Page 53 of Damaged

Beneath the pouring rain, Rogue walked silently through the damp underbrush and trees.

Locating Boston before Smalls and his hoard did was his goal. He suspected they had put a tracker on the boy.

Or they had been watching when he arrived at the property and put a locator on his truck. There might be another reason, but at this point, it didn’t matter.

Smalls had tracked Boston and now it was a race to see who got to the boy first.

He heard them laughing in victory and some of them whooped loudly once they discovered they were on foot—as if being so meant they were easy prey.

Him being on foot wouldn’t matter. He’d take them out one at a time. There was nothing but death waiting for them here.

Rogue picked up the trail behind two of the men looking at their phones and moving through the woods in a straight direction. Both men carried guns, one a pistol, the other a shotgun.

He needed that phone. Tucking away his weapon, he pulled out his twin carving knives and silently moved up behind them.

His first strike sliced open one man’s neck. The fucker dropped, clutching his throat. Rogue ducked low when the other one swung around, gun raised. Rogue reared up out of the darkness and stuck the end of his blade in the man’s temple. The gun dropped to the ground and Rogue withdrew his knife. The man toppled to the ground.

Rogue snagged the phone, held it to the dead man’s face, and stared at the open map with the flashing red light.

In seconds, he was on the move.

Two down, seven to go. Having killed some of them, he would need to kill them all. It was at times like this that he wished hedidwork for Erebus. After eliminating this gang, he could make a phone call and have Savage send in cleaners to make everything disappear.

Fuck it. He’d leave the bodies to rot.

Maybe not. Maybe Wrath could call the cleaners for him.

That wasif…he called Wrath.

“Leave me alone!”

Boston’s shout came from a short distance away and Rogue changed his plan. There was no sense in rushing in there and getting them both dead.

It was only when the sound of vehicles starting up had him racing toward the clearing.

Fuck!

The assholes had vehicles parked in the woods not far from the diner.

He studied the heavily mudded tire tracks leading farther into the woods and ran back for his truck.

He found the vehicles empty at the end of the muddy tracks with footsteps leading further into the woods.

Stupid fuckers.

Now all he needed to do was wait for the right moment to take them out.

One or two at a time.

Right now, he needed to stay hidden, and he reversed his truck and parked it a quarter mile away to backtrack on foot and pick up the trail.

He found the homestead that consisted of a house, an outbuilding, and something resembling a barn. Hunkering down, he waited patiently and double-checked the cell phone signal that was telling him Boston’s whereabouts.

A nearby sound reached him, and Rogue clicked the light off the phone. He stilled, melting back into the trees, staying in the dark.

When the man stepped closer, Rogue realized the guy hadn’t been with the gang. One reason was that the guy moved too slowly and carefully, like a trained killer. But also, the guy was dressed in all black.

“Freeze, fucker,” Rogue hissed when the guy stepped parallel to him.

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