Page 42 of Damaged

“I’m not,” Wrath murmured softly. “You’ve got to start trusting somewhere. You can start with me and if I ever break your trust, I’ll hand you back this knife,” Wrath said and picked up the knife in question to tuck it away beneath his shirt in the back of his pants.

Something in his voice must have convinced Rebel to take a chance on him and when Wrath stepped toward the house, Rebel dropped into step with him.

The dinner was strained, and it had Wrath’s senses on high alert.

Rebel sat with his head bent, barely eating a bite while Mrs. Jackson chatted the whole time to the two other boarders.

One blond man, who Mrs. Jackson had called Bill, ate without glancing up, but the man did answer the woman after a few calculating glances at him and Rebel.

The other man, who they called Jeff, had dark brown hair with gray in it, a weathered face, and a tall, wiry frame. Wrathdidn’t like the look in the man’s hard stare when they’d met twenty minutes ago.

“Rick?” Mrs. Jackson said, bringing Wrath’s eyes back to her.

“Yes?” Wrath said, answering to the name he’d given himself.

“I have your room ready.”

“Ah. Thanks, but I think I’ll crash in Rebel’s room and catch up on old times.” Wrath dabbed at his mouth with the napkin.

“Oh, you know each other?”

“Yeah, we go back a few years.”

Mrs. Jackson glanced at Jeff and then Bill before smiling at him. “Well, it’s nice that you found a friend.”

Why did he get the feeling that she didn’t really mean that?

“You going to eat?” Wrath asked Rebel, and the boy shook his head.

It was pizza for fuck’s sake, who in their right mind didn’t like pizza? He, on the other hand, had not eaten one bite after sitting down, but to the three across the table, they wouldn’t know that.

Wrath was a master at manipulation, and he had five pieces of uneaten pizza tucked away on his person.

“I’m done,” Rebel whispered and shoved back from the table.

“Rebel, I didn’t pay for food just so you can waste it,” Mrs. Jackson reprimanded the boy.

“I’ll have him finish up,” Wrath said and snatched up a plate with two pieces. He stumbled and grabbed for the table.

“Get some rest,” Mrs. Jackson smiled widely.

“I will.” Wrath purposely slightly slurred the words. “Let’s go.”

He urged Rebel up the stairs and into the room the boy pointed to. Once inside, Wrath wedged a chair beneath the doorknob and placed the plate on the tall dresser next to the door.

He marched the boy into the bathroom and turned on the water full blast to drown out their talk.

“Did you eat the fucking pizza?” Rebel hissed with fear in his eyes.

Wrath plucked out all five pieces and tossed them in the corner of the bathroom floor.

“No. How long have they been drugging your food?” he asked quietly, walking over to look out the small window.

He hadn’t noticed the bars on the outside because this room was facing the back of the house. He’d bet money there were bars on the window in the bedroom too.

“They don’t do it all the time, just when new people come.”

“So they can do what? Rob me?”

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