Page 101 of Say You're Mine

No name, no return address. Just those ten words and a photo of Cara sleeping, clearly taken through our bedroom window. The implication is clear: Elaine knows. She's coming for Cara, for our baby. And I'll be damned if I let that happen.

So here I am, blowing months of careful planning to hell because I couldn't stay away. Because the need to see Cara, to make sure she's safe, overrode every ounce of common sense I possess.

"He'll never get to meet our child," Cara's voice cracks, and the sound is a knife to my gut. "But I promise you, June, our baby will know you. Will know how brave you were, how strong, how full of love."

Fuck. FUCK. I want to run to her, to gather her in my arms and never let go. To tell her it's all a lie, that I'm here, that I love her more than my own life.

But I can't. Not yet. Not until I'm sure it's safe.

I scan the crowd, cataloging faces. Judith, steely-eyed and ramrod straight in the front pew. Dante, his expression unreadable as always. Sarah, dabbing at her eyes with a crumpled tissue. And there, near the back, a face that doesn't belong.

Lucius St. Claire. Elaine's right-hand man and resident sociopath.

Ice floods my veins. If he's here, that means Elaine knows. The plan is well and truly fucked.

I have to move. Have to get to Cara before-

"You may be gone," Cara's voice rings out, steel beneath the grief, "but you'll never be forgotten. Not as long as I'm breathing."

My control snaps. I step forward, out of the shadows, into the harsh light of day.

The gasp that ripples through the crowd is like a physical blow. Cara's eyes meet mine, and for a moment, the world narrows to just us. Those storm-gray eyes I'd kill for, die for, widen in shock and disbelief.

"June?" The word is barely a whisper, but it carries in the sudden silence of the church.

Then all hell breaks loose.

Shouts erupt, a cacophony of confusion and accusation. I push through the crowd, desperate to reach Cara. But before I can, her eyes roll back and she crumples.

"Cara!" I lunge forward, but Dante is faster. He catches her, cradling her against his chest as he barks orders for someone to call an ambulance.

I'm almost there, just a few more steps, when a hand clamps down on my shoulder. I whirl, ready to fight, only to come face to face with Judith.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" she hisses, her eyes blazing with a mixture of fury and fear.

"Elaine knows," I growl, trying to shake off her grip. "She threatened Cara. I had to-"

"You had to blow our entire operation?" Judith cuts me off, her voice low and dangerous. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

I do. God help me, I do. But none of it matters. Nothing matters except getting to Cara, making sure she and the baby are safe.

"I don't care," I snarl, finally wrenching free of Judith's grasp. "I'm not leaving her again."

I turn back towards Cara, only to find my path blocked by a wall of black suits. Dante's men, their faces grim and unyielding.

"Move," I growl, my hands curling into fists at my sides.

"Can't do that, boss," one of them says, not unkindly. "Mr. Corleone's orders. We gotta get you out of here."

I'm about to tell him exactly where he can shove Dante's orders when I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. St. Claire, slipping out a side door, phone pressed to his ear.

Fuck. FUCK.

"June." Judith's voice cuts through the fog of panic and rage. "We have to go. Now."

I look back at Cara, still unconscious in Dante's arms. Every fiber of my being screams to go to her, to explain, to make this right.

But I can't. Not without putting her in even more danger.

---