Defenseless (30 page)

“A
gain!” he yells as they take turns punching me in the sides. My arms are tied above my head, and I can just rest my weight on my toes if I try.

It’s been at least three days, maybe more. I’m dehydrated, weak, and beaten. I’ll never let them see me break, though.

“Now, we know you’ve seen the file. We know she shared it with you, so what was in it.”

“Who do I have to blow to get a cheeseburger?” I reply. I saw a page of the file—
one
page—but I’ll never tell them anything. They’ll have to kill me. I would never betray Charlie. I love her, and if she’s willing to die for this, so am I.

He steps forward and hits me himself.

“Fuck!” I scream while I start to cough. My lungs ache from that one. Shit.

“This can all stop, you know. We’ll let you go, tell you who is causing all the problems with your friends, and this will become a distant memory.”

“What about a milkshake?” I smile through the bloody lip, even though it hurts like a bitch. “French fries?”

Breaking my body, fine. Breaking my smartass ways, not happening.

“I think you could rot for a few days in the hole.”

Yeah, like that’s something new.

Another one of the assholes punches my kidneys and the stabbing pain intensifies.

“Show me Charlie, and I’ll draw you a map,” I lie. But I need to see her. If they’re doing this to me, I can’t imagine how she’s surviving. On the other hand, they need her. That’s all I have to hold on to.

Plastic fuckface punches me in the nose, and the snap lets me know it’s broken. Blood trickles downward, the metallic taste seeping into my mouth. If I’m bleeding, I’m living. As long as pain remains, I know I’m surviving. So I welcome it.

Agent Smith walks close. “I’ve seen men cave. I’ve made people cry for their God and their mothers. We’re only beginning, so I hope you’re ready for a long and painful road.”

“Let’s hear it for the good guys.” I give him the best smirk I can muster.

“Beat him a little more and then throw him in the hole,” he instructs.

I imagine Charlie’s face. How she smiled, her blue eyes that shone so brightly. She holds me to this world. Her face is my absolution. Her love is my reprieve. If she’s alive, then I will fight. She’s worth every bruise, scar, and broken bone. Our love is true and honest, and true love doesn’t fail, it triumphs.

“Nice to see you again.” Agent Smith bites into a cheeseburger.

I hope he chokes on it.

“It’s a great day to be alive, huh?” He tosses some fries in his mouth and washes it all down with a milkshake.

I have no concept of time. It could be a day, a week, or a month since I was brought here, and I wouldn’t know. All I can see is black. No light, no air, just complete confinement, it’s like being buried alive. But I saw her. Every time I felt alone, she was with me. Telling me she was okay and that I had to keep going. It’s funny, in all my years of training, I never had something to hold on to. Someone or something that I used to get me through. I have that now, and I lost her.

That I’m in this room, not bound, not being beaten, tells me they won. However, they’ll never overtake me. I don’t care if they wave that goddamn file in my face, I’ll never give up—for her.

When all you have is time with your own thoughts, you realize what’s important. You see your life for what it was, how it could’ve been—the mistakes, and the promises if you survive. People are important, not things or possessions. I’ll be a better man, brother, son, and someday . . . husband. I’ll stop fighting everyone and everything. I won’t take the little time we have for granted, because this will all end one day. My days are numbered; I see that now. Right now, all I have is faith that I’ll get the chance to right my wrongs.

“Why am I here now?”

He takes another bite and my mouth waters. I’m fucking starving. “Hungry?”

“I’m on a diet.”

The stupid bastard laughs. “This will be your last chance. Your body is shutting down. There’s no fight left in your eyes, Mark. This could all be over. I could get you some food, a shower, clean clothes. All I need is for you to help me.”

“I’d rather die. You should know, when I make it through this, I plan to kill each and every last one of you.”

“You couldn’t fight your way out of a paper bag at this point. But I appreciate your tenacity. You would’ve made a fantastic operative.” He stands and places his gun on the table with his hand hovering over it. “I’m sorry it’ll all end like this. I liked you, but my son didn’t.”

Son?
What the ever-loving hell is going on? “Who the hell is your son, and what does any of this have to do with a file or me?” I’m not sure if I’m hallucinating this entire situation, but I find any ounce of strength I have left. I need that gun. I have to end this. Then he’ll see how it feels to be at my mercy.

As if the prick can read my thoughts, he leans back.

“I could tell you, but that would ruin the fun.” We stare at each other for a beat. “I hope you see your girlfriend in hell, since I killed her in this very chair not even an hour ago. She pleaded for your life, but I think it’s only fair you’re reunited”

My heart stops. She can’t be dead. I couldn’t have failed her.

He lifts the gun.

I’ve been in this situation before, but this time it’s different. The world becomes a little sharper. Nothing slows, instead everything comes into focus. I see her clear as day. Her blue eyes, her dark brown hair, the way her face always looks as if she’s ready to take on the world. My Charisma. I knew she would own me the minute I laid eyes on her. There was nothing tying us together, but I felt secured. No matter what, she’ll be the last name I utter, and the last thing I see when I close my eyes. But that moment isn’t now. He ripped her away from me, and I’m going to end him. I’m going to make him pay for ever hurting her.

I fought because I thought she was alive. If she’s gone . . . I’ll follow her.

Rage fills me.

The need to destroy him overpowers any self-preservation I have left. I won’t let them take me like this. I will never surrender.

Before I can think, I’m rushing toward him as though I’m a rabid animal. I’ll go down fighting. I’ll draw blood because he ruined the reason I exist. She’s the air I breathe, the reason my heart beats, and I never got to tell her.

Shock registers in his eyes before I lunge for the gun. “You son of a bitch!” I shout as my hand connects with the barrel.

My hands move to grab the gun. I battle with all I have. Somehow, I manage to get it out of my face. I’m weak and he pushes me off easily. I step back with my arms lifted. “Look, I don’t know where the hell the file is. I’ve been beaten, starved, beaten again. Don’t you think by this point you’d have the file?”

“What makes you think she didn’t tell us everything?” His arm raises again as he takes the sight. I’m about to die at the hands of the CIA.

“Then why kill me?” I ask. I need to keep him talking.

I shuffle to the right with my hands still up in the air. We circle as I think of a way to extend this conversation. His arm drops slightly and relief seeps through. No, fuck that. I can’t afford relief. This guy will kill me the second he has a chance. My legs keep going, but I’m so tired. I don’t know how long I can keep this up.

“Because you know too much. You didn’t really think you’d make it out of here, did you? Let’s be real. You know what I look like, and you’ve probably pieced together who I am. But then, you still don’t know who is behind all of your misfortunes. Such a shame.”

“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

“W
ake 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.”