My body reacts on pure instinct. I surge to my feet, ready to pummel this motherfucker. “If you touch her . . . If she comes back to me in any condition less than the last time I laid eyes on her, you’ll see just how much you underestimated me. Take me to Charlie.”

He looks over toward the window then back to me. “All humans have a flaw. They’re naturally imperfect. It’s my job to find the flaw and scratch it until it bleeds.”

Here we go with this ridiculous monologue again.

“Do you know your flaw, Mr. Dixon?”

“I’m sure you’re just dying to tell me.” I roll my eyes. This guy is a tool.

Agent Smith walks forward, and I stand prepared. He’s about to make his move. I’m ready to ruin his clothes.

“I’m going to enjoy scratching your flaw.”

Instead of him grabbing me like I expect, I hear a zing through the air before something pinches my neck.

Everything goes numb, before it goes black.

“Where is the file?” he yells.

Fuck! My head is pounding. I feel as if I’ve been sucking on cotton balls, and could someone dim the damn lights? I sit bound to a cold metal chair. One day I’ll learn to keep my mouth shut.

Agent Smith, or whatever his name is, sits across the table of this nasty warehouse. “Where did she hide it?”

“That’s a fantastic question. Where is Charlie?”

He stands and then moves around so we’re face to face. “The file or we kill her.”

Like I would tell him even if I knew. “I thought you might say that, but those are my terms. I want Charlie or you get nothing.” His fist connects with my jaw and pain shoots through me. “That wasn’t very nice.” I try to right my jaw. He punches me again. I spit the blood right at him. Stupid shithead. “How about you untie me and we see who the real man is here?”

“Tell me where she hid it.”

I look around to get any bearings, but there are black curtains over the windows so I have no idea if it’s day or night. A single light bulb hangs over the table, but the scary part is the amount of blood on the floor. This is a place where people come to die.

I’m so fucked. All I can hope is that someone notices I’m not in contact, or Frank finds the scrap of paper I left.

Another man steps forward wearing a clear plastic mask. He doesn’t say a word as he throws down a black doctor bag.

“You look pretty.”

His dark eyes squint and his voice is muffled. “You’re about to find out if she’ll still love you after you have some cosmetic work.”

I smirk. “I always wanted a nose job. Is this a request thing, or a whatever you feel like doing thing?”

“He told us you had a flair for the dramatics.”

Who is he? My eyes widen at the morsel of information. Of course, they see it.

Agent Stupid Arrogant Prick speaks first. “Oh, you’d like to know something? Do you know why you’re here, Mark Dixon, Chief Petty Officer Special Warfare? Do you know why all of the men you’re friends with suffer and will continue to even though you’ll be dead? I bet you’d like to know that.” He picks his nails.

The smug bastard sits there with a grin.

“Maybe if you cooperate, I’ll exchange the name of the person behind all your misfortunes.”

I have to stay alive. I have to think through this entire situation because once they make one tiny mistake, they’re done.

“Funny, I don’t believe a word you say.”

“Have it your way.” He huffs as if I’m bothering him. “Lights out.”

The clear mask freak jabs something into my thigh, but before I can make a sound, everything goes dark.

“Again!” 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.