Page 18 of Damaged

“How so?”

“I’ll tell you about it when you get here. Why don’t you bring Wrath when you come?” Quick suggested. “He can relax and get well here.”

“How do you know his name?” Rogue squeezed the wheel; he had never told Quick.

Quick snorted into the phone. “He kills people for a living.”

“Okay, so…you know about them...” Rogue kept his voice even.

“Erebus? I do.”

Which made sense when Rogue thought about it. Quick did work for Phoenix, a covert unit that reported to the former SecDef, but still, he was curious.

“How? When?”

“I’ll tell you when I see you,” Quick said with a chuckle.

“Okay. I’ll ask him,” Rogue murmured, thinking of having Wrath with him on the spur-of-the-moment trip made his stomach jump.

That meant he’d have to search out Wrath again.

Heat raced through him at the memory of their kiss.

That fucking kiss.

The one that had rocked his world.

One week later.

Wrath’s good morning text came in at six forty-nine and he clutched the phone, staring at the words.

No emojis accompanied the words anymore, but Rogue would take whatever he could get.

He kept reliving their kiss and his cock remained in a semi-state of perpetual hardness no matter how much he jerked off. Fuck, he was losing it, he groaned internally.

He’d gone to the hospital the very next day to take Wrath home, only to find out that the man had already been discharged.

He also thought that maybe when he trained Azrael, Wrath would be there, but that was not the case.

Gazing over at the large room in the Erebus facility, Rogue watched Azrael swing the swords. “Widen your stance, bend your knees more to improve your balance when you lunge.”

Azrael quickly complied with his instructions and continued with the arching moves he’d been going over the past two days.

Rogue planned on training twice a week. That would give the boy time to recover from muscle strain from wielding theswords. Although they were light, the strength to swing them took time to build up.

Out of breath and covered in sweat, Azrael stopped swinging, laid the swords on the mat, and bent over with his hands braced on his knees. They’d been at it for a couple of hours.

“Let’s call it,” Rogue said.

“I can go longer.”

“You want to be able to move tomorrow. What if you get a job?”

“Fat chance of that.” Azrael scowled. “Savage says I’m not ready.”

“Are you?” Rogue countered, walking over to lift the swords and return them to their sheaths. He kept the swords with him, just in case Azrael got it into his head that he was ready to use them for real.

“I worked for Solomon.”

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