Defenseless (Salvation, #5)(79)

“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 *. 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.





We made it through the night with no major issues. I slept off and on, made sure Mark was comfortable, and kept an eye on my stitches. Mark slept like a log, and that grin never left his face. He hasn’t said a word, but there’s a sense of ease around him.

When I realized I was pregnant two weeks ago, I lost it. Apparently, the due date for my next shot was wrong on my calendar. I blame Mark for keeping me away from my house for so long, along with the ridiculous amount of sex.

Of course, I freaked out and went into denial. Then something happened. I started to smile when I saw myself in the mirror. I’m having a baby. A tiny person is growing inside me, and it’s ours. I then became even further obsessed with finding Mark. Mandi had to rein me in a few times because I started acting on pure emotion, but there was no way I was explaining to our child how his or her daddy never knew. No, I was finding him.

“Hey.” Mark shifts and smiles, which causes his lip to crack open and bleed.

“Don’t smile, you’ll keep reopening it.” I grab the gauze and clean him again.

He nods as if he’ll listen. “I’ll take the pain if I get to see your face when it happens.”

“Oh, good God. Now you’re being all romantic and shit.” I laugh and use his words against him.

He grips my wrist and stops me from tending the wound. “You can’t fault me, Charlie. We’ve had a rough few weeks.”

“Yeah, we have,” I agree.

Rough doesn’t even cover it, and we’re not out of the woods yet. If Christopher escaped somehow or talked his way out of this, we’re in grave danger. Plus, we now know that Christopher has knowledge of the person behind all of Cole Security’s troubles.

I have no doubt that if they have Christopher, they’re trying to extract the information. Aaron was going to handle the interrogation since he knows the most about Mazir and has the tidbits I provided. I hope by now Mandi is digging deeper because from what I was able to find, Christopher doesn’t have children. He never married either, so this has been well concealed.

We won’t even get into the crap I’m battling from being shot, and having a critically injured man. Oh, and I’m having a baby.

Seriously, you can’t make this stuff up, which reminds me that Mark still hasn’t said a word about the baby. “Are we going to talk about this? Do you remember what I said?”

“I remember everything, Charisma.” A thrill runs through me at the sound of my name from his lips. I never imagined how it would feel to share that with someone. “You’re having my baby, you love me, we’re getting married, and we’re going to stop all the bullshit and be a team.”

“I never said the last parts.”

“Don’t,” he groans.

“You, don’t. You’re going to heal, Mark. This isn’t me being difficult. This is me saying there’s no way in your condition, you can do anything.”

He starts to move and grabs for the IV.

My hand shoots out to stop him. “Are you crazy? You’re not out of the woods.”

“I need to go to the bathroom. See if I’m pissing blood. I need to make sure my kidneys are fine. They took a beating,” he explains, and I lower my eyes.

“I should’ve gotten you sooner. I should’ve walked in there and given myself to them.”