Defenseless (Salvation, #5)(77)

“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.