Page 33 of Damaged

“Quit pressuring me.” Rogue’s voice had turned hard and flat.

“I’m sorry,” Wrath murmured. “I just wanted us to work together.”

“We are working together,” Rogue pointed out and Wrath couldn’t argue with that. They had done a handful of jobs together.

He shut up after that and Rogue immediately noticed when he had gone quiet. Rogue took his hand and pulled him out ofthe door. Treated to dinner, Wrath had to remind himself that Rogue had a lot of tragic history to work through.

It was going to take time to build a relationship and trust, and that could not be done in a matter of weeks.

It could take years.

He didn’t mind, and the thought of him and Rogue being together for years kept him happy.

The nightmares kept Rogue up when they slept, and all Wrath could do was hold the man in his arms. A knot formed in his chest thinking of the ragged, raw sounds coming from Rogue’s throat.

He shook off his worry and walked down the long hallway and through the living room into the kitchen. There were small pieces of Rogue everywhere—a shirt here, shoes there, and a hairbrush on his dresser. Two toothbrushes graced his bathroom sink counter.

But Wrath was smart enough to not take the assassin for granted. He started a pot of coffee and stared out the back window at the ocean.

Rogue could disappear at any time, he reminded himself.

Right now, though, Rogue seemed to prefer being with him and Wrath was going to take the opportunity to meld them together in any way possible.

His cell phone buzzed and brought him out of his head and into the present. He reached over and plucked it from the long granite-covered bar that separated the kitchen from the living room.

It was Savage.

“What’s up?” Wrath asked his boss.

“Is Rogue there?”

The man in question wandered in from down the hallway. Yawning, Rogue scratched at his stomach through his white t-shirt. In loose sweatpants and bare feet, not to mention those messy dark curls, Rogue was mouthwatering.

“Yeah.” Wrath held out the phone to Rogue. “It’s Savage,” he told the man.

“Put it on speaker.” Rogue nodded at the phone and walked past him to the freshly brewed pot of coffee.

“You’re on speaker,” Wrath told Savage after hitting the button. He went back to making eggs and bacon on the stove.

“Smells good,” Rogue murmured, sipping at a mug of black coffee.

“I don’t even want to know what you two are talking about,” Savage grumbled. “Rogue? I’ve got a lead on Rebel. He completed another hit last night.”

“Who’s Rebel?” Wrath whispered and Rogue filled him in, making Savage wait.

Wrath wondered how many more of Solomon’s young assassins were out there. For years, the fucker had been snatching boys and turning them into killers, so it stood to reason that there could be hundreds of them.

“Text me the address and I’ll go have a look after breakfast.” Rogue stayed where he was, leaning against the counter next to the stove, sipping coffee.

Wrath smirked. “Bye, Savage.”

“Call me with an update!” the man shouted before Wrath punched the end call button and went back to flipping the bacon over. He liked his crunchy and so did Rogue.

“So…” he said casually. “I didn’t know you worked for Savage.” Nor did he like the idea of Rogue not telling him.

Corded arms wrapped around his waist from behind and Rogue put his chin on his shoulder. He loved that the man was so easy around him.

Oh, it wasn’t all of the time, there were still times Rogue checked out, but sometimes, the assassin forgot about his past and became a charming, funny, and gentle man.

---