Wildfire
Page 29
“Are you done?” Rogan asked.
“Fuck you!” Dave spat.
“Dave!” the aegis cried out.
“The man isn’t done. He’s still got two good legs left.”
Rogan picked up Dave’s left leg, pulled it straight, and rolled back, sitting around it, so his right leg was locked over Dave’s thigh. He would snap Dave’s knee.
The aegis flung her gun across the lawn and looked at me, her face desperate.
I ran to Rogan and dropped on my knees by him. “Enough. Please. Please.”
“Is it enough?” Rogan asked.
Dave moaned. He was purple like a plum now, his breathing so fast, he wasn’t getting in any air.
I put my hands on Rogan’s steel-hard calf. “Please. He can’t even talk anymore. He can’t tell you to stop.”
Dave raised his palm and slapped the ground.
Rogan released his leg and stood up in a single fluid movement. His voice could’ve frozen over the Gulf. “Don’t come after her. She won’t stop me next time. Tell your brothers. You come after her again, I’ll go through your House until none of you are left.”
Dave deflated slightly, his skin turning a more human color. Sweat drenched him. He sucked in air, leaned on his side, and vomited.
The aegis knelt by him, a water bottle in her hand.
I wrapped my hand around Rogan’s arm. “Let’s go home.”
We got into the car. I slid into the driver’s seat, started the Range Rover, and drove back to the street before Rogan decided to go back.
He leaned back in his seat, his face calm. He had to be hurting.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
He nodded.
“How bad is it?”
“I’ll live.”
Dave was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Daniela once told me that Rogan hated feeling helpless more than anything. He would go to any length to avoid it. My going into Rynda’s house while he was across the city made him feel helpless and scared. He needed to let it out. He needed to hurt someone, and Dave had presented himself as a threat to me. Rogan broke him and would’ve kept on breaking if I didn’t stop him.
The Belize War had changed Rogan. It changed everyone, but it had torn him apart and he had to remake himself to survive. He served as the army’s ultimate weapon. He would walk into a city, reach into the deepest part of his soul, where the magic was wild, and let it out, and the city would crumble and fall around him. He inspired fear. They gave him scary names. The Butcher of Merida. The Scourge of Mexico. Huracan. As if he weren’t a man but some terrifying legend come to life. And then he ended up in a jungle, miles into enemy territory, with soldiers depending on him for their lives. Using magic would’ve saved him but his soldiers wouldn’t survive. So he didn’t use it. He walked them out of that jungle, but very few people knew what those weeks in Belize had cost him. He would never again fit into the civilian life. Rogan would never be “normal.” He left the military five years ago, but it made no difference. He was still in.
“Did I scare you?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t have to go toe-to-toe with him.”
“Yes, I did.” Understanding dawned on him. “Wait. You were scared for me?”
“Yes!”
“I’ve seen him fight. When he armors up, he can’t sweat. He has a limited time frame before he starts overheating. The more he moves, the hotter he gets.”
“It was still dangerous.”
“I didn’t rush into the fight. It was a calculated risk,” he said.
Oh well, that makes everything better, then, doesn’t it? “You could’ve picked up a tree and smashed him with it.”
“That would take care of Dave, but not his family. House Madero doesn’t understand telekinesis. They understand brute force and broken bones. I sent a message and I made it simple enough so even they won’t misinterpret it.”
Well, he had a point. They wouldn’t misinterpret it. They wouldn’t work for Victoria Tremaine again.
“There is a difference between self-defense and torture. I understand why you broke his arms. But there was no need to break his legs.”
He didn’t say anything.
“Occasionally there will be times when I’ll be in danger,” I said.
“I know.”
“There may not always be a Dave handy.”
“I know . . . I’ll learn to deal with it. But I will protect you, Nevada, no matter what it costs me.”
He simply stated it as fact. Oh, Connor.
“I’m glad you stopped me,” he said. “I wasn’t when I was doing it. But now I’m glad.”
I was probably the only one who could. If it was one of his guys, he would’ve just kept going. And the next time, if I wasn’t there, he would break Dave’s legs.
I understood why Rynda was trying so hard to ingratiate herself to him. She was in panic mode and she knew that if Rogan cared about you, he would stop at nothing to keep you safe. If he and I ever had a family . . .
Children? Was I really thinking about having his children? I pictured what Rogan’s children might be like. Smart, and beautiful, and deadly. And impossible. They would be little demon children, getting into everything, trying everything, and not understanding the word no.
His eyes had iced over again. When Olivia Charles had killed his people, Rogan went into a grim place. There was nothing there except the absence of light, ice, and revenge. I had dragged him out of that darkness, and I would never let it have him again.
We passed the checkpoint and I parked the car in front of his HQ. He released his seat belt and studied me. The air in the car vibrated with his tension and energy, all of it dark.
“Some things I can’t help,” he said.
“I know.”
“But I’ll try.”
“That’s all I ask.”
I looked into his dark eyes and saw the edge of a storm brewing. He was focused only on me. Nothing else existed. I had the dragon’s undivided attention. Breath caught in my throat.
He leaned forward. He was going to kiss me.
Anticipation gripped me, mixed with a hint of instinctual alarm.
His lips touched mine. His kiss scorched me. I gasped and let him in. His tongue claimed my mouth and I tasted him, the unique flavor that was Rogan, male, harsh, and irresistible. His hand cradled the back of my head, his fingers sliding through my hair. He drank me in, possessive and seducing.
“Fuck you!” Dave spat.
“Dave!” the aegis cried out.
“The man isn’t done. He’s still got two good legs left.”
Rogan picked up Dave’s left leg, pulled it straight, and rolled back, sitting around it, so his right leg was locked over Dave’s thigh. He would snap Dave’s knee.
The aegis flung her gun across the lawn and looked at me, her face desperate.
I ran to Rogan and dropped on my knees by him. “Enough. Please. Please.”
“Is it enough?” Rogan asked.
Dave moaned. He was purple like a plum now, his breathing so fast, he wasn’t getting in any air.
I put my hands on Rogan’s steel-hard calf. “Please. He can’t even talk anymore. He can’t tell you to stop.”
Dave raised his palm and slapped the ground.
Rogan released his leg and stood up in a single fluid movement. His voice could’ve frozen over the Gulf. “Don’t come after her. She won’t stop me next time. Tell your brothers. You come after her again, I’ll go through your House until none of you are left.”
Dave deflated slightly, his skin turning a more human color. Sweat drenched him. He sucked in air, leaned on his side, and vomited.
The aegis knelt by him, a water bottle in her hand.
I wrapped my hand around Rogan’s arm. “Let’s go home.”
We got into the car. I slid into the driver’s seat, started the Range Rover, and drove back to the street before Rogan decided to go back.
He leaned back in his seat, his face calm. He had to be hurting.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
He nodded.
“How bad is it?”
“I’ll live.”
Dave was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Daniela once told me that Rogan hated feeling helpless more than anything. He would go to any length to avoid it. My going into Rynda’s house while he was across the city made him feel helpless and scared. He needed to let it out. He needed to hurt someone, and Dave had presented himself as a threat to me. Rogan broke him and would’ve kept on breaking if I didn’t stop him.
The Belize War had changed Rogan. It changed everyone, but it had torn him apart and he had to remake himself to survive. He served as the army’s ultimate weapon. He would walk into a city, reach into the deepest part of his soul, where the magic was wild, and let it out, and the city would crumble and fall around him. He inspired fear. They gave him scary names. The Butcher of Merida. The Scourge of Mexico. Huracan. As if he weren’t a man but some terrifying legend come to life. And then he ended up in a jungle, miles into enemy territory, with soldiers depending on him for their lives. Using magic would’ve saved him but his soldiers wouldn’t survive. So he didn’t use it. He walked them out of that jungle, but very few people knew what those weeks in Belize had cost him. He would never again fit into the civilian life. Rogan would never be “normal.” He left the military five years ago, but it made no difference. He was still in.
“Did I scare you?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t have to go toe-to-toe with him.”
“Yes, I did.” Understanding dawned on him. “Wait. You were scared for me?”
“Yes!”
“I’ve seen him fight. When he armors up, he can’t sweat. He has a limited time frame before he starts overheating. The more he moves, the hotter he gets.”
“It was still dangerous.”
“I didn’t rush into the fight. It was a calculated risk,” he said.
Oh well, that makes everything better, then, doesn’t it? “You could’ve picked up a tree and smashed him with it.”
“That would take care of Dave, but not his family. House Madero doesn’t understand telekinesis. They understand brute force and broken bones. I sent a message and I made it simple enough so even they won’t misinterpret it.”
Well, he had a point. They wouldn’t misinterpret it. They wouldn’t work for Victoria Tremaine again.
“There is a difference between self-defense and torture. I understand why you broke his arms. But there was no need to break his legs.”
He didn’t say anything.
“Occasionally there will be times when I’ll be in danger,” I said.
“I know.”
“There may not always be a Dave handy.”
“I know . . . I’ll learn to deal with it. But I will protect you, Nevada, no matter what it costs me.”
He simply stated it as fact. Oh, Connor.
“I’m glad you stopped me,” he said. “I wasn’t when I was doing it. But now I’m glad.”
I was probably the only one who could. If it was one of his guys, he would’ve just kept going. And the next time, if I wasn’t there, he would break Dave’s legs.
I understood why Rynda was trying so hard to ingratiate herself to him. She was in panic mode and she knew that if Rogan cared about you, he would stop at nothing to keep you safe. If he and I ever had a family . . .
Children? Was I really thinking about having his children? I pictured what Rogan’s children might be like. Smart, and beautiful, and deadly. And impossible. They would be little demon children, getting into everything, trying everything, and not understanding the word no.
His eyes had iced over again. When Olivia Charles had killed his people, Rogan went into a grim place. There was nothing there except the absence of light, ice, and revenge. I had dragged him out of that darkness, and I would never let it have him again.
We passed the checkpoint and I parked the car in front of his HQ. He released his seat belt and studied me. The air in the car vibrated with his tension and energy, all of it dark.
“Some things I can’t help,” he said.
“I know.”
“But I’ll try.”
“That’s all I ask.”
I looked into his dark eyes and saw the edge of a storm brewing. He was focused only on me. Nothing else existed. I had the dragon’s undivided attention. Breath caught in my throat.
He leaned forward. He was going to kiss me.
Anticipation gripped me, mixed with a hint of instinctual alarm.
His lips touched mine. His kiss scorched me. I gasped and let him in. His tongue claimed my mouth and I tasted him, the unique flavor that was Rogan, male, harsh, and irresistible. His hand cradled the back of my head, his fingers sliding through my hair. He drank me in, possessive and seducing.
