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.