Page 35 of Damaged

“Are you here to look at the room for rent?” she asked, taking in the casual attire they’d purchased from the second-hand store a few miles away.

“How much is the rent?” Wrath smiled, turning on the charm. He placed a hand on Rogue’s back and urged him farther into the front hallway.

“It’s twelve hundred a month. You have access to the entire house, your own bathroom, plus the pool out back,” she told them, leading the way into the large, nicely decorated interior. “There’s a washer and dryer in the garage along with gym equipment. Oh, and dinner meals are included.”

“That’s a steal for twelve hundred,” Rogue said.

She laughed. “It is, but this also serves as a halfway house, so I keep the prices down.”

“Ah, I see,” Wrath said, gazing out the patio doors at the sparkling pool.

“Is that a problem?”

“No, it’s no problem,” Rogue assured her. “How many people live here?”

“Right now, I have three.”

“Can we think about it?” Wrath asked.

“Of course.” She led the way back to the front entryway. “But don’t take too long.”

“What if we came back around dinner sometime and met the rest of the tenants,” Wrath asked.

“Absolutely! How about tomorrow night? I’ll cook extra.”

They left and she waved when they drove away.

“I saw a Hilton hotel a few miles back, let’s get a room there. That way we can…relax,” Rogue suggested, sliding his gaze over him.

Wrath’s cock twitched.

“Relaxing…sounds good.”

He squeezed the steering wheel; he wanted to fuck Rogue and be fucked.

It was a good damned thing that he’d thrown the condoms and lube in his go bag before they had left his house.

It would save time.

When Rogue’s phone rang later that night, it was more of an irritation than anything and he groggily snatched it up to swipe at the screen.

Fucker, whoever it was, he scowled. He had managed to get two hours of uninterrupted sleep—which was almost unheard of.

Rogue rolled over, keeping his voice low to avoid waking Wrath, who was sprawled asleep at his side.

“Hello?” His voice came through all scratchy and shit.

“Hey, motherfucker, I have one of your boys.”

“Jagger?” He recognized the voice.

“Yeah.”

Rogue was suddenly thrown into the past when he, Jagger, and Quick had hung out about five years ago. Jagger was a ball buster while Quick was the quieter of the pair. Not that they were a pair or anything like that.

Like him, Jagger was a loner but had taken him along when it was discovered that they were all after the same child molester.

Rogue had been working for Solomon at the time. How fucking ironic was that? Solomon sold boys to a child molesterand then sent him on jobs to kill them. It had all been for appearances, though. He knew that.

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