Page 60 of Say You're Mine

"It's nothing," I grit out, but my hands are shaking. "Just... don't talk about him. Please."

Understanding dawns in her gaze, followed quickly by a fierce protectiveness that steals my breath. "Oh, June. What did that bastard do to you?"

I shake my head, unable to voice the horrors. Cara cups my face, forcing me to meet her eyes. "Listen to me. Whatever Faulkner showed you, whatever he made you think you saw - it wasn't real. I'm yours, completely and utterly. No one else."

Her words are a balm, but the poison lingers. I crush her to me, burying my face in her hair. "Make me forget," I rasp. "Please, Cara. I need..."

"Shh," she soothes, pressing kisses along my jaw. "I've got you. Let me take care of you."

What follows is a haze of sensation - Cara's lips on my skin, her hands mapping every scar, every ridge of muscle. She takes me apart piece by piece, driving the shadows back with each touch, each whispered endearment.

When she finally sinks down onto me, it's like coming home. I grip her hips hard enough to bruise, desperate to ground myself in this moment, in her.

"Look at me," Cara demands, and I obey instantly. Her eyes blaze with love, with a possessiveness that matches my own. "You're mine, June Deveaux. My husband, my heart, the father of my child. Nothing and no one will ever change that."

I surge up to capture her lips, pouring every ounce of devotion, of need, into the kiss. We move together, finding that perfect rhythm that speaks of years of intimacy, of knowing each other's bodies as well as our own.

It's not gentle. It can't be, not with the storm of emotions raging between us. But it's exactly what we both need - a reaffirmation, a reclaiming.

When we finally come apart, trembling and gasping, I feel... not whole, not yet. But closer than I've been in months.

Cara collapses against my chest, and I wrap my arms around her, marveling at the swell of her belly pressed between us. Our child. Our future.

"We're going to be okay," Cara murmurs, already half-asleep. "You, me, and little Onyx. We'll figure it out."

I press a kiss to her temple, tightening my hold. "Yeah," I whisper, allowing myself to believe it, just for this moment. "We will."

As Cara drifts off to sleep, I'm left alone with the weight of what just happened. The passion, the desperation, the edge of violence - it both exhilarates and terrifies me. Did I go too far? Is this who I've become?

I brush a gentle hand over Cara's bruised skin, guilt warring with a possessive satisfaction. She said she wanted it, trusted me completely. But can I trust myself?

Faulkner's conditioning still echoes in my mind, a poison threatening to corrupt even this moment of connection. I tighten my hold on Cara, as if I could physically keep the demons at bay.

Sleep won't come easy tonight. Not with Elaine's threats looming and the knowledge of what I'm capable of when pushed to the brink. I'll protect my family at any cost - but at what cost to my soul?

Chapter eighteen

Cara

The first rays of sunlight creep through the curtains, painting the room in soft hues of gold and pink. I blink awake, my hand instinctively moving to my swollen belly. The baby kicks, a gentle reminder of why we're fighting so hard.

"Good morning, little one," I murmur, rubbing slow circles over my stomach. "Today's a big day for us."

As I stretch, my muscles protest, a bittersweet reminder of June's desperate passion just days ago. My fingers trace the fading marks on my neck, and a shiver runs through me - part desire, part fear. We danced so close to the edge that night, teetering between love and something darker.

The space beside me is empty, the sheets cold. June's absence is a physical ache, a void I can't seem to fill. He should be here, holding my hand, whispering reassurances as we face this battle together. But the doctors were adamant - he's not stable enough for the stress of court. Not yet.

I force myself out of bed, padding to the bathroom on bare feet. The cool tile sends a shock through my system, grounding me in the present. I stare at my reflection, barely recognizing the woman who looks back at me. Dark circles shadow my eyes, my skin pale and drawn. I look... haunted.

"Pull it together, Cara," I mutter, splashing cold water on my face. "You've got this."

But do I? The doubt gnaws at me, insidious and relentless. What if I'm not strong enough? What if Elaine's lies and manipulation are too much to overcome?

A soft knock at the door interrupts my spiral. "Cara?" Natalie's voice filters through, warm with concern. "You okay in there?"

I take a deep breath, squaring my shoulders. "Yeah, I'm good. Be out in a minute."

Voices and laughter drift up from downstairs, pulling me from my reverie. I throw on a robe and make my way to the kitchen, pausing in the doorway to take in the scene before me.

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