“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.

“It’s okay,” I say reassuringly. “I’m here, Mark. Just open your eyes.”

He opens them both, but the other closes immediately. “Tell me something only you know. I need to know you’re real.”

“I hate sharks, and you made me go in that stupid water.”

He coughs. “Tell me what vineyard we went to.” His eyes close as he fights exhaustion.

“Keswick,” I say automatically.

“Glad you remember because I couldn’t.” He smirks.

The half giggle, half cry escapes my lips. He’s still my Mark. They may have hurt him, but they didn’t destroy him. Relief floods my heart as I gaze at him. I could’ve lost him. I almost did.

“I’m sorry for all of this.” I brush his hair back as I break down. “It’s the way it had to be. I couldn’t tell you anything. I was so lost, Mark. I was so intent on finding out more about my dad that I almost lost everything. I almost lost you.” I press my lips to his shoulder as I let it all out. Years of pain and stuffing it down come bubbling up. “I didn’t want to care about you. I knew this couldn’t be good, no matter what, but you pushed me and pushed me. You made me look at you like you were everything. You have to forgive me. You have to understand why I did it.”

“Charisma.” His hand finds my wrist and he grips it. “Stop.” My lips close as he struggles to open both eyes. “What is going on with you? You’re crying, which I didn’t know you could do, and you’re going on and on about other nonsense, and you wouldn’t take the damn medication. Why are you so worried? I’m here, I’m safe. You’re here, you’re relatively safe.”

In this moment, three words fill my world. “Because I love you, and you have to love me. I can’t lose you again. I don’t want to do this alone,” I say the words and all sense of time stops. I’m afraid he won’t love me anymore. I’m afraid he never did. I’m terrified that I’ve broken my only chance at a life I never dreamed of. I don’t know how to handle all these emotions. I don’t like them, either, if I’m being honest.

“Do what alone?”

“The rest of our life.”

“Then you should know how much I love you, Charisma Erickson.” He tightens his fingers around mine. “I would’ve died if it meant you’d live. When he told me they killed you, a part of me broke. When you pushed me away, I never knew pain like that. That beating . . .” He pauses and looks away. “Was nothing compared to the day I left you.”

I know what he means. The three weeks he was away were torture. I’ve been starved and made to do unthinkable things, but not knowing how to find him was the worst time of my life. I couldn’t do anything. I had to sit, wait, and hope to God the others found him. Mandi, Frank, and Dominic worked every angle while I fed them clues and remained completely hidden.

“You need to rest,” I say and then press my lips to his forehead.

“Charlie,” he rasps. “You’ve been shot. You need the same thing as me.”

“It’s nothing. I’m not bleeding anymore, and I took a Tylenol. You have to stay still. You have to listen to me.”

“Bullshit. You were just as freaked out as I was. I’m in bad shape, aren’t I?”

We both know that he needs a hospital. The extent of his damages could be far worse than we know, but for now, this is keeping him alive. It’s like plugging a tire with bubblegum. I pray this will be enough until I can get him real help. As soon as Mandi calls, we’ll be on our way there.

“It’s beyond my training. I’m doing what I can, but you’re covered in bruises, I don’t know if you have any damages I can’t see.”

“That’s because I was their punching bag. I much prefer when you hit me.” He tilts his head with a sly look.