Defenseless (Salvation, #5)(74)

“Since I’m going to die, might as well tell me.”

He chuckles and lifts his arm back up. “Not a chance. You’re going to die completely in the dark.”

This is it. He’s done talking, and so am I. My body tenses as I prepare for my final chance to end this.

I think of Charlie, how she would’ve fought to the end. I think of Jackson, Natalie, Catherine, Liam, and Aaron . . . I think of my mother, Garrett, and how they’ll suffer, but they’ll know this wouldn’t have been in vain. They’ll find Charlie’s information because of the tips I left for Frank. Hopefully, he found my note and discovered who these sons of bitches are.

His left eye closes, and his finger tightens on the trigger. I lunge.

The sound rings through the air, but I keep going. Nothing will stop me.

Blood spills everywhere. All I see is red, but I charge forward. Another pop goes off, but I have nothing left.

My legs go out and I crumble to the ground on top of him.

This is what dying feels like.

Weightless, numb, and calm.





Charlie

“Wake up!” I slap his face. “Mark, baby, you have to get up! We have to get the hell out of here!”

He’s almost unrecognizable.

Nothing could’ve prepared me for this.

There are so many broken bones, so much blood and bruising. His pulse is weak, but he’s alive. Tears threaten to pool, but I don’t have time to cry. I need to get him out of here. Bloodstains cover his clothing as I rip it open to see if he was hit.

His entire chest is painted in bruises—every inch is yellow, purple, blue, or black. “What did they do to you?” I choke on the words.

“Charlie, we have maybe three minutes before they light up the place,” Mandi yells as she peers down the hall. “There’s no time.”

“I’m not leaving him!” I grab water, pour it down his throat, and then splash some on his face. “Come on, Mark. Look at me!” My voice isn’t my own. I’m near hysterics, but he’s not responding. “Get Jackson in here!”

“You did this to him,” Christopher Asher taunts. “All of this is because of you.”

I turn to him and raise my weapon. “Don’t say another word or I’ll put a bullet between your eyes before anyone can protect you. I’ll end your pathetic excuse for a life, and smile while doing it. But I’ll shoot you in about ten other places first. I’ll make you cry, suffer, and beg for me to stop.”

“Charlie,” Mandi warns. “We need him.”

“Get Jackson,” I say while I lower my gun.

Mandi nods and then rushes from the room as I hold Mark’s head in my lap. “I’m so sorry. They hid you so well. It took us a little time, but we finally found him. I’m here for you. Just you. Please, I love you.” I let the tears fall this time. I can’t stop them. One drops down my face, landing on his cheek. “I love your stupid pain in the ass, and I need you to open your eyes.”

My hands roam his body for a bullet wound. Christopher fired, but we got a shot off first. I still have no idea if he was hit. I’m running on pure fear and adrenaline.

Mandi and I got in just in time, and then the jackass almost ruined everything by lunging at Christopher. As soon as I saw the light flick in his eyes, I knew I had to move. Mark was done with the charade of talking, and so was Christopher. I’ve felt that same final burst of spirit enter my eye, the one that means it’s time to end it.

We were able to penetrate the warehouse pretty easily. They were cocky, and I used that weakness. We cuffed the three guys on the outside, and only Christopher was with Mark. Once I breached the door, Mandi took the first shot and hit Christopher in the shoulder. Mark went unconscious as soon as their bodies collided, so I pray Christopher’s bullet missed.

“Is he okay?” Jackson is frantic as he rushes towards us. “No! Is he?” Jackson can’t even say the words. He steps forward and gets a glimpse of his body. “Please tell me . . . he’s—”

“He’s breathing, but he won’t wake up. We have to move him and get cleared out before the next part of the plan happens.”

“You think you’ll get away with this? You’re done.” Christopher yells from his position tied to the chair.

“Shut up!” I glare at him. Everything in me wants to kill him, but I’d much rather he suffers for his sins. Killing him would be a gift.

He chuckles. “I trained you better than this. Your father was an idiot, and so are you. You think you have this all figured out?” He laughs again. “I have friends everywhere. Friends who you think are on your side, but you’re a puppet, and I hold the strings.”

I walk forward and slam my fist across his mouth. “I said, shut up!”

He spits blood at my feet, but of course, he won’t stop. “You’ll end up six feet under.”

Now it’s my turn to laugh. “You couldn’t find me before. You’re weak, and I have what you want. What you’ll never understand is that I win.” I rear back and punch him once more. I want to make him look half as bad as Mark. My foot lifts and I slam it into his stomach. The force of my kick throws the chair off balance, and he lands on his back. I step forward and press my boot to the side of his face. I use my weight to smash his face against the concrete.