Disappearance: A broken Wing

Explain

"I want to see Baxton," I demanded, my voice sharp with anger. For the past hour, Hito and I had been arguing—no, screaming—over whether or not I'd be allowed to see Baxton after the brutal beating he'd taken.

"No. And that's my final offer," Hito snapped. We argued like we were some dysfunctional, married couple.

"You listen to me," I said through clenched teeth. "If I don't see him right now, I will take every single chance I get to kill myself. And if I die, your heir dies too."

Hito's jaw twitched. "I will have protective detail on you every night if you try."

"You can't protect a dead woman. Now let me see Baxton—NOW!"

He glared at me, but I didn't back down. I stared him down with the same stubbornness that used to annoy my mom.

"Fine," Hito finally said, his tone like poison. "But let's get one thing clear: as soon as my child comes out of you, I will make your life a living hell all over again."

"Trust me," I shot back, "you've already accomplished that."

"Follow me."

I trailed behind Hito down the hall, my stomach twisting with fear and worry. When he opened the door to Baxton's room, my heart shattered. Baxton lay on the bed, his body covered in bruises, some cuts still bleeding.

"You get five minutes alone. That's it," Hito said coldly before leaving.

The second the door closed, I rushed to Baxton's side.

"Kara... what are you doing here?" His voice was raspy, weak.

"I came to check on you," I said softly.

"You shouldn't be here."

"You shouldn't have taken a beating for something I did!" I snapped, tears brimming in my eyes. "Why did you protect me?"

Baxton tried to sit up, wincing with the effort. "You're pregnant."

"Trust me," I scoffed, "I just found out my child is Hito's heir. They wouldn't have dared to beat me knowing I could lose the baby. So why did you protect me?"

His gaze met mine, and the raw emotion there nearly broke me. "Because I care about you. You're right—Hito wouldn't have hit you. But he would have hurt you in other ways, and I can't stand seeing you in pain. You think I cut off communication because you're carrying my uncle's heir? No. I stopped talking to you because I hate knowing you're in this mess because of me. I couldn't handle watching you suffer."

I stared at Baxton, his face etched with guilt and sorrow, and my heart ached for him.

I sat on the edge of his bed, gently touching his shoulder. Slowly, he sat up, and for a moment, we just stared at each other.

"Can I ask you something?" I whispered.

"Of course."

"At dinner, Hito mentioned how he failed Mick. What happened?"

Baxton's jaw tightened. "A year ago, Hito got one of his slaves pregnant. He wanted a child—someone to carry his name, to inherit his fortune, to... continue his cruelty. He was so obsessed with being a father, he even prenamed the kid Mick. But he abused Carly, the girl he got pregnant—every single day. When she went into labor, the baby was born dead."

"Carly... she was the one he impregnated?"

"Yeah," Baxton said quietly. "Now he wants you to give him another heir. He'll treat you well, at least until you have the baby."

"I won't let him take my baby," I said firmly.

"He will take it," Baxton said, his voice low but steady. "And there's nothing you can do to stop him."

"I will fight for my baby."

"I know you will," Baxton said, his eyes softening, "and I'll fight for you. I can't predict the future, but I promise this: as long as I'm alive, I'll never stop trying to help you escape."

"You really mean that?" I asked, my throat tightening.

Baxton cupped my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. "I promise you. I'll always fight for you."

A small, bittersweet smile tugged at my lips. "If my baby's a boy, I already know what I'm naming him."

Baxton tilted his head. "What's that?"

"Baxton Zayden Smalls. After you... and my brother."

His lips parted slightly, his expression softening. "You're naming him after me?"

"You and my brother," I repeated. "Both of you mean more to me than anyone."

"That... that means more than you'll ever know."

"When I do escape," I said, "I hope you're with me."

"Same," he murmured.

I couldn't stop myself from leaning in and kissing him. It wasn't rushed, or desperate, or broken. It was gentle—sweet—and real. My heart ached, knowing it might be our only chance.

When I finally pulled away, I stood and walked toward the door. Before opening it, I turned back to him.

"I might not be a virgin anymore, and I've never had a boyfriend," I said softly. "But at least I won't die without knowing what it's like to kiss someone I love."

And with that, I left, my heart pounding but myhope burning brighter than it had in months. If Baxton was by my side, I justknew we'd find a way to escape