Chapter Twenty-Six
W rath sat in one of the hard-ass plastic chairs staring at the blood beneath his fingernails.
Although he had washed his face and hands in the hospital restroom, traces of Rogue’s blood stayed on his skin.
Rogue had been in surgery for almost two hours at that point, and the time had crawled.
Justice shifted in the chair next to him and draped an arm around his shoulders. Next to Justice sat Fisher scrolling through his phone. Ice and Echo had called and said they were on their way.
“Drink this,” Crow said and pressed a hot cup of coffee into his hands.
Wrath blinked up at the guy and found both Rebel and Boston as well.
“Weren’t you two with Winter?” Wrath asked with a frown.
“We made him bring us here,” Boston whispered.
They all still looked like shit, and it was clear that none of them had slept.
“You guys should go home and get cleaned up,” Wrath said, his voice sounding like gravel. He held the cup between both hands and took a sip.
“No,” Rebel said and sat cross-legged in the chair next to him.
Wrath looked at Crow in surrender and sipped at the hot brew in the cup.
A commotion down the hallway drew his gaze.
The former Secretary of Defense was walking toward them. Dave was dressed in a black power suit that reeked of money and fit his powerful shoulders. The bodyguards surrounding Dave were all on high alert. Wrath could tell by the way they moved. Like a pack of wild animals surrounding and guarding their leader to the death if need be.
Even at the age of sixty-one, Dave was a force to be reckoned with and Wrath wouldn’t bet on anyone who took on Dave.
Stone cut an imposing force behind the SecDef. People moved out of Stone’s way when the man cut in front of Dave to clear those stupid enough to linger.
Onlookers scattered and Wrath didn’t blame them, he wouldn’t take on Stone either.
Not that he was a pushover. But he was smart enough to pick his battles. Plus, he admired and respected both Dave and Stone.
Wrath held Dave’s gaze as the man drew near.
“How are you holding up?” Dave asked him quietly.
“I’m holding,” he rasped, but he didn’t mean it. He wasn’t holding shit and if Rogue died, he would disappear.
Rebel jumped up and offered Dave his seat and the well-built man took it. Some might call Dave slender, but that would be because the men that surrounded the SecDef were huge, especially Stone.
“I have the best surgeon in the world in there,” Dave stated.
Wrath snapped his eyes to Dave’s in surprise. “How?”
Dave wiggled his phone. “This and a helicopter. He was here before you arrived.”
“Thank you,” Wrath said thickly.
“Bad news though,” Dave said, and Wrath’s heart dropped.
“What?”
“Smalls is still at large.”
Beeping woke Rogue and he wasn’t happy about it. He had finally gotten some sleep without dreams, and it felt so fucking good.
The beeping was insistent and he growled, the sound more like a groan.
“Rogue.”
His name was softly spoken on a breath, and he smiled when Wrath’s hand gently brushed the hair away from his forehead.
Sliding his lids upward, he found a haggard Wrath leaning over him, holding onto his hand for dear life.
Rogue tugged and Wrath hadn’t been expecting that. The man landed on him with a grunt, but with the pain meds he was on, he didn’t feel a thing.
“Sorry!” Wrath tried to righten himself, but Rogue wasn’t having any of it.
He pulled until Wrath’s knee came up on the bed. At that point, he wrapped his arms around Wrath and drew him down for a kiss.
Wrath’s lips rubbed against his and he sighed.
“I knew you would come,” he breathed against the man’s lips.
“You almost didn’t make it.” Wrath’s voice didn’t sound like himself and Rogue stared into the man’s eyes.
Seeing the fear there, he remembered that they were always one step away from meeting their maker.
Slowly, Rogue slid his arms away and Wrath straightened back up and sat on the edge of the chair still holding onto his hand.
“I don’t know if we’re going to work,” he admitted softly, holding Wrath’s tired gaze.
“Why?” A muscle ticked in the man’s jaw.
“I’m mean, you’re not.”
“You’re not mean.”
“I keep you from your sleep.”
“I can nap anytime,” Wrath countered.
“I’m a loner.”
“So am I.” Wrath kissed his fingers, and Rogue felt the warmth all the way into his stomach.
“I can’t watch you die.”
“As opposed to watching me live?” Wrath’s eyebrows shot up.
“You know what I mean,” he growled, pulling his hand free.
“I think I do.” Wrath sat back and crossed his arms against an impressive chest.
The man studied him and then took a deep breath as if coming to some silent conclusion. Rogue was too afraid to ask, but he figured Wrath would tell him.
And boy did he.
“If you don’t want to be with me, then don’t. I’m done chasing you. I think I’ve done a pretty good job of letting you know I lo—like you. But if I go any further and you don’t want this, then you’ll break my heart.”
Well, shit.
Wrath had been on the verge of saying the L word and changed it to like instead. Fear blasted him that Wrath would actually walk away. What the fuck did he want? Was he too fucked up in the head to just chill and be? Probably, but Wrath didn’t seem to mind.
“I’m so fucked up.” Tears made his voice come out thick and choked.
“Listen to me.” Wrath reached out and took his hand again, and this time, he linked their fingers tightly together. “All of us are damaged in one way or another. You’re no different than me. Sure, you have more shit in your past that you have to deal with, but we can deal with it together. If you want to give us a chance.”