Page 63 of Damaged

Stone cut an imposing force behind the SecDef. People moved out of Stone’s way when the man cut in front of Dave to clear those stupid enough to linger.

Onlookers scattered and Wrath didn’t blame them, he wouldn’t take on Stone either.

Not that he was a pushover. But he was smart enough to pick his battles. Plus, he admired and respected both Dave and Stone.

Wrath held Dave’s gaze as the man drew near.

“How are you holding up?” Dave asked him quietly.

“I’m holding,” he rasped, but he didn’t mean it. He wasn’t holding shit and if Rogue died, he would disappear.

Rebel jumped up and offered Dave his seat and the well-built man took it. Some might call Dave slender, but that would be because the men that surrounded the SecDef were huge, especially Stone.

“I have the best surgeon in the world in there,” Dave stated.

Wrath snapped his eyes to Dave’s in surprise. “How?”

Dave wiggled his phone. “This and a helicopter. He was here before you arrived.”

“Thank you,” Wrath said thickly.

“Bad news though,” Dave said, and Wrath’s heart dropped.

“What?”

“Smalls is still at large.”

Beeping woke Rogue and he wasn’t happy about it. He had finally gotten some sleep without dreams, and it felt so fucking good.

The beeping was insistent and he growled, the sound more like a groan.

“Rogue.”

His name was softly spoken on a breath, and he smiled when Wrath’s hand gently brushed the hair away from his forehead.

Sliding his lids upward, he found a haggard Wrath leaning over him, holding onto his hand for dear life.

Rogue tugged and Wrath hadn’t been expecting that. The man landed on him with a grunt, but with the pain meds he was on, he didn’t feel a thing.

“Sorry!” Wrath tried to righten himself, but Rogue wasn’t having any of it.

He pulled until Wrath’s knee came up on the bed. At that point, he wrapped his arms around Wrath and drew him down for a kiss.

Wrath’s lips rubbed against his and he sighed.

“I knew you would come,” he breathed against the man’s lips.

“You almost didn’t make it.” Wrath’s voice didn’t sound like himself and Rogue stared into the man’s eyes.

Seeing the fear there, he remembered that they were always one step away from meeting their maker.

Slowly, Rogue slid his arms away and Wrath straightened back up and sat on the edge of the chair still holding onto his hand.

“I don’t know if we’re going to work,” he admitted softly, holding Wrath’s tired gaze.

“Why?” A muscle ticked in the man’s jaw.

“I’m mean, you’re not.”

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