Page 120 of Say You're Mine

I turn in his arms, cupping his face in my hands. "She can't hurt us anymore, June. She's gone."

The words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. None of us have said it out loud yet, haven't acknowledged the brutal reality of that night.

"I keep expecting her to come back," he finally admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "Elaine. To take it all away again."

I turn in his arms, cupping his face in my hands. "She can't hurt us anymore, June. She's gone."

The words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. None of us have said it out loud yet, haven't acknowledged the brutal reality of that night. Instead, we find solace in each other's presence, in the chaotic comfort of family.

"Hey, lovebirds!" Song's voice breaks through our moment. "You gonna join us, or do we have to eat all this lasagna ourselves?"

June pulls back, wiping his eyes quickly. But as he turns to face our family, I see a flicker of something in his gaze. A lightness that's been missing for far too long.

We join the others, squeezing around the small hospital table. It's chaos—elbows knocking, voices overlapping, Onyx fussing as she's passed from arm to arm. But it's our chaos. Our family.

As I watch June laugh at one of Song's terrible jokes, his arm slung casually around Amethyst's shoulders, I feel a weight lift from my chest. We're not okay, not yet. The road ahead is long and fraught with challenges.

But we're here. We're alive. And we're together.

Onyx starts to cry, her tiny face scrunching up in displeasure. Without missing a beat, June scoops her up, cradling her against his chest with a gentleness that makes my heart ache.

"Shh, little Onyx," he murmurs, swaying gently. "Daddy's got you. You're safe now. We all are."

And as I watch my daughter settle in her father's arms, I know it's true. Whatever comes next, whatever storms we have to weather, we'll face it as one.

Because that's what family does. And God help anyone who tries to tear us apart again.

Chapter thirty-six

June

The steady beep of the heart monitor grates on my nerves, a constant reminder that Elaine still breathes. I glare at her unconscious form, tubes and wires snaking from her body like some twisted parody of life support.

"Fucking cockroach," I mutter, my fists clenching at my sides. "Why won't you just die?"

"June." Dante's voice cuts through the red haze of my fury. He stands in the doorway, his face a mask of grim determination. "Step away from the bed."

I laugh, the sound harsh and bitter. "Worried I'll finish what you started, Corleone?"

His eyes narrow, but there's understanding there too. "No. I'm worried you'll do something stupid that'll jeopardize everything we've worked for."

The truth of his words hits me like a punch to the gut. I slump into the chair beside Elaine's bed, suddenly exhausted. "She doesn't deserve to live," I growl, voice raw with emotion.

Dante moves closer, his hand landing on my shoulder. "No, she doesn't. But her survival means justice. Real justice, June. The kind that'll keep her locked away forever."

I nod, the fight draining out of me. He's right, of course. But the primal part of me, the part shaped by years of Elaine's abuse, screams for blood.

"How's Cara?" I ask, desperate to change the subject before I do something I'll regret.

Dante's face softens. "She's good. Tired, but good. Onyx is a little fighter, just like her parents."

The mention of my daughter sends a pang through my chest. I should be with them, not here, wallowing in my need for revenge.

"Go home, June," Dante says, as if reading my thoughts. "Be with your family. Let us handle this."

I stand, casting one last glance at Elaine's unconscious form. "Call me the second anything changes."

"You'll be the first to know," he promises.

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