Page 47 of Beautifully Broken

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Just for a little while longer.

DAMIAN

Two weeks. That’s how long I’ve been calling in every damn favor owed to me.

It’s been nothing short of hell. Every day, fear grips my heart tighter, and it feels like the very life is being squeezed out of me.

I’ve tried to figure out if Cara left because of what happened at the bar and the memory disk she saw. Or is it something else? Something I missed.

I thought we were getting closer. She was becoming comfortable and even returning affection.

What the hell did I miss?

What sent her running?

Earlier today, we finally got a lead on Cara’s whereabouts. Relief keeps crashing over me, especially because the name Karen Weston popped up. At least she’s using the new identity.

I keep driving without stopping to sleep, pushing myself to the limit.

Christ, I hope she’s okay.

I just need to lay eyes on her.

The urgency in me keeps growing as mile after mile disappears behind my car.

The lead came from a police station in some town in the middle of bum-fucking-nowhere.

I’m well aware others might have caught onto it as well, and if that’s the case, Cara’s in danger.

Faster.

Not caring about any traffic laws, I press down on the gas.

I just need to get to Cara. I need to see she’s okay.

Only then will I be able to breathe freely again.

CARA

I’ve been living with Annie for just shy of a month. Jason still eyes me warily every time he comes to visit Annie. He doesn’t trust me, and I don’t trust him.

I started getting sick, especially around two in the afternoon. I don’t know why it’s called morning sickness if it comes at any damn time of the day.

Annie makes me drink peppermint tea with honey in the morning. It took some getting used to, but it helps a lot. Although the nausea is still there, at least I’m not throwing up anymore.

As I’m waiting on the porch for Annie, I look down at my waist. My hand settles over my stomach, that’s starting to swell, and for the zillionth time, I wonder what I’m going to do.

In four months, I’ll be forced to push a child into this ugly world.

I’ll be forced to give birth to a monster’s child.

I always dreamt about getting married, having children, and growing old with the man I love. Now it’s the furthest thing from my mind. There’s no use in dreaming about something I’ll never have.

No man will want a tainted woman like me… and her rapist’s child.

My future looks bleak. I don’t know how I’m going to do this.

What am I going to do with the baby?

I can’t go for an abortion. I just can’t. The baby didn’t ask to be here.

I could always look at adoption, but that will spotlight the fact that I’m illegally in the country. It might also lead the mafia to me.

What the hell am I going to do?

“No use in stressing over the future, honey. Tomorrow will take care of its own problems. Right now, we have to go work, so we’ll have food for tonight,” Annie says as she walks by me.

Letting out a heavy breath, I trail behind her, my thoughts refusing to leave the baby growing inside me.

Annie stops and waits for me to catch up, and then she tilts her head. “You’ve looked like death ever since that test showed you’re pregnant. A child ain’t a curse, honey.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” I whisper.

“Now, how can you say that?” We start to walk again, and Annie continues, “It’s a blessing to bring a human being into this world. You get to help shape the future.”

“You don’t understand, Annie,” I say, my voice hoarse as I try to hold back the tears.

She stops and gently takes hold of my hand. “Then make me understand.”

I shake my head and pull my hand free. There’s no way I can tell Annie about what happened in that container.

It’s a burden I’ll have to carry by myself.

When we get to the patch of land we’re working on, I go straight for the plow. It’s an old thing Annie’s husband made. It has two wheels, with a blade in the middle. You tip the handles up until the blade digs into the earth, and then you push it like a cart. It’s hard work, but it makes the time fly by.

An hour or so later, sweat is pouring down the back of my neck. As I wipe it away, I feel an odd sensation tingling up my spine. I haven’t felt it in a while.

I used to get that feeling when Damian’s eyes were on me.

My head snaps up, and I search the area around us, but there’s nothing.

Just my imagination.

I glance around me once more before carrying on with the work that needs to be done today.


Tags: Michelle Heard Dark