Page 15 of Damaged

“It’s still a crime,” Azrael snapped back, and Wrath couldn’t argue with that.

What they did was considered a crime to some, but also a saving grace to others.

Rogue apparently couldn’t argue with Azrael’s point either because the big man grimaced and placed the tray on top of the book lying on the empty table.

Wrath snatched up a plastic-wrapped roast beef sandwich and Rogue snagged a tuna salad one and tossed it to Azrael before tearing the wrapping off a ham and cheese.

“Three different kinds?” Wrath lifted a brow, tore off the wrapper, and took a big bite.

“I didn’t know what you liked.” They both ignored Azrael and after a moment, the boy tore open the sandwich and devoured the food. That was a very good thing because it looked like Azrael hadn’t eaten in a while.

“So, what’s the plan tonight?” Azrael came closer and sat on the edge of his hospital bed. On the opposite side of the bed, Rogue had settled into a chair.

“He’s not ready,” Rogue said around a bit of food and jerked his chin toward Wrath.

“I know that. But we can plan,” Azrael insisted.

“You don’t seem surprised that Azrael is here and talking about work,” Wrath told Rogue, eyeing the man closely.

“I know things.” Rogue handed Azrael a juice and then took the third one and Wrath suddenly realized that there were three of everything.

“Then you know that Savage appointed me as Azrael’s mentor?”

“I do.”

“He has an ‘in’ you know,” Azrael snickered around another bite, then chugged some juice.

“In?”

“Yeah. He knows Echo and Fisher. Get it?”

Wrath’s mouth opened with surprise before he snapped it close and took a hasty swallow of his own juice.

“Did you ask your friends about me?”

Rogue flushed and glanced away. Even white teeth savagely tore into the ham and cheese sandwich and for some reason, Wrath wanted to laugh.

But he didn’t. He held the joy inside for now. No way did he want Rogue bolting.

“Okay then. Rogue, you give Azrael lessons in short swords since you’re an expert and I’ll find some literature he can study on human anatomy.”

“What?” Rogue’s stormy gray eyes snapped to him. “No way. I’m not in this.”

“I’m injured, it makes sense for you to help me.”

Rogue stared at him mutely and Wrath softened his voice.

“I need you to help me.”

Son of a bitch!

Rogue swallowed the piece of sandwich that seemed to have lodged in his throat and took several sips from the juice bottle.

Those softly pleading words did all kinds of things to his stomach, heart, and head.

“I want to learn swords,” Azrael said, wadding up the empty wrapper in his hands. The boy tossed the paper on the tray and snagged a chocolate pudding. Popping the top, he scooped out the treat with a plastic spoon.

Taking a deep breath, Rogue meant to refuse, but with Wrath’s pale blue eyes burning into him—along with Azrael’s hopeful gaze—had entirely different words emerging from his mouth.

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