Page 52 of Damaged

“I’ll handle it,” he told Savage and ended the phone call.

Instead of continuing down Highway 14 towards Dave’s place, he would catch the 58 to Bakersfield. According to Maps, it would take him roughly three and a half hours to reach San Lucas.

Right now, his biggest regret was not texting Rogue back when he had had the chance. Now, he couldn’t risk it because it might compromise the man’s location.

He kept a death grip on the wheel and reminded himself that Rogue was a killer and it would take an army to take the man down.

Or a bullet. He sucked in a gulp of air and punched the gas, the SUV flew down the road, but after a moment, he eased off the gas a bit.

“Are we going after them?” Rebel gazed at him from the passenger seat.

“Reach into the glove compartment and push the inside button located in the far right back,” Wrath said instead of answering.

Without another word, Rebel followed his instructions, and a separate compartment opened beyond the gloved compartment. In there were several handguns.

“Choose whichever one you want and load it.”

Rebel selected a nine-millimeter, slapped a clip home, and tucked another clip into his coat. Just the way the teenager handled the weapon told Wrath the boy was experienced.

Good, he was going into an unknown situation.

“Why did it take you so long in Jeff’s room?” Rebel asked.

He was wondering when Rebel would get around to asking about that and he didn’t censor his words.

“I made him feel it.”

It hadn’t started out that way, but when he spotted duct tape on the dresser along with a whip and chains, he had used Jeff’s own equipment against him. Slapping tape on the fucker’smouth to muffle screams, Wrath had used the duct tape, then emasculated the guy while holding a pillow over his head to further muffle any sounds.

Wrath had jerked the pillow away and leaned in the fucker’s face. “You fucked with the wrong kid,” he whispered and slit the man’s throat.

The fury he felt knowing the man had raped Rebel had somewhat subsided, but now…knowing that Rogue was out there being hunted by a fucking gang had that same fury rising.

“Good. I hope he felt every fucking thing,” Rebel said tightly, and it took Wrath a moment to snap out of his red haze.

“He did. Trust me.”

The skies opened up and rain dumped onto the wet road.

Wrath flipped on the windshield wipers and kept the SUV between five to ten miles over the top speed limit. The last thing he wanted was to get pulled over.

Hang on, Rogue, I’m coming.

The silent litany ran over and over in his head.

Rebel was quiet. It was one of the things he liked about the younger man.

They reached San Lucas and Wrath sent a text to Savage. When the man got the ping on Rogue’s last known location, Wrath drove a ways out of the city and found the gas station where Rogue had filled up his truck. It took a hundred bucks to get the gas station attendant to let him view the video feed of the parking lot.

The guy along with both him and Rebel watched as Rogue filled up while Boston went inside. The pair drove away unbothered.

Making his way back to his SUV, Wrath slid behind the wheel.

“So, they made it out of here and could be anywhere on the road,” Rebel said, snapping his seatbelt.

Wrath had missed a call from Savage, but in the next instance, a text came through.

Crow found Rogue. They are at or near a diner just down the road from the gas station.

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