Page 92 of Say You're Mine

St. Clair's eyes harden, his pleasant mask slipping. "Think carefully, Deveaux. Cara's due in four months. And once that baby's born... well, accidents happen, don't they?"

Ice floods my veins, a sickening dread settling in my gut. "If you lay a finger on her, on either of them, I swear to God-"

"You'll what?" St. Clair cuts me off, his voice sharp as a razor. "Rot in this cell? Watch helplessly as your precious little family is ripped apart? Because that's exactly what will happen if you don't cooperate."

I lunge for him, my hands outstretched, ready to wrap around his throat and squeeze until his smug face turns purple. But he's too quick, stepping neatly out of reach.

"Think it over, Deveaux," he says, straightening his tie. "But don't take too long. Cara's clock is ticking."

With that, he's gone, the cell door slamming shut behind him with a clang of finality.

I slump against the wall, my legs giving out beneath me. Despair, heavy and suffocating, presses down on my chest. They have me cornered, trapped like a fucking rat in a maze with no way out.

But even as hopelessness threatens to drown me, a flicker of defiance sparks to life in my chest. No. Fuck that. Fuck them. I won't let them win, won't let them break me.

Dante and the others, they're out there. Working to unravel Elaine's web, to bring her poisonous empire crashing down. I have to believe in them, in Cara's strength. I have to hold on, to keep fighting. For her. For our child.

With a grunt of effort, I push myself to my feet. I close my eyes, picturing Cara's face. The stubborn set of her jaw, the fire in her storm-grey eyes. She's a warrior, my girl.

My Cara Mia won't go down without a fight.

My whole fucking heart, stomping around in the big wide world without me. I'd rip apart heaven and earth to keep her safe, to keep our child out of Elaine's clutches. And that's exactly what I'm going to do.

But first, I need to rest. I need to gather my strength for the battle ahead. I stretch out on my bunk, my muscles aching with tension and fatigue.

As I drift into a restless sleep, I dream of Cara. Of her soft skin under my fingertips, her laughter ringing out like bells on a clear summer day. I dream of our child, a perfect blend of her and me, untouched by the shadows that have haunted my life.

In my dreams, we're free. Free of Elaine, of Faulkner, of all the darkness that's tried so hard to tear us apart. It's a beautiful fantasy, a glimpse of the life I'm fighting for.

But even in the depths of sleep, I can feel it. A presence, lurking just beyond the edges of my consciousness. Watching. Waiting. I try to shake it off, to sink deeper into dreams of happier times.

I should've known better.

Should've trusted that instinct that's kept me alive all these years.

Then, the attack comes out of nowhere, a flurry of movement and searing pain. I try to fight back, but I'm groggy, disoriented. A hand clamps over my mouth, stifling my shouts. And then the knife, plunging into my gut like a hot poker.

I look up into the face of my attacker, his features blurred by agony and the creeping darkness at the edges of my vision.

"Mrs. Deveaux sends her regards," he hisses, his breath fetid against my cheek.

And then he's gone, leaving me to choke on my own blood, my life leaking out onto the cold concrete floor.

As I lay there, my strength fading with every ragged breath, I think of Cara. My love, my light, my reason for everything. "I'm sorry," I think, the words a desperate prayer into the void. "I'm so sorry, baby. I tried. I tried so fucking hard."

I think of all the moments we'll never have. The lazy Sunday mornings tangled in sheets, the laughter-filled dinners with friends and family. I think of our child's first steps, first words, first day of school. All the milestones I'll miss, all the memories I'll never get to make.

It's a pain worse than any knife could inflict, a sorrow so deep it steals the breath from my lungs. I've failed them. Failed Cara, failed our baby. And now I'll never have the chance to make it right.

The darkness is closing in now, cold and final. And I know, with a clarity that pierces through the pain, that this is the end. The end of Juniper Deveaux, the boy who never had a chance. The man who loved too deeply, fought too hard.

But even as I feel myself slipping away, even as the last vestiges of light fade from my world, I cling to one final thought. One final truth, bright and shining amidst the encroaching dark.

I love you, Cara. You and our little one. More than my own life, more than anything in this godforsaken world. And though I won't be there to see it, I know you'll give our child the life they deserve. The life I always dreamed of.

Be happy, my love. Be free. And know that wherever I am, whatever comes after this... I'll be watching over you. I'll be loving you, always and forever.

I'm sorry I couldn't keep my promise. Sorry I couldn't be the man you needed me to be. But I hope, in the end, you can forgive me. Forgive me for leaving, for failing.

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