“I’m sorry I failed him,” I say to Jackson as I climb in the back seat with Mark. I needed to speak the words to his friend. I had no choice. If they smoked me out sooner, it would’ve been the end of all of us. I was so close to having the information we’ve been searching for, but when I discovered they took Mark, everything shifted.
Jackson’s hand rests on my arm. “You did what any of us would do. He’ll understand.”
Did I? I hid. These men don’t hide. They get caught because they think it’ll save someone. They waltz into the face of the enemy and spit on him. I cowered in a corner until we had all our ducks in a row.
“Now, Charlie,” Mandi says as she gets in behind the wheel. She’s aware that we’re wasting time. She’s right, both Mark and I need to be treated.
“Be safe,” Jackson says as he shuts the door.
I nod, and we race off to the safe house. I keep my hand on my wound, but I’m starting to feel numb. My head falls back, and I fight the urge to sleep.
“Stay with me, Charlie. You need to stay awake.” Mandi swerves through traffic as my vision fades. I’m coming down from my adrenaline rush, and my body is fully aware of the pain.
“What about the baby?” I glance over at Mark, who’s asleep.
“As long as I get the bleeding to stop and you take it easy . . .” She stops herself as panic hits me.
“Oh, God.”
“Relax. One minute and we’ll be there. Just stay awake.”
I fight with every ounce I have. I watch Mark, who was so strong and willing to endure much more than a small flesh wound. I can do this. I have to do this. All I keep thinking is that I hope he’ll understand why I lied and pushed him away. Because he’s all I care about right now. Not Mazir, not avenging my father’s death, not what happens to Christopher Asher, just him and this baby.
We pull into the underground parking of the new safe house Mandi and I arranged. She and I are the only two people who know its location. She rushes to my door and puts pressure on my arm. “Oh, God!” I scream out as the pressure increases the pain.
I climb out of the car with her pressing right below my shoulder. “No one told you to get shot.”
“I’ll be fine. Let’s get him inside. He’s in far worse shape,” I say as we move around the car and pull his door open. How the hell I’ll be able to help carry him is beyond me.
I carefully reach around with my other arm and unhook his seatbelt. Mark’s left eye opens. “Hi, blue eyes.”
“Hi.” I smile. “We need to get inside now. Can you walk with me and Mandi helping?”
His right eye is swollen shut, and I pray he doesn’t suffer any permanent injuries. “I’m a tough guy.”
“I know,” I murmur.
We somehow extract him from the car. His pace is slow, but he pushes through. I count each step. We’re getting close. I have to keep going and then I can sit. Sweat drips from my face, my legs keep wobbling from his weight and my blood loss, but all I can think about is the baby. We get to the apartment, enter the codes, and I collapse against the door. I have nothing left.
“Charlie!” Mark calls out as he grabs my arm. I cry out in agony. He releases his grip and stares down at the blood covering his hand. “What the hell?”
I’m panting. “Calm down, you have to get inside,” I say.
Mandi holds onto him. “I have to stitch her up, so we need to get inside right now. Let me treat her.”
“How do I know you’re not behind this?”
“Mark,” I chide. “Inside.”
He doesn’t fight her, but he doesn’t leave my side. “Her first.”
Always has to fight me. I swear some things never change.
Instead of arguing with him, Mandi helps me inside before going back for him. I remove my shirt and everything is soaked through. Mark sits next to me, weak and bloody. “How bad?” he wheezes.
“Mandi!” I call her over. “I’m losing a lot.”
“Shhh, everything will be fine. I need to work fast.” She gives me her best comforting voice.
Of course, it does nothing for me. I can’t lose this baby. Tears well in my eyes at the idea of having to tell him. “Please,” I beg.
Mark’s one eye stares at me as she removes the blood soaked bandage. “He fucking shot you.”
He looks far worse than I feel. I hate that right now she’s treating me instead of him. I’m not a medical professional, but I know enough to survive. The very little energy his body had stored, he’s depleted. I need to get nutrients in him. It’s been three weeks since he was taken from my apartment. Three weeks of God only knows what kind of treatment. Yet, I’m sitting here getting stitched up. I should be stronger than this, but the truth is—I’m not.
“It’s just a flesh wound.”
He growls and restlessly attempts to stand. “I could take it. I could handle all the hell they put me through, but he wasn’t supposed to hurt you.”
“Mark,” I plead as Mandi gives me a look. “Sit. I’ve had far worse injuries than this. We’ll be fine.”
“Yeah.” He huffs. “We’re all doing fucking peachy.”
Mandi glances up, smirks, and then returns to the wound. She cleans it as a different kind of tears form. The burn is intense and extremely painful. This is worse than realizing I was nicked. “It hit a weird place, that’s why you’re bleeding this much. I can’t give you anything.” Her eyes lock on mine and I nod.
“I can take it.”
Mark shifts closer, taking my hand in his. “Take something for the damn pain.”
“I can’t,” I say. I’m unable to look at him.
“Why the hell not? Why are you acting weirder than usual?”
My nerves are shot. My body hurts, and he’s pushing me. I bite my tongue because there’s no way I’m letting him know like this. He needs to be hydrated and preferably sedated.
“Charlie, you need to stay still, and calm.” She lines the needle against the skin. “This is going to hurt.”
Mark pushes Mandi’s hand away. “What is wrong with you? Take the painkillers. You’ve been shot!”
“Don’t stop her again,” I warn him. How the hell he’s not passed out, I don’t know. But neither of us has the luxury of arguing. “Either go in the other room, or sit quietly.”
“Goddamn stubborn woman.”
“They wouldn’t kick in that quickly anyway. So shut up and let me do this so I can take care of you afterward. I don’t need to be doped up when I’m trying get you stable. Would you like me to insert the IV in the wrong place?” I ask with hostility dripping from my words. I don’t like this either, but there is more than one reason why me being anything less than alert is a bad idea.
Mark finally takes the hint and keeps his mouth shut. Once I’m sure he’s done, I nod to Mandi. “I’m ready.”
“I’ll be quick,” she assures me.
Mandi starts and I slam my eyes closed. I count, sing songs, and think about the precious baby growing inside me. He or she is worth this. I need to stop the bleeding, and then I need to try to fix its father.
Once she finishes patching me up, we both move into action to get Mark cared for. Mandi has to leave here, though. She could be tracked and then this house is no longer safe for us. She and I both know we have another ten minutes—tops.
“Get him set up. I have to go. I’ll be in touch as soon as phase two is done. You have everything you need. Take care of you all.” She smiles.
“Thank you. Find out who the son is,” I remind her.
“I will.” She hugs me gently before she leaves.
With no time to spare, I get an IV started in Mark. He lies back while I work on him. “Are you okay?” he asks. “And you think she can be trusted?”
I smile. “Yes, she’s on our side. Mandi has proven her loyalty, and as for being okay . . . I am now.” I stand beside him and touch his face. “I was worried . . . about so much.”
There have been times in my life that I’ve felt true fear. One was when an asset turned a gun on me. I remember thinking it was the end, but he faltered. This day makes that one look like a joke. This fear was paralyzing. It overtook every part of my body. I couldn’t think or find ways to keep my eye on the end goal. Getting Mark back was all I cared about. If others had to suffer from that, I didn’t care.
“Once again, Charisma Erickson, you doubt me.”
“Get some sleep. We have a lot to talk about when you’re rested.”
Mark reclines with ice packs on his face and several other areas of his body, but he doesn’t complain. He keeps his gaze on me as much as he can. He dozes in and out, and each time he awakens, he searches for me.
Hours pass and I hear nothing from Mandi. I didn’t think I would, but her silence is driving me insane. After we pinpointed exactly who was involved in Christopher’s clan, we were able to make our move. Dominic contacted someone he trusted, and the mission began. The key is for me to remain underground until it’s safe. I refuse to hand over my father’s information until I know Christopher is detained.
I sit by Mark’s side, hold his hand, and pray each time he falls asleep that he’ll wake again. We stocked this house, prepared it for whatever condition he’d be in. I never imagined he would be this bad, though. I didn’t think Christopher would ever go to these lengths. He must think there’s more in that file than just a few photos and notes in some random code.
My heart rattles around in my chest as I envision what they had to do to cause this damage. I worry about internal bleeding, broken bones, and so much more. He needs to get to the hospital, but they’ll kill us both before we get there. I have to pray I know enough to get us through the next few days.
I check my phone again, but there’s nothing. I worry about all the things that could’ve gone wrong. My type-A personality is spazzing out. I need some kind of news before I wear a hole in the floor.
Mark stirs a few times as I treat his wounds, apply arnica lotion, and ice the swollen parts of him, which is basically everywhere. The swelling goes down a little, then right back up once I remove the ice packs. After a round of clean bandages and a few hours of repeating the process, he appears a little better.
Observing him like this makes me hate myself. For the first time ever, I wish I were simply an antiquities dealer—no smoke and mirrors, no crazy job. Just a normal girl who doesn’t have a death certificate waiting on her.
Everything inside me hurts—my heart, my head, my muscles. I need sleep, but I can’t leave his side. If there’s one thing I learned, it’s that we’re stronger as a team. When we’re divided, that’s our weakness. There’s nothing more I want than to curl up in his arms, but I can’t. So I climb next to him, tangle my fingers with his, lay my head on his shoulder, and fall asleep.
I wake to him jostling back and forth. “Charlie,” he moans my name.
“It’s okay,” I say reassuringly. “I’m here, Mark. Just open your eyes.”
He opens them both, but the other closes immediately. “Tell me something only you know. I need to know you’re real.”
“I hate sharks, and you made me go in that stupid water.”
He coughs. “Tell me what vineyard we went to.” His eyes close as he fights exhaustion.
“Keswick,” I say automatically.
“Glad you remember because I couldn’t.” He smirks.
The half giggle, half cry escapes my lips. He’s still my Mark. They may have hurt him, but they didn’t destroy him. Relief floods my heart as I gaze at him. I could’ve lost him. I almost did.
“I’m sorry for all of this.” I brush his hair back as I break down. “It’s the way it had to be. I couldn’t tell you anything. I was so lost, Mark. I was so intent on finding out more about my dad that I almost lost everything. I almost lost you.” I press my lips to his shoulder as I let it all out. Years of pain and stuffing it down come bubbling up. “I didn’t want to care about you. I knew this couldn’t be good, no matter what, but you pushed me and pushed me. You made me look at you like you were everything. You have to forgive me. You have to understand why I did it.”
“Charisma.” His hand finds my wrist and he grips it. “Stop.” My lips close as he struggles to open both eyes. “What is going on with you? You’re crying, which I didn’t know you could do, and you’re going on and on about other nonsense, and you wouldn’t take the damn medication. Why are you so worried? I’m here, I’m safe. You’re here, you’re relatively safe.”
In this moment, three words fill my world. “Because I love you, and you have to love me. I can’t lose you again. I don’t want to do this alone,” I say the words and all sense of time stops. I’m afraid he won’t love me anymore. I’m afraid he never did. I’m terrified that I’ve broken my only chance at a life I never dreamed of. I don’t know how to handle all these emotions. I don’t like them, either, if I’m being honest.
“Do what alone?”
“The rest of our life.”
“Then you should know how much I love you, Charisma Erickson.” He tightens his fingers around mine. “I would’ve died if it meant you’d live. When he told me they killed you, a part of me broke. When you pushed me away, I never knew pain like that. That beating . . .” He pauses and looks away. “Was nothing compared to the day I left you.”
I know what he means. The three weeks he was away were torture. I’ve been starved and made to do unthinkable things, but not knowing how to find him was the worst time of my life. I couldn’t do anything. I had to sit, wait, and hope to God the others found him. Mandi, Frank, and Dominic worked every angle while I fed them clues and remained completely hidden.
“You need to rest,” I say and then press my lips to his forehead.
“Charlie,” he rasps. “You’ve been shot. You need the same thing as me.”
“It’s nothing. I’m not bleeding anymore, and I took a Tylenol. You have to stay still. You have to listen to me.”
“Bullshit. You were just as freaked out as I was. I’m in bad shape, aren’t I?”
We both know that he needs a hospital. The extent of his damages could be far worse than we know, but for now, this is keeping him alive. It’s like plugging a tire with bubblegum. I pray this will be enough until I can get him real help. As soon as Mandi calls, we’ll be on our way there.
“It’s beyond my training. I’m doing what I can, but you’re covered in bruises, I don’t know if you have any damages I can’t see.”
“That’s because I was their punching bag. I much prefer when you hit me.” He tilts his head with a sly look.
He’s unreal. Even after all of this he can still joke. “Princess,” I say with love clear in my voice. “You can’t handle my jabs.”
“You hit like a girl.”
“You act like one,” I joke. This is normal. This is us.
“I’m tired again. What the hell did you put in this IV?”
“Pain killers, vitamins, and a lot of love.”
Mark lets out a short laugh. “Look at you.” His head falls to the side. “Being all romantic and shit. Maybe you should get shot more often.”
Idiot.
The thing is that he doesn’t see how unnerving this all was for me. “You don’t know how scared I was that he shot you. I don’t get scared, Mark. I live this life, this job, and I’ve known it my whole life. It’s all I’ve ever had. But everything is changing. Everything is different. You barreled your way into my world and forced me to love you against my will.”
Mark closes his eyes and expels a deep breath. “I thought you were caught by them. I thought you were being held, beaten, and then killed. I gave up at the end. I was willing to let them kill me because I failed you. Don’t think this wasn’t hard for me, baby. Don’t think you weren’t the only one who didn’t want to love. Because you aren’t. I knew the risks, but you’re worth the reward.”
I smile as my heart accelerates. Everything inside of me beams. “I need you to make me a promise.”
“Anything.”
“No matter how hard it gets, no matter how much I drive you insane, no matter the cost, I need you to keep fighting. I need you to give everything you have to be okay.”
His eyes both flutter open. “I’ll fight to the end of the earth for you.”
“Good.” I kiss his cheek. “You should know something.”
He gazes at me with apprehension. “I don’t have a good feeling about this . . .”
“It’s not bad, per se. It’s just, well, a little . . .” I stumble on my words. How the hell do I tell him we’re having a baby?
“What the hell did you do?”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you’re stuttering and have that guilty look.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
I’m not guilty. He was there for all this, too.
“I’m not the one acting like I did something wrong. Let me guess, you’re going to do something while I’m stuck here? Just like the old Charlie, so much for a team.”
Now I’m ready to punch him, but I clearly can’t. Indignation rises within, and the need to set him straight builds. I wanted to be delicate before. Now I no longer care. So, I spit it out the only way I can think of.
“No, you giant asshole. I was going to tell you that you knocked me up.”
He shifts to look at me better. “What?”
Not exactly how I planned this, but he should know. My eyes start to tear. These hormones are making me a hot mess. I close my eyelids, take a deep breath, and whisper the words, “I’m pregnant.”
I wait for some sign of emotion, some form of hostility or disappointment. The reaction any man would have to find out his girlfriend—if that’s what we are—is pregnant. I wait with nerves fluttering.
Instead, he does the opposite of what I expect. There’s no anger, accusation, or even a word. He simply looks content. Mark grips my hand, presses his lips to the top, and falls back asleep wearing a smile.
Smug little shit.