Chapter Nineteen
W rath glared at his phone and the message from Rogue.
Rethink some things?
That was fucking bullshit. He closed his eyes; pain filled his chest, and he slowly tucked his phone away.
All he could do was to stick to the plan and get Rebel out of there.
Then he would deal with Rogue because if that man thought to ditch him, then he had another thing coming.
In truth, though, Wrath was tired of the hot and cold. He was tired of always being the one to chase. Why couldn’t Rogue meet him halfway? Why did it always have to be him making advances?
Perhaps he doesn’t like me as much as I like him.
He hated the thought but couldn’t deny that it might very well be true.
At this point, he didn’t fucking know.
“Are you okay?” Rebel whispered.
“Yep.” Wrath smiled and led Rebel out of the bathroom. He pulled out several pieces of a weapon he had disassembled and tucked on his person and placed them on Rebel’s bed.
Hiding his weapon had been the best thing to do since Mrs. Jackson had taken his jacket when he’d entered from the outside. She had also bumped against him as if by accident, but he’d caught onto the fact that she was searching him for a weapon.
He still had Rebel’s knife tucked beneath his shirt and he never went without his own weapon. She didn’t find either one, but didn’t really search him because that would have drawn suspicion.
He hadn’t blamed her at the time because he thought she was just being careful with new renters.
Now he knew differently.
Wrath walked through the small room, checking the lamp, each knickknack, even the door frames above the door, closet, and bathroom. Wrath combed through every inch of the small bedroom and after several minutes, Rebel frowned at him.
“What are you looking for?”
Putting a finger to his lips, Wrath then tapped at his ear. Rebel’s eyes went wide and the boy launched off the bed and started searching the room as well.
Listening devices and cameras were so small now that it might be hard to find any. And there might not be any, but Wrath had to make sure.
Wrath turned away from checking the room after finding no cameras or devices and sat on the bed. He quickly assembled the compact nine-millimeter and twisted on its silencer before tucking it away beneath his shirt.
“What’s Mrs. Jackson’s part in all this or is Jeff running the show?”
“She runs things. Jeff is her nephew.”
Now that he had his weapon, he felt much better. Not that he couldn’t have killed them with his bare hands, but this way was quicker.
And he would kill them.
He would take care of this situation and get him and Rebel on the road.
Then he’d find Rogue.
Because if Rogue thought he could walk away without facing him first, then the man was wrong.
Damned wrong.
It pissed him off that Rogue dumped him over a fucking text. But then, had they been more than casual fucks this past month?
Well, yeah, to him they had, but he couldn’t speak for Rogue.
“Are you going to take the bars off the window? I’ve tried, but I can’t do it.”
“No, kid, we’re going out the front door,” Wrath smirked.
When Bill came knocking on Rebel’s door later that night, Wrath opened it.
“You need to sleep in your own room. He’s mine,” Bill slurred, smelling like alcohol. It looked like the asshole had been drinking since dinner.
“Sure.” Wrath gestured with his hand and held the door open.
When Bill stepped inside, Wrath closed the door and then slammed his gun into the back of the fucker’s head. Bill dropped to the floor. Wrath lifted the pillow from Rebel’s bed, pressed it to Bill’s face, and fired two bullets into the man’s head. Even though he had a silencer on his weapon, the pillow would help to further muffle sounds.
Rebel stood quietly and Wrath tossed the boy a quick glance to find his eyes filled with a dull glaze.
Fuck. He had thought that Rebel might be out working the streets for money, but now he knew it was these bastards who came up here every night to fuck the boy.
“Nobody is ever going to touch you again,” Wrath promised.
“He hasn’t been up here in months,” Rebel whispered.
“Probably pissed and jealous that I was here.”
“Maybe,” Rebel whispered. “But mostly it was Jeff. That’s why Bill never came.”
That meant Jeff was the one.
“We’ll get Jeff on our way out,” Wrath promised, pulling Rebel toward the door. “When we get out there, you stay on my ass like glue. You got me?” he rasped, and Rebel nodded, stepping closer.
Killing the lights, Wrath waited until his eyes adjusted and then eased open the door.
The landing on the stairs was empty and Wrath quickly made his way down the hall and paused.
“Where is Jeff’s room?” He figured that guy was the bigger threat than the woman.
Rebel pointed down the hall. “The second door.”
“And the woman?” Wrath said, keeping his voice almost inaudible.
“Downstairs room,” Rebel whispered.
Wrath handed Rebel back his knife. “Stay here,” he whispered and walked to Jeff’s door. When he tried the handle, it turned, and he quickly entered, shutting the door behind him.
Rebel stood staring at the door Wrath had disappeared through. The hope that Wrath would help him save his mother turned to fear when the man left his sight.
He stood clutching the knife. He’d killed with the blade in his hands and if he had to, he would kill Jeff if it happened to be him who came back out of that room instead of Wrath. He would need to be on the run for the rest of his life if he did that, and he would never be able to see his mother again because the cops would be all over her place.
“What have I told you about coming out of your room at night?” Mrs. Jackson said from behind him.
Shit. She’d come up the stairs and he hadn’t heard her. Pasting on a smile, he palmed the knife, so it stayed hidden somewhat and turned around. She held her trusty revolver in her hand. It was some kind of vintage weapon she told many a story about using. It wasn’t pointed at him because she knew he would never attack her for fear over his mother.
He could kill her right here and now by shoving his knife in her neck. She would never see it coming.
But what if it was Jeff instead of Wrath who came out of Jeff’s room? The odd thing was that there had been no sounds from Jeff’s room after Wrath had entered. Had Jeff gotten the jump on Wrath the minute he’d entered?
“Where’s Rick?”
It took Rebel a moment to realize that she was talking about Wrath.
“He’s in the bathroom.”
“Your bathroom?”
Rebel nodded.
“Get back to bed. You’ve got two jobs tomorrow.” She gestured to his closed bedroom door.
Rebel made the decision and hoped like hell that he wasn’t sending his mother to an early grave.
“Okay,” he whispered and swung his arm up and around.
The knife punctured her neck. Blood sprayed him and her. Her eyes widened and the gun toppled to the floor with a thud just before she collapsed on the stained carpet.
Wrath came out of Jeff’s room and closed the door. He found Rebel standing frozen over Mrs. Jackson’s body. Gently, he approached and took the knife from the boy’s hand and dropped it to the floor. “It’s okay, they’re all dead.”
Rebel nodded, sucked in a harsh breath, and stood panting as if he’d been running. Wrath cupped a hand at the back of Rebel’s neck with one hand and pulled his cell phone from his pocket.
Savage answered on the first ring even though it was the middle of the night.
“What do you need?” The man’s voice sounded like he’d been woken from sleep.
“I need cleaners. Do the full sweep for prints and I mean full.” Wrath told Savage the address and pulled Rebel down the stairs.
“Did you retrieve Rebel?”
“I did,” Wrath assured his boss. He wondered why Savage was so set on bringing Rebel in, but then he remembered that Savage seemed set on finding all of Solomon and Tanis’ boys.
“Good. I’ll have a team there in twenty minutes to clean the place. You get Rebel to Dave’s for now.”
“We have someplace to go first,” Wrath said and hung up the phone before Savage could argue. Screw it, he was going after Rogue and taking Rebel with him.
“Let’s go.” Wrath smiled at Rebel’s incredulous look at him and then back at the house. “What?”
“You guys have cleaners and everything?” Rebel whispered.
“We do. I’ll tell you about Erebus but let’s hit the road,” he said.
It ended up being the back door he guided Rebel out of instead of the front, but a door was a door in Wrath’s book.
Right now, they were going to find Rogue.
And then he and Rogue were going to talk. Whether or not Rogue talked wouldn’t matter.
Wrath had plenty to say.