Page 9 of Damaged

“No thanks, I have to go.”

“But you just got here,” Wrath gave a small sad pull of his lips and sighed.

“You got that handled?” Rogue asked with an abrupt nod at his bloody side where Wrath had wadded up a dirty rag from Rogue’s truck floor to stem the flow of blood.

“Yeah, I was a Navy medic. I think I can handle a knife wound.”

“That’s good because I’ve told you to steer clear of me.”

Wrath stared into Rogue’s gray eyes, trying to see beyond the words, but he found only coldness.

He got it. The guy didn’t trust other people as far as he could throw them. But Wrath didn’t want to be just another person to Rogue. He wanted to be the one.

But there he was, at a standstill on how to get Rogue to open up to him. They’d been dancing around this attraction for a few years, but then maybe it was all in his head. Perhaps he needed Echo and Fisher’s help? They were the man’s best friends. If anyone knew Rogue’s weakness, then it would be those two.

“There’s the door,” Wrath murmured, lifting the water bottle to take a few swallows. He saw a touch of surprise fill Rogue’s eyes before they dropped to his throat movement from drinking.

With a thundering scowl, Rogue stalked to the back door leading to the garage and left.

The door wasn’t slammed, but it was pulled firmly shut, which made Wrath smile.

Rogue was confused, and it put the assassin on the run.

And him…well, he was going to enjoy the chase.

With a lot of effort, Wrath made himself get up from the couch and make it to the bathroom to start the shower. Slowly and with a few hisses, he stripped, dropping his bloody clothes on the floor.

He had to get this wound taken care of before it got infected. With a head filled with thoughts of Rogue, he rummaged for a bottle of antibiotics in the medicine cabinet.

Rogue thought to keep him away with dirty looks and a cold shoulder…

He smirked and popped a few pills before stepping beneath the warm spray for the second time that day.

Cold shoulder?

We would see.

Three days later…

There was no way in hell Rogue was working for Erebus.

Not after what had transpired between him and Wrath the other day. Thinking of Wrath gave him instant heartburn.

What was odd, however, was that he hadn’t received the habitual good morning text messages from Wrath for the past three days.

Why? Why send him all those quirky text messages for months and months?

Now, nothing?

Wrath had only ever missed an occasional day.

Where was Wrath?

Had he gone on a job where he went so dark he couldn’t text? That wasn’t uncommon, all Erebus assassins had to leave their personal cell phones and ID cards with Savage when they took jobs so shit couldn’t be tracked back to the organization.

Yet…Wrath had always found a way to contact him. Rogue suspected that half the time the messages were from burner phones, which was against Erebus’ rules, but he also knew that Wrath didn’t give a fuck. The man moved to his own beat.

It was one of the things he liked about the guy.

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