Page 41 of Damaged

The teenager was already halfway across the backyard, but Wrath was fucking fast and caught ahold of the boy’s jacket.

They had reached the back fence when the kid was pulled to a stop, and Wrath spun the teen and shoved him up against the tall back fence.

When Wrath stepped back, the kid pulled a knife and lunged. Wrath knocked the blade away. It toppled to the grass.

Gasping, the boy clutched at his wrist and Wrath knew it had to be throbbing. Next, the teen kicked out at him. Wrath blocked the kick and planted his hand into the kid’s chest.

“Rebel?”

The boy’s pupils expanded when his name was called, and panting, Rebel stared up at him. The boy reminded him of Echo. All dark hair and slender build with maybe one of hisparents being of Asian descent—like all of Tanis’ boys, Rebel was gorgeous.

“I won’t go back to Tanis!” Rebel snarled. “I’ll kill myself first!”

The words were filled with anger that bordered on rage and so much fear and pain that a knot grew in Wrath’s throat. His voice was gruff when he spoke.

“Tanis and Solomon are dead.”

“You’re lying,” Rebel spat, distrust clear in the boy’s eyes.

“I’m not. Azrael killed Solomon and another man killed Tanis.”

“You know Azrael?” Rebel tipped his chin up, dark fire spewing from his angry brown gaze, but there was hope in there.

The boy was all bravado, but Wrath knew that attitude had served him well on the streets.

“Yes, I do. And I know his twin brother, Apollo, and their friend, Cash.”

“Do you know Rogue?”

“I do.”

Rebel crossed his arms, tipped his head slightly to the side to measure him with an untrusting gaze.

“Rogue is busy at the moment, but I can take you to see Azrael, Apollo, and Cash. They have a place with plenty of room for you.”

The boy’s expression was indecisive as if he wanted to stay and believe him on one hand and run and disappear on the other. The war was clearly written on his face.

Wrath had to search his brain for all the boys who were about Rebel’s age, but he wanted to give Rebel names he would recognize.

“Do you know Boston and Beck?” he said.

“Yeah, I know them and Mouse,” Rebel whispered.

Wrath sighed and let his hand fall away from where he had a grip on Rebel’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Mouse was killed.”

“Who killed him?” A sheen of resignation hit the teen’s eyes—as if he was no longer surprised that the ones closest to him were dying.

“Blue did. Blue’s now dead.”

“Good! I hated that fucker.” Rebel squeezed his hands into fists.

“Are you two coming in to eat?” Mrs. Jackson called from the back porch.

Wrath glanced from Rebel to her and then back to Rebel. “How about we eat and then I’ll take you to your friends.”

Rebel searched his gaze. “I hope you aren’t lying to me.”

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