He also knew Fisher hadn’t and that was because they had history.
Albeit a short one, but they’d been intimate and they’d had a budding friendship before all this had gone down. It was the only thing that was keeping Fisher from killing him.
The murderous rage in the man’s gaze wasn’t hard to miss.
“What did you do, Justice? Huh?” Fisher shoved him in the chest, yelling the odd question.
“I…”
“You fucker! What did you do!” Fisher launched forward, but Rogue was there lifting the slender man off of his feet.
Fisher turned lethal, but Rogue held on even when Fisher bloodied the man’s nose by throwing back his head.
Fisher kicked and screamed with a low fury, but Rogue wasn’t letting go.
A sting burned in Justice’s eyes and he lifted his shocked eyes from Fisher to Rogue.
“Get the hell out of here. You’ve done enough,” Rogue growled.
The sounds ripping from Fisher’s throat turned hoarse and even though there were no discernible words, Justice couldn’t mistake the rage.
A few people opened their windows in the apartment building, stepping out onto junk-crowded balconies.
“What’s going on down there?” someone shouted.
Time was up.
He needed to retreat.
“Take care of him.” The words sounded guttural, but he couldn’t help that.
Fisher stopped struggling and stared at him with anger-filled eyes, all that dark hair wild.
Walking backward, Justice held the man’s eyes.
He wanted to explain, but Fisher wasn’t going to hear him right now.
Retreat and reassess.
Give Fisher time.
This battle may have been lost, but he planned on winning the war.
So, he walked away when everything inside of him wanted to stay.
Fisher was shaking…he’d never lost it like that before.
“Was it Justice who did it?” Whatever the fuck it had been.
Rogue stayed quiet, but after a long moment, the man finally spoke.
“Yeah.”
Fucking shit!
Rogue’s answer gave him an idea of just how much Justice had probably hurt him. His chest felt heavy, his insides twisted, and he wanted to disappear.
Rogue squeezed him firmly.