Chapter 146

Chapter 146
June’s POV

The soft glow of my bedroom lamp spilled across my Upper East Side apartment, felt like shadows clawing at my heart.

My hands shake as I hold my phone, my body still feeling hurt, not from broken bones, but from the violation Fig inflicted—his drugs, his cold hands, the baby I lost, a life stolen before it began.

The pain still lingers, which sends a hollow ache in my womb, leaving a scar on my soul,making my recovery a slow crawl through shame and rage.

Lily has been silent for weeks, her unanswered texts sending a growing dread that twists my gut. I need her, her quiet strength and a tether to keep me from drowning, and I’m terrified something’s wrong.

I dial her number, my breath ragged, tears already burning, praying she’s safe.

When she answers, her voice—shattered, small—rips me open. “June?” she whispers, and I’m sobbing, her pain a reflection to mine, a wound I feel in my bones.

“Lily,” I choke, my voice thick, tears streaming down my face. “Where are you? I’ve been so worried—you haven’t texted, nothing. Please, tell me you’re okay.”

My heart hammers, my grip on the phone desperate, her silence torturing, her usual warmth replaced by something broken, hurt.

I curl into my bed, my body trembling, Fig’s betrayal—his drugs in my drink, his hands on me, the clinic’s cold table—a ghost that haunts me, but Lily’s pain pulls me from my own hell, she needs my anchor.

She sobs, a sound that fractures me, her voice trembling.

“June, I’m… I’m not okay,” she says, her words halting, each one heavy.

She spills her nightmare—her father’s brutality, his fists on her face, her ribs, her mom’s blood, her bite on his head to save her mom, their escape to the woods. I’m shaking, my tears falling, her suffering a weight I can’t bear, her courage—fighting him, fleeing—a fire I’m in awe of.

“Crew saved us,” she says, her voice slow. “His driver took us to his penthouse. But… I need surgery, June. Internal bleeding. Mom too, her lung’s bad. I’m so scared.” Her fear guts me, her pain echoing my own loss that makes her father’s cruelty feel personal, a shared wound.

I sob, my hand clutching my stomach, the empty space where my baby should be.

“Lily,” I whisper, my voice cracking, “I’m so sorry. You’re so strong, fighting him, saving your mom. You don’t deserve this.”

My love for her is a tidal wave, her fear a mirror to mine when I woke up on Fig’s bed, my body no longer my own. I think of her dad, Richard, his rage over her with Crew—their love—and I’m sick, his cruelty a twin to Fig’s, monsters who break what they can’t control.

“You can stay there, Lil,” I say, my voice fierce, urgent. “Come to my place, you and your mom. After your surgeries, we’ll take care of you—my parents, doctors, everything. You’ll be safe.”

She hesitates, her breath shaky. “Crew… he won’t want us out of his sight, June. He’s protecting us, paying for it all. He’s my everything.”

Her love for him—her trust—is a fire I feel, but her fear, her loyalty, is a chain I need to loosen.

I’m jealous, a flicker of longing for that kind of love, but my pain—pushes me to protect her, her safety.

“Please, Lily,” I pressed my voice rough, tears falling. “Crew loves you, he’ll agree. My parents—they’ll get security, top doctors, make sure your dad can’t touch you. Our place is safe, you know it. I need you here, with me.”

My words are fast as I bare out my heart, Fig’s betrayal a shadow fueling my need to save her, to redeem my own helplessness.

She sniffles, her voice wavering. “Okay… I’ll talk to Crew,” she says, giving me a spark.

“I’m just… so scared of losing anyone else.” Her fear—of her dad, of breaking—cuts me, her strength, a light I cling to, a contrast to my own silence about Fig, my secret I'm not willing to tell the world yet.

I swallow my sobs, needing to lift her. “You won’t lose me, Lil,” I say, my love fierce. “We’ll fight this together.” She shifts, her voice soft, caring despite her hell.

“How are you, June? Are you… okay?” Her question pierces remaining me of my pain—Fig’s drugs, my baby’s blood—a secret I choke on.

“I’m… healing,” I say, my voice low, tears spilling, as I put my hand on my stomach, the ache of a ghost.

“It’s hard, but I’m better, stronger. I can’t wait to be back at school, with you, to be us again.” My longing for our bond—our laughter, our secrets—is a fire. “We’ll walk those halls together, Lil, no matter what.” My words are a promise, my hope a shield against my pain, her fight a spark I’m borrowing.

She laughs, faint, broken but real. “I miss you, June,” she whispers, her love a tether, and I’m sobbing, my heart full, her resilience a miracle. “All will be okay,” she says, her voice firm, echoing my hope, her courage a blaze I’m fueling.

“I miss you too,” I choke, my tears falling. “Talk to Crew, come to me. Your dad’s not winning—you are.”

My words are a vow, my love a shield, Fig’s betrayal a shadow I’ll bury to save her. I think of Crew—his fierce love—and trust him, his protection a bridge to my plan. My parents’ power, our home’s safety, is her haven, her surgery, her mom’s, a hurdle we’ll clear. I’ll call them, arrange security, doctors, a room for her and Mary.

We linger, her breaths easing, my heart with hers, my pain—my baby, Fig’s crime—a fire I’ll turn to strength for her.

“I love you, June,” she whispers, and I’m breaking. “I love you, Lil,” I say, my soul bare, her fight with mine. We chat for a few minutes before we end the call.

I hang up, my phone falling,and I hate how these psychopaths think they can control.

Not for long.

I'm weak anymore. I place my hand on my stomach again.

Fig.

I'm going to make him pay for what he did to me.

I'll ruin him.

I wipe my face as I call my dad.

“Hello pumpkin.”

I smile brightly now.

Both of my parents have been nice and showing me attention and care. It took them this long to act right after I was hurt.

Don't get me wrong.

I totally love it but it's still strange to me but I look forward to accepting it.

“Hi dad.”

I say as I tell him about Lily.