admitted?"

Eight fucking days. More than a week torn away from Cara. My heart races, pounding against my ribcage like it might burst free at any moment.

"I need to make a phone call," I say, forcing my tone to remain calm and reasonable. "It's urgent."

She shakes her head, that patronizing smile still plastered on her face. "I'm afraid that's not possible right now, Mr. Deveaux. Doctor's orders. Now, let's get you ready for your morning meds, shall we?"

As she turns to prepare a syringe, my mind whirs into overdrive. I can't stay here. I won't. Every second I'm locked away is another chance for Cara to slip through my fingers. To forget the scorching connection that binds us together.

I have to get out. Have to find my way back to her, no matter the cost.

The nurse approaches with the needle, and I school my features into a mask of docile compliance. "There we go," she coos as she injects the contents into my IV line. "This will help you feel much better."

I nod, letting my eyelids droop as if suddenly drowsy. But inside, a feral grin spreads across my face. Let them think they've broken me. Let them believe their drugs and restraints can tame the beast that rages within.

They have no idea what I'm capable of. What I'll do to get back to my Cara.

As the nurse's footsteps fade and the door clicks shut, I open my eyes. The room swims, the edges of my vision blurring from whatever cocktail they've pumped into me. But my mind remains razor-sharp, focused on a single, all-consuming goal.

I'm coming for you, Cara. Nothing will keep us apart. Not my bitch of a mother, not these doctors, not even your own misguided attempts to push me away.

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