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you?” Jack asked. “Why are you being so argumentative?”
    “Because I’m sick and tired of people lying to me.”
    “What the fuck are you talking about?”
    “Something happened to you . . . something more than this supposed lack of appetite,” Maia said angrily. “Did you get sick?”
    Jack’s shoulders slumped. “Yeah, Maia, I had a bad case of bronchitis. I didn’t want you to worry, babe.”
    Maia’s nostrils flared. “Wrong answer. Pull up your shirt.”
    “What? Why?”
    “Pull up your shirt.”
    “No. What the hell is wrong with you, Maia?” Jack said. But his body language spoke of an uneasiness.
    “What’s wrong with me?” Maia repeated. “You’re scared to come near me. You wouldn’t let me hug you, or have my hands under your shirt.”
    “I’m afraid to hurt you.”
    “Bull!”
    “Goddamn it, Maia.”
    “Raise your fucking shirt.”
    “NO!”
    “What are you hiding?” Maia demanded. “And if you say nothing again, you can leave this room and never come back.”
    Maia glared at her husband, who stood scowling at her. A nurse appeared by the doorway, alarmed by the sudden spike in her heart rate.
    “You need to calm down, babe,” Jack said gently. He looked at the nurse. “I got this.”
    The nurse looked at him disapprovingly before huffing off.
    Jack exhaled sharply. “I got abducted the day you were shot.”
    “What?”
    “I was scrambling to get to AGS after I heard about the attack on your convoy. They got the jump on me in the MDI parking garage. Shot me with tranq darts.”
    Maia felt a lump forming in her throat. “How long?”
    “Three weeks.”
    Maia’s eyes filled with tears.
    “Aw, hell,” Jack muttered. “See that’s exactly why—”
    “Let me see, Jack,” Maia whispered.
    Her husband’s lips pressed into a straight line; he regarded her for a beat before lifting his shirt. Maia’s throat burned and she started crying. Jack’s torso was black and blue with splotches of yellow from older bruises. It was also riddled with burn marks. Tortured. Her husband had been tortured.
    “Damn it,” Jack swore. “I’m okay, Maia. I’m here now, aren’t I? Nothing is broken, and I’m not the one who fucking nearly died.”
    He got close to her this time and hugged her. Maia continued crying.
    “You should leave me,” Maia said through her tears. “I shouldn’t have gotten involved with you. What was I thinking?”
    “Stop talking that way before I beat the crap out of you,” Jack mumbled into her hair.
    Maia had to laugh at that. “What?”
    “I’m serious, Maia. Stop thinking that way. I’m in love with you. For better or worse, remember?”
    “I’m certain this wasn’t the worse those vows were talking about. Me shot in the gut; you abducted and beaten up,” Maia said.
    Jack pulled away from her. His eyes were back to normal now—warm, tender, and loving her. Maybe the weight of keeping that secret from her was the one taking its toll on him.  
    “Regardless, Mrs. McCord.” Jack started peppering her face with little kisses. “I’m here. In love. Deeply. Irrevocably.”
    He straightened up and grabbed the bowl of porridge and began feeding her. “Now eat.”
    “Were you eating rice porridge too because your stomach couldn’t digest well?”
    “Yes,” Jack said. “But it’s better. I ate some chicken yesterday. I wasn’t lying when I said I really liked rice porridge.”
    Maia scrunched her nose, not really believing her husband.
    She was happy to see that Jack had eaten two servings of the boiled dish. It broke her heart to imagine what he’d been through. But he seemed quite resilient. Maia’s lips quirked. How could she forget? Her husband was an ex-Navy SEAL. It was believed if one could survive “Hell Week” during SEALs training, one could survive anything.
    “Jack, do you know why Viktor has not come to see me?” Maia asked.
    Her husband froze, his jaw clenching.
    Maia sighed. “You didn’t blame him for me getting