Page 17 of Wrecked

Rolling away, Crow came up several feet from him and wiped the blood dripping from his bottom lip with the back of his hand.

“I fucking hate your guts.”

“I don’t care. Get some sleep,” the man said flatly and then walked over to the other bed to stretch out.

“I’m going to kill you!”

The man huffed like he was laughing and Rebel thought his head was going to explode with anger. He sucked in a deep breath ready to rip the fucker a new asshole, but Crow rolled over with his back to him.

Was he going to sleep?

What the fuck?

The fucking nerve of the asshole.

Yeah, some nerve…he gives you clothes, a warm shower, and food, the sudden voice of reason came out of nowhere.

Rebel paused, frowning. Okay, so Crow wasn’t a complete asshole, but did he have to lock him up to give him all that?

Probably, yes. Because Rebel wouldn’t be there if he wasn’t tied down. He had learned the hard way not to trust a fucking soul.

And that went for Genesis, Erebus, and anyone else who wanted to control him.

He had a whole list of people he would forever distrust.

And the guy lying on the other bed?

He moved to the top of that list.

Crow rolled from the bed later that same day, showered, and trimmed the hair on his face. Leaving the bathroom, he pulled on a clean t-shirt, jeans, and boots.

He ordered food to be delivered and then scooted the desk away to receive the cartons of egg and sausage sandwiches and juice from a local fast food place that served breakfast all day. Putting the food on the desk, he slid the desk back to block the door.

Glancing at the bed, he found Rebel awake and glaring at him. It had to be uncomfortable sleeping with his arm raised like that, but Crow couldn’t take the chance that the kid would kill him while he slept.

And he had no doubts Rebel would have found a way to end his life last night.

I fucking hate you.

The words came back to him and he sighed. He didn’t want to garner hate in the kid, but rather friendship. Crow would bet money that Rebel didn’t have a friend in the world.

But then it wasn’t uncommon for people in their profession to be friendless. He didn’t have friends outside of Genesis orErebus. Standing with his back to Rebel, Crow got the syringe of the sedative out of his pack and palmed it before he turned.

“I’m going to cut you loose so you can eat, but I want your word you won’t try and hit me or run for the door.”

“Yeah okay, hurry. I have to take a piss.”

Crow smirked at the whine in the younger man’s tone and approached the bed. He clipped through the zip-tie.

If this worked out and Rebel behaved, then they could eat something before hitting the road. Rebel bounced up and ran for the bathroom, slamming the door.

Crow hid the syringe beneath a pillow on the spare bed and grabbed one of the bags.

Rebel emerged from the bathroom and snatched the other bag from the desk. This time, the kid sat cross-legged on the opposite bed and devoured the food, chugging the juice between bites.

“I want you to come back to the ranch,” Crow said, gaining Rebel’s attention.

“No can do,” Rebel said around his food.

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