Page 117 of Say You're Mine

Cara looks up at me, her eyes shining with love. "Yes, we did," she says softly. "And no matter what happens next, we'll face it together. As a family."

I nod, my heart filled with a fierce determination. "Always," I vow, pressing a kiss to her lips. "Always."

As the night wears on, the adrenaline begins to fade, replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion. But it's a good kind of exhaustion, the kind that comes from knowing you've fought and won, that you've protected what matters most.

I watch as Cara drifts off to sleep, our daughter nestled in her arms, and I know that no matter what challenges lie ahead, we'll face them together. Because in the end, love is stronger than fear, stronger than pain, stronger than anything Elaine or the world can throw at us.

The early morning light filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. I sit quietly, watching over my family, my heart filled with a deep, abiding love. Judith and Emily move about the house, cleaning up and making sure everything is in order, their quiet efficiency a balm to my frayed nerves.

As the sun rises, casting its warm light over us, I know that this is just the beginning. There will be more battles to fight, more dangers to face. But as long as we have each other, as long as we stand together, nothing can tear us apart.

I lean down, pressing a gentle kiss to Cara's forehead, then to our daughter's tiny brow. "Welcome to the world, little one," I whisper, my voice filled with wonder. "We've got a lot to show you."

And with that, I settle back, content to simply be, to bask in the love and warmth of my family. For now, that's enough. For now, that's everything.

Chapter thirty-five

Cara

The soft weight of Onyx in my arms anchors me to reality. Her tiny fingers curl around mine, impossibly small yet strong. I trace the delicate whorls of her fingerprints, marveling at their uniqueness. I breathe in her scent—new life and endless possibility—and for a moment, the world fades away.

I study her face, memorizing every detail. The slight bump on her button nose, inherited from June. The curve of her lips, a mirror of my own. Her eyelashes, impossibly long, flutter against her cheeks as she dreams. What does she see in those newborn dreams? A world unmarred by pain and betrayal? I hope so.

Reality creeps back in, harsh and unforgiving. The ache in my body is a constant reminder of the ordeal we've been through. Each shift sends a dull throb through my core, a reminder of the violence that brought Onyx into this world.

I glance at June, hovering nearby. The shadows under his eyes are deep purple bruises, a testament to sleepless nights and unspoken terrors. His gaze darts from Onyx to the door and back again, ever-watchful. The set of his shoulders speaks of a man ready to fight at a moment's notice.

Despite his best efforts, the lingering scent of gunpowder and blood clings to him. It's faint, probably unnoticeable to anyone else, but to me, it's a stark reminder of what he had to do to keep us safe. No matter how many times he showers, I wonder if that scent will ever truly fade.

We're safe. We're together. But at what cost?

A soft knock at the door jolts me from my reverie. June tenses, his hand instinctively reaching for a weapon that's no longer there. I watch his fingers flex, grasping at empty air. Old habits die hard, and some wounds take longer to heal than others.

"It's just me," Natalie's voice filters through, soothing our frayed nerves.

June's shoulders relax a fraction, but the wariness doesn't leave his eyes. He moves to open the door, positioning himself between me and potential danger. Always the protector.

Natalie enters, a whirlwind of designer perfume and carefully controlled chaos. Her Louboutins click against the linoleum, a sharp contrast to the hushed atmosphere of the hospital room. She's dressed impeccably as always, but I notice the slight smudge in her eyeliner, the way her smile doesn't quite reach her eyes. Even Natalie isn't immune to the strain of recent events.

Her eyes soften as they land on Onyx, a genuine warmth spreading across her features. "How are our girls doing?" she asks, perching on the edge of the bed. The mattress dips slightly under her weight, and I'm suddenly aware of how small this room is, how confined.

I manage a smile, small but genuine. "We're hanging in there. Aren't we, little one?" I coo, stroking Onyx's downy cheek. Her skin is impossibly soft beneath my fingertips, a reminder of her fragility and the enormous responsibility we now bear.

Natalie's gaze flicks to June, a silent conversation passing between them. It's subtle—a slight narrowing of her eyes, a nearly imperceptible nod from him—but I catch it. My heart rate picks up, a staccato beat against my ribs. "What is it?" I demand, tightening my hold on Onyx. Her warm weight is comforting against my chest. "What's happened?"

June moves closer, his hand coming to rest on my shoulder. The warmth of his touch seeps through my thin hospital gown, grounding me. "It's over, Cara," he says, his voice rough with emotion. "We got them all out. Elaine's facility... it's done."

The words hit me like a physical blow. Relief and guilt war in my chest, making it hard to breathe. "All of them?" I whisper, hardly daring to hope. "Even the... the other women?"

Natalie nods, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Every last one. They're safe, Cara. Getting the help they need."

A sob bubbles up in my throat, and I bury my face in my daughter's soft hair. We did it. We actually did it. The nightmare is over.

But as the initial wave of relief passes, darker thoughts creep in. How many lives were destroyed before we could stop it? How many children will grow up never knowing their birth mothers, forever scarred by Elaine's twisted legacy?

"Hey." June's voice cuts through the spiral of my thoughts. He cups my face, forcing me to meet his gaze. "I know that look. Don't go there, baby. We did what we could. We won."

I lean into his touch, drawing strength from his unwavering certainty. "I know," I whisper. "I just... I wish we could have done more. Sooner."

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