Page 76 of Wrecked

He yanked at his hair and headed back to check a closet one more fucking time. Maybe they’d missed something? The place smelled like a cleaner, that Pine-Sol stuff and some kind of scented plug-in his mom used to use when he was little. He hadn’t minded the smell because his mom kept the house nice and clean.

Crow grimaced, this was no time for a trip down memory lane. Moving the clothes aside, he searched beneath.

“Rebel?” he called out just in case the man was hiding in there somewhere.

But still nothing, plus there were no signs Rebel had been in this room.

They had almost cleared the whole house and Crow felt nothing but dread.

“Got him,” Rogue spoke through the comms.

Relief wash over Crow, making him lightheaded, and he hauled ass out of the room and back down the hallway.

He spotted the big assassin standing in the doorway of a bedroom.

Was Rebel alive or dead?

With his heart in his throat, Crow moved past Rogue and entered the bedroom.

Standing against the far wall with a gun pointed at them stood Rebel. In one hand, the gun, in the other, a chain that was also cuffed to his ankle. The clothes Rebel wore hung on his slender frame.

When Rebel caught sight of him, the boy seemed confused at first. Then the tears came hot and fast.

Crow closed the distance between them, and the fucking world righted itself when he pulled Rebel into his arms.

He thanked all that was good and holy that might have been instrumental in keeping Rebel safe.

“I thought you were dead,” Rebel choked the words out, his voice thick with tears. The gun and chain toppled to the ground when Rebel tightly gripped his shirt.

“I’m here.”

It was the only thing Crow could whisper around the tight knot of relief.

Rogue watched as the tall blond held the young dark-haired man as if he were the most precious thing on earth.

He’d overheard Crow tell Rip he wanted Rebel to live a better life.

Watching them now? Rogue couldn’t imagine a better life than that.

“Happy ending?” Wrath said and Rogue turned and gave his lover a wink.

“Kind of.”

“Is Lincoln dead?” Wrath leaned to glance past him and into the room, searching for a dead body.

“No, he’s not here.”

“Well, fuck.”

Crow eased Rebel away and looked him over, running his hands over the younger man’s shoulders, arms, and hips.

“Did he hurt you, did he touch you? Did he…” Crow couldn’t voice the word rape.

He couldn’t because he didn’t know what he’d do if the answer was yes.

“No, he didn’t.” Rebel moved into his arms.

“He didn’t what?” Crow asked.

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