Chapter Five
Three days later…
T here was no way in hell Rogue was working for Erebus.
Not after what had transpired between him and Wrath the other day. Thinking of Wrath gave him instant heartburn.
What was odd, however, was that he hadn’t received the habitual good morning text messages from Wrath for the past three days.
Why? Why send him all those quirky text messages for months and months?
Now, nothing?
Wrath had only ever missed an occasional day.
Where was Wrath?
Had he gone on a job where he went so dark he couldn’t text? That wasn’t uncommon, all Erebus assassins had to leave their personal cell phones and ID cards with Savage when they took jobs so shit couldn’t be tracked back to the organization.
Yet…Wrath had always found a way to contact him. Rogue suspected that half the time the messages were from burner phones, which was against Erebus’ rules, but he also knew that Wrath didn’t give a fuck. The man moved to his own beat.
It was one of the things he liked about the guy.
Tapping his phone on his thigh, he gazed at the jumping bear emoji that threw its arms up and the words good morning stretched from hand to hand before starting over again. It was the last text he’d received from Wrath the morning they’d gone on that job together.
A text alert from Savage flashed up at that moment and Rogue flipped to it.
Savage: Any signs of Rebel?
Rogue: I’m getting closer.
Savage: Okay. You with Wrath?
Rogue froze. No, he wasn’t fucking with Wrath.
What the hell did Savage mean by that? And why would Savage think he was still with Wrath?
Rogue: No, why?
Savage: I haven’t heard from him for three days.
Rogue stared at the last message. Well, fuck. He quickly typed back that he’d check on Wrath and left it at that.
Now what? Was he really going to make the drive to Wrath’s house? Not that Oxnard was far from Santa Barbara. But was he going to go back to Wrath’s home after leaving so abruptly the other day?
Fuck it. He’d do a drive-by and check if the guy was home.
That couldn’t hurt.
And it was only because Savage appeared worried.
Liar.
The place was dark when he arrived even though the sun had yet to set. The night was coming through and Rogue figured it would be completely dark in another twenty minutes or so.
Was Wrath even home?
Getting into the man’s house should be easy, right? Although, Wrath was an assassin and they tended to take extra measures with protection.
Did the front door have the same entry code as the inner garage door?
All he could do was try.
Zero, five, zero, one.
Rogue froze. Why hadn’t it dawned on him that the numbers were his birthday?
May first. Nah . There was no way Wrath knew his actual birthdate. Only Echo and Fisher knew that information. The numbers had to be a coincidence.
The door clicked open, and Rogue slid into the darkness. It was almost the same as the outside, so his vision quickly acclimated.
Everything seemed in order, but he noticed a blood stain on the expensive sofa. A reminder that Wrath had been wounded when he’d left him.
He slid soundlessly through the entryway, living room, and even checked the kitchen before he started for the hallway.
All the while, he fully expected Wrath to come out of the darkness and avenge his territory being invaded.
That didn’t happen and the further Rogue moved into Wrath’s home, the more his heart pounded. What if something had happened to Wrath?
That thought didn’t sit right with him and he wasn’t going to look too closely as to why. Silently, he pulled his gun from his back holster and aimed it into the dark of the hallway as he inched forward. He didn’t know which room was Wrath’s, so he took his time silently opening doors and checking within.
It was the last door at the end of the hallway that was closed, and he held a silent breath as he eased it open and stepped inside. His eyes had already acclimated to the darkness, and he easily spotted the man sprawled naked lying on his back in the bed.
Tucking his gun away, Rogue walked closer in silent steps. The twisted silk sheet was draped over Wrath’s waist, providing covering.
He was hella surprised that Wrath still slept after he’d entered the house, much less his room. It was then that he noticed the sweat-soaked pillow.
Shit.
Touching the back of his hand to Wrath’s forehead, he found it hot to the touch. Sweat darkened the man’s blond hair around the temples and a low sound of pain came from Wrath’s throat at his touch.
Fuck this.
Rogue snapped on the bedside lamp and sat on the edge of the bed.
Wrath struggled a bit, but slowly lifted his lids. The pale blue gaze was unfocused at first and then landed on him. A wobbly smile graced the man’s lips, making Rogue swallow hard.
Dehydration was probably playing a big part in why Wrath seemed so disoriented. The bottle on the nightstand was antibiotics. He didn’t see any painkillers, so Wrath’s grogginess wasn’t from that.
Reaching over, Rogue grasped the sheet to check the wound, but Wrath’s grip on his wrist stopped him. Rogue scowled at Wrath and kept lifting until the man gave up and dropped his arm with a sigh.
The wound was fucking infected.
Badly.
It took him two seconds to make a decision, and he reached out and lifted Wrath into a sitting position in the bed. The man wrapped his arms up and around his neck and held onto him.
He cocked one arm beneath Wrath’s legs and lifted him sheet and all from the bed. Wrath clung tightly and Rogue walked out of the room, out of the house, and placed the sheet-wrapped man into the passenger seat of his truck.
The hospital was brightly lit up when he reached the entrance and he parked, lifted Wrath from the truck, and walked inside.
Wrath had been quiet the whole way and that silently told Rogue just how injured Wrath was. A muscle ticked in his jaw from clenching his teeth.
When they came to take Wrath from him, Wrath wouldn’t let go.
“They need to check you,” Rogue murmured into the damp hair at Wrath’s temple.
“Don’t leave.”
“I won’t,” he rasped to the whispered words.
“Promise.”
“I promise,” he vowed and sank into one of the waiting room chairs as they wheeled Wrath away.
Glancing at his phone, he checked messages but didn’t make any calls. He wasn’t going to report Wrath’s injury to Erebus because he no longer worked for them.
He could have messaged Wrath’s brother, Justice, but he didn’t. If Wrath wanted his brother to know he was wounded, then he would have told Justice.
Besides, Rogue wasn’t one to reach out to anyone. His whole life he’d been alone. Really. The time he’d spent with Fisher and Echo didn’t count because he had been Solomon’s right-hand man. He had never been able to do anything other than handle Solomon’s orders.
Now, sitting in this waiting room and waiting for Wrath to receive care, Rogue felt more alone than ever before.
Which was odd.
Now, the only thing he could do was to wait.
He locked his eyes on the admitting door and waited for Wrath to emerge.
Wrath…a man who had become more important than he had ever thought possible.