Page 59 of Damaged

A killer.

He had taken out three more before he fell to his ass inside a vacant straw-filled horse stall.

A slight noise to Rogue’s right drew his gun up and he paused before pulling the trigger.

Two young faces looked at him and one was very familiar. Many years ago, he had lived with the young man in Solomon’s warehouses. A little girl crouched next to the young man.

“Chandler,” Rogue whispered, and the young man’s eyes widened in his dirty face. At the age of six, Chandler had been captured by Solomon. At the age of ten, the boy had been sent to work the streets. It was one of those normal working days when Chandler had never returned. Rogue had assumed the kid had run away and was fiercely glad.

He had envied Chandler and his freedom, while he had stayed and kept hoping that the man he considered a father wasn’t truly a monster.

He had been so fucking wrong.

“Rogue?” Chandler croaked. The young man couldn’t be more than twenty-five years old now.

Rogue crawled across the short distance and settled his big body next to Chandler in the dirty straw. The slender young man crept closer and was soon pressed to his side.

“You got away?” Chandler whispered.

“Solomon’s dead,” he murmured and checked his clip.

The little girl pressed up against Chandler, she couldn’t have been more than ten, if that.

“I told the cops about him, but I couldn’t remember where that place was,” Chandler said.

“It’s okay, Solomon moved us when you didn’t come back. It’s not your fault, it’s mine,” Rogue assured the boy.

“No, it’s not your fault. I’m glad that fucker is dead.”

Chandler’s next words were never spoken when Smalls’ voice filled the barn.

“You better come out or I’m going to lock up this barn and set it on fire,” Smalls yelled.

Rogue pulled out his cell phone and checked for a signal, still nothing, but he had enough ammunition to take out every single one of Smalls’ gang.

Only he didn’t think they were going to give him the opportunity.

If the barn was set on fire, then he and the kids were as good as dead.

The back of his shirt and pants were soaked with blood and he knew it was only a matter of time before he lost his energy and would eventually bleed out. He felt the bubbling in his lungs and knew it wouldn’t be long before he couldn’t get enough air.

It was as good a day as any to die. His only regret was the last message he’d sent to Wrath.

I need to rethink some things.

He didn’t need to rethink anything. He had wanted to be with Wrath for years, and had temporarily let his fear get the better of him.

Now, Wrath would never know that he loved him.

Unless…

Rogue gazed at Chandler. “I need you to stay alive and give a message to a man named Wrath for me,” he said with a long, wheezing breath.

“No,” Chandler raged quietly, tears running down his dirty cheeks. The young man gripped his arm tightly, but Rogue shook his head and pressed his gun into Chandler’s hands and pulled the extra clip from his jacket to toss in the man’s lap.

“Shoot as many as you can,” Rogue whispered and with what little strength he had remaining, he shoved to his feet and walked out of the horse stall.

“There!” someone shouted.

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