Page 73 of Damaged

Shock swept through Rip. “What? No! I didn’t know you were there.”

“I yelled your name.” Wrath snarled.

“I didn’t hear you,” Rip whispered, and not for the first time, he was filled with regret for not reaching out.

He’d had his reasons, but in the face of his brother’s anger, he was filled with regret.

Wrath pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.

After a long moment, Rip watched Wrath’s shoulders deflate and his brother opened his eyes.

“Get up,” Wrath said, holding out his hand. “You look stupid.”

Rip huffed on a laugh and took the hand Wrath extended. When he was yanked to his feet, he grabbed Wrath and squeezed him tightly.

“Justice is going to kick your ass,” Wrath muttered, squeezing him back just as tightly.

“I’ll take the hit,” Rip said, his voice muffled in Wrath’s hair.

“Come on, I think they are wondering what’s up,” Wrath said, and Rip stepped back, dropping into step beside his brother.

The past two years had changed Rip even more so than the military. At thirty-four years old, his brother had a lot more muscle than he’d had that day at the base.

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” Rip said as they walked back toward the group.

“Who?”

Before Rip could answer, a noise from the barn reached them and Wrath turned along with his brother.

Rebel and Boston stood in the barn door and the noise had been Boston’s plate dumping noisily to the ground.

Rip’s breath sucked in quietly, but Wrath heard it. He glanced from his brother and back to the boys.

“You know them?” he asked Rip, but the man didn’t answer.

Wrath glanced back at the barn only to find Boston flying toward them over the dirt-covered ground.

“Rip!” the boy screamed with a sob.

The cry of Rip’s name sounded so tragic that Wrath felt his own chest tighten.

“Fucking hell,” Rip rasped, sounding shaken, and his brother’s long strides covered the ground between him and the young boy.

Boston launched into Rip’s arms and Wrath watched as his brother held Boston as if he were the most precious thing on earth.

“What’s that about?” Rogue whispered from his side with a warm hand at his back.

“I have no clue,” Wrath said and spun on his man. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Rogue sounded confused.

“For thinking you might have known.”

“It’s okay. I knew you were in shock.”

“I was, I still am,” he murmured and shot a look back at Rip. The two were still wrapped up tight. Suddenly, Rip put Boston at arm’s length.

As it should be, Boston was only seventeen and if his brother had thoughts of anything with the boy, then he was going to need to wait. It seemed that Rip thought the same way and when Boston tried to step closer again, Rip gave him a stern shake.

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