Defenseless (Salvation, #5)(58)

“I texted Mandi,” I blurt it out and his eyes close.

“You did what?”

“She can help.”

He huffs and turns away. “I can’t even look at you. How could you do this? How could you text her?” Mark spins back to glare at me, and he’s screaming. “Do you want to get killed? Do you need me to lose my f*cking mind because something happens to you?”

I’ve never seen him like this. It’s as if I just destroyed him.

“Goddammit, Charlie! Did you think I was lying to you? That I was making this shit up for fun? The CIA is behind what happened to you.” He steps close. Every emotion plays across his face. He’s angry, that’s clear, but more than that . . . he’s hurt. “I can’t believe you.”

I need to explain this, because it makes sense. “Look, Mandi isn’t behind this. She would’ve never responded on that phone. There’s a bond between a handler and an operative. Something similar to what you and Jackson have! Why can’t you trust that I know what I’m doing?”

“Because you’re f*cking blind!” Mark adjusts himself and stalks off. “You know, I thought we were finally past all this. I thought we were a team. It changed for us that night. I saw it in your eyes, but then you ask me, I say no, and you do it anyway? Fuck you!”

“No, f*ck you!”

“Pretty sure you just f*cked us both, babe.” My anger boils.

“Did you hit your head? Eat lead paint off the crib?” I ask with sarcasm laced through my words. “You keep putting your foot in your mouth.”

He runs his hands down his face. “You confuse the shit out of me!”

“And you piss me off!”

“Right back at you, babe!”

I start to head out of the water. I’m not about to let him scream at me. His hand grips my shoulder and he turns me. “You’re leaving?”

“I’m done arguing with you. I’m not going to justify myself. I’ve been doing this a long time. I know you feel one way, but I disagree.”

“You disagree?” he scoffs. “You disagree that you were drugged in DC at a function? Or maybe that only you were targeted? That the waiter doesn’t exist on any paperwork, and the other waiter who was supposed to attend is nowhere to be found? I’m not making any of this up! I’ve been investigating it, and all roads lead to one place.”

My mouth falls slightly agape. Okay, but that proves nothing. “And you think Mandi is involved?”

Mark groans and lifts his gaze skyward. “I think every person in your agency from your handler to your boss is a suspect. I’m pretty sure your brain is working overtime here, but you’re so stubborn you refuse to admit that you betrayed me. Me! The person who has been nothing but honest with you. Take all the other bullshit aside and see what you’ve done to me.”

“Do you think I want this right now? No! I don’t!” I inform him. “I don’t want anything to happen to either of us. But you’re out of your damn mind if you think I entered this carelessly. You dragged me on a plane to California to prove that Jackson was loyal.”

His jaw clenches. Fury radiates from him. “You—” He stops. “I—” He stops again.

“Sucks not being in control for once, huh?”

He steps forward but stops when we’re eye to eye. I wait for his typical mode of shutting me up, but he stands here. His nostrils flare and a storm rages in his eyes. I can see how angry he is.

“This isn’t about control. This is about you and me. This is about you going behind my back for how long? How many other times have you lied to me?”

I open my mouth to speak but close it before I say something I can’t take back.

“How many times have you told me something but it was just some twisted version of your truth?”

“Are you serious right now? I’ve been honest with you.”

“How many?” he yells.

I glare at him, ready to rip his throat out. “So much for not betraying me. You stupid idiot! I trusted you. I gave you something no one else has ever had. I gave you my name! If that isn’t a sign of how much I trusted you, I don’t know what is. Then, you treat me like I’ve been lying about everything? Fuck you!” Instead of allowing him to answer, I turn and leave him standing there.

“Don’t walk away from me!” he yells.

Instead of responding, I lift my middle finger in the air and head out of the water.

Once I reach the shoreline, I turn back. He hasn’t followed. No, Mark turned away, faced the vast ocean, and let me go. It hurts me, more than I care to admit. Knowing that he’s so upset—so ridiculous about me doing my job—breaks me apart.

I won’t let him hurt me. I won’t allow anyone to tear me down until I’m one of those girls. He won’t penetrate the remainder of my heart. Except . . . he already has. If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t be this distraught.

When I bend down to grab my clothes, a tear falls. I hate that he’s now made me cry twice. No more. I wrap a towel around my wet body and trudge back to his house without looking back.

I check my phone and notice a new text.

Mandi: You need to come back to DC. I have something. Text me when you are in a safe place.

I call a cab, pack the rest of my things, and wait. He doesn’t return before I’m done, thank God, but that also says it all. If I were worth anything, he’d have followed. I thought things were different between us. I truly thought he loved me. Steel cages surround me and protect me from the pain. I won’t allow myself to feel it. Instead, I focus on what’s in store for me. I have a man to hunt down, and by doing so, I’ll hopefully save Mark. That can be my parting gift to him.