Chapter 25

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E very goddamn second was a new level of bullshit. By the time I dragged my ass back to my quarters, I was wrecked, wanting nothing more than to collapse on the bed and blackout.

The clock on the wall just sat there, mocking me with its late-night digits, reminding me how royally fucked I was for being up so late.

I stumbled into my room, feeling like a sack of bricks. Stripping off my filthy clothes, I dragged my ass into the shower, hoping the hot water would wash away the stench of the day. As the steam filled the cramped space, I let out a long, heavy sigh, feeling the tension slowly draining from my body, but nowhere near fast enough.

Finally feeling somewhat human again, I stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around my waist. Then I heard it—the soft click of my door opening.

I didn’t remember leaving the door unlocked.

My heart rate skyrocketed, and every damn hair on my body stood up like I was about to go into battle. I grabbed the closest thing resembling a weapon—the penknife I still kept in my pants—and silently moved to the side, hiding behind the wall.

Yeah, wasn’t exactly Rambo’s combat knife, but it would do in a pinch.

I held my breath, my muscles tense as a piano wire, waiting for the intruder to make their move. And then I saw them—a shadow creeping across the floor, inching closer and closer to the bathroom.

No time for second guesses, no time for pleasantries.

I moved like a predator, swift and silent, pressing the cold edge of the blade against their throat with enough force to draw blood if needed.

There was a gasp, a soft sound of surprise, and then my hand froze. They froze too, probably wondering why the hell I was about to slice them open like a Christmas turkey.

The scent, the silhouette—it was familiar. Too damn familiar. With a shaky hand, I flicked on the light, and there she was, Red, standing there wide-eyed and startled, her hands up in surrender.

I lowered the knife, my pulse still racing like a damn NASCAR track.

“What are you doing here?”

Red blinked, looking genuinely surprised and I pulled back, the knife slipping from my grip like it was suddenly made of butter.

“I knocked,” she stammered out, her words tumbling out in a rush. “You didn’t answer.”

Sure enough, I could faintly recall the sound of someone rapping on the door earlier, but in my exhausted stupor, I must’ve fucking ignored it.

I sighed, the tension draining from my body like water from a punctured canteen. “Next time, try using your vocal cords instead of skulking around like a ninja.”

She offered a sheepish smile, the kind that could charm the devil himself. “Yeah, my bad. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“And also, wait for a fucking response,” I said, running a hand through my damp hair. “I could’ve killed you.”

She nodded, looking relieved as hell that she wasn’t about to become a statistic in a crime report. “Got it. Sorry, Rogue.”

I strode past her, tossing the penknife onto the nightstand with a casual flick of my wrist, trying to play it cool like I hadn’t just been ready to go full-on psycho mode.

Red stood there, looking all innocent and shit, like she didn’t just give me a heart attack five minutes ago.

I shoot her a sidelong glance, eyebrow raised in question. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

She chewed on her bottom lip, looking suddenly unsure of herself. “I just... needed to talk, I guess.”

I ignored the way her gaze lingered a little too long on my bare chest as I rummaged through my dresser for a clean pair of boxers.

“Go on, spit it out.”

She hesitated for a moment, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.

“You got something to say, or are you just gonna sit there staring like a creep?”

She flushed, her cheeks turning a shade of red that clashed spectacularly with her pale skin in a way that was almost too funny. “Sorry,” she mumbled, her gaze dropping to the floor like she was suddenly fascinated by the pattern of the carpet. “It’s just... I didn’t expect you to be... you know, half naked.”

I snorted, the corners of my mouth quirking up in a smirk despite myself. “Well, sorry to disappoint,” I quipped over my shoulder, giving her a pointed look. “But last time I checked, I wasn’t running a fucking nudist colony.”

Red offered me a small smile, the corners of her lips quirking up in that way that always made my heart do stupid somersaults.

“Asshole,” she said, but there was no real heat behind the words, just a playful banter that felt oddly comfortable.

“Alright, spill it,” I said, turning away from her, reaching for the drawer where I kept my stash of underwear. “What’s so damn important that you couldn’t wait until morning to talk about?”

I untucked the towel wrapped around my waist, letting it drop to the floor in a heap, exposing my naked ass to the world.

Or, you know, just Red.

I heard her sharp intake of breath, so loud it might as well have been a gunshot, but I didn’t bother looking back. She’s seen it all before, anyway.

The silence dragged on, thick and tense, like a rubber band about to snap. And just when I thought she might actually burst a blood vessel from holding her breath for so long, Red finally piped up.

“I am still here, you know,” she said, like the sound of air being sucked through a straw.

I chuckled, shaking my head at how predictable she was. “Relax, sweetheart,” I said, my voice deceptively casual as I rummaged through the drawer. “You’ve seen one dick, you’ve seen them all.”

She cleared her throat, louder than necessary, making the silence that followed even more awkward. “I didn’t come here to see your penis,” she trailed off, waving her hand in my general direction like my nakedness was a minor inconvenience.

I grinned, pulling on a pair of boxers with all the grace of a seasoned stripper. “Sure, you didn’t,” I said, winking at her over my shoulder.

“You know, for a paranoid bastard, you’ve got a surprisingly nice ass,” she teasingly said, yet oddly sincere.

I nearly choked on my own spit, my eyes bulging out of my skull, totally caught off guard by her blatant compliment. “Well, shit,” I replied, my eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “Glad someone finally noticed.”

“Don’t get too cocky,” she replied, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “It’s just an observation.”

I shrugged, trying to play it cool even as my heart hammered a frantic rhythm in my chest. “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment,” I replied, feeling my face heat up with a blush that would put a fucking tomato to shame.

Once I was decent, or as decent as I ever got, I turned back to face her, crossing my arms over my chest in a poor attempt at nonchalance.

“Well?” I prodded, trying to ignore the warmth that was creeping into my cheeks despite my best efforts. “Don’t leave me hanging here.”

Red’s expression did a complete one-eighty, shifting quicker than a chameleon on speed. She went from zero to concerned in about two seconds flat. And knowing her, it was probably bad news.

She hesitated for a moment, gnawing on her bottom lip like she was trying to find the right words.

“It’s about Viper,” she began, her voice all low and serious, like she was about to deliver the sermon of the century. “He’s stable now, but there’s something you need to know.”

I let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through my hair in frustration. Just what I needed—more drama to deal with.

I bent down and grabbed the towel from the floor, tossing it carelessly onto a nearby chair as I reached for a pair of pants.

“Alright,” I grunted, making a huge effort to ignore the way Red’s eyes scanned me like she was trying to solve the mysteries of the universe with nothing but a calculator and a prayer. “Lay it on me. What happened?”

I pulled on the pants with hands that that felt numb and clumsy and I motioned for for her to sit her ass down. Red perched on the edge of the bed like it was about to bite her.

“They found something in his system,” she said quietly.

I joined her, a chill creeping up my spine like icy fingers. “And?” I prompted, impatient as hell, glaring at her like I could force the rest of the information out of her mouth.

She swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to her hands in her lap. “Heparin,” she answered, her words slow and careful like she was trying to break it to a child.

I furrowed my brow, the name sounding vaguely familiar but not ringing any bells. “Heparin?” I repeated, my mind racing to catch up. “What the hell is that?”

Red took a deep breath, her shoulders slumping as she was preparing to drop a bomb.

“It’s an anticoagulant,” she explained, her voice all clinical and shit. “Thins the blood, prevents clotting. But it can cause hemorrhage if it’s not administered properly. Which is exactly what happened with Viper.”

This made zero fucking sense.

I stared at Red, her face a damn stone wall, as if she was hiding a vault of secrets behind those pretty eyes.

“What about the TXA?” I interrupted, cutting straight to the chase. “Did that even make a difference?”

Her face fell and she shook her head. “None of it showed up on Viper’s medical tests,” she said, her frustration bleeding through loud and clear. “It’s like we never even injected him in the first place.”

My gut clenched tighter than a nun’s thighs in church. So not only did Viper get pumped full of God-knows-what, but now half of it’s gone missing like it never even existed.

Great.

I needed a smoke to calm my nerves before I blew a gasket.

I gritted my teeth, trying to keep my cool as I reach behind her towards the nightstand. My fingers wrap around the pack like it was the last piece of my sanity. I lit one up, sucking in a lungful of smoke as I tried to shut out the noise in my head telling me everything was royally fucked.

Red was staring at me, her silence speaking volumes as she watched me smoke like a chimney. I knew what she was thinking—she probably believed I fucked up with the vials, like I was some kind of amateur who couldn’t tell the difference between meds.

I vividly remembered grabbing that vial, checking the label like my life depended on it, and it damn well said TXA, not Heparin.

I wasn’t some incompetent jackass who couldn’t tell his ass from his elbow. So, either the tests were shit, or someone swapped the vials.

I took another drag, trying to gather what was left of my balls.

“Come on,” I finally said through a cloud of smoke, the words more a command than a plea. “I can practically hear your thoughts from here.”

Red raised an eyebrow, her expression all innocent and shit. “What?” she asked, playing dumb like she didn’t know what the hell I was talking about.

I rolled my eyes, taking another drag of my cigarette as I prepared to lay down some truth bombs. “You think I messed up the vials,” I said, blowing out a plume of smoke.

She cocked her head to the side, getting all defensive. “I didn’t say that,” she protested, her eyes searching mine for any sign of deception.

I scoffed, flicking ash onto the floor like it was nothing. “Bullshit,” I replied, forcing the words out through clenched jaws. “You might as well have.”

Her face scrunched up like she just took a shot of battery acid. She opened her mouth, but no words came out, just a weak squeak that died in the air.

We stood there in silence, the only sound the crackle of my cigarette burning between us.

Well, fuck it. Might as well try to smooth things over, even if it felt like I was trying to dig myself out of a grave with a spoon.

“Want one?” I offered, holding out the pack towards her like it was some kind of peace offering.

She blinked, surprised, her eyes flicking between me and the cigarettes like she was debating whether to take it. That doubt—it pissed me off, but I kept my mouth shut.

Finally, with a sigh, she grabbed one. Her fingers shook just a little as she did.

“Thanks,” she said, her tone softening just a fraction.

I flicked the lighter, holding the flame steady as she leaned in, lips parting, tongue flicking out to wet them. Damn, she was close—too close—and the way her body seemed to hum with a raw, primal energy made it hard to think straight. Things were getting very not PG-rated in my head.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

The way she sucked on that cancer stick, her lips wrapped around it like she knew how to handle more than just tobacco.

And those nails of hers, painted blood red—I could already feel them scratching my back, ripping into me as she rode me hard.

“It’s my fault,” Red murmured, her eyes downcast. “I should have checked the vial before injecting Viper.”

She caught me staring, and I swear, for a second, her eyes said she knew exactly what I was thinking.

I wouldn’t mind if she did.

I blinked, shoving aside any fantasies where Red was riding me like the world was about to end, because right now, that wasn’t the priority.

But I needed her to make those fantasies a reality, pronto.

“Don’t you dare blaming yourself,” I interjected, the smoke escaping my lips like a dragon breathing fire. “He was bleeding out, and we had to act fast.”

She shook her head, her eyes full of doubt and regret. “But even so,” she insisted, “I can’t shake the feeling that you didn’t mess up the vial. It’s just... I don’t know, Rogue. Something feels off.”

She wasn’t really talking about the damn vial, was she?

“Or someone,” she added, sucking on that cigarette like it owed her money.

Nah.

I understood exactly what she was getting at, and I felt my blood boil hotter than Satan’s ballsack in July.

That absolute cunt.

“How the hell did he pull that off?”

Red’s response was a shrug, her eyes distant as she recounted her theory. “I don’t know for sure,” she paused, her eyes narrowing as if reliving the nightmare. “But my guess is after I finished with Viper, he weakened his sutures somehow, so they eventually broke and caused bleeding.”

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Dirty bastard had a plan, alright. “And the TXA vial?” I asked, the words punctuated by the sharp inhales of my smoke.

She took a drag herself, eyes flicking over to me like I just kicked a hornet’s nest. “He either changed the labels or swapped the TXA with Heparin,” she replied, exhaling a cloud of smoke that hung in the air like a dark omen.

My grip on the cigarette tightened until the ash crumbled under my fingers.

“How did he know you’d be the one treating Viper?” I asked, smoke billowing from my nostrils.

She shook her head, her frown deepening. “He went out of his way to ensure I was always around Viper. Set the whole thing up."

I could feel my blood turning into liquid lava.

That son of a bitch. That dirty, rotten scumbag. He had put my teammate’s life on the line just to hurt her . That crossed every line in the book.

“I swear to fucking God,” I told her straight up, crushing the cigarette between my fingers. “I’m gonna find him, Red. And when I do, I’m gonna tear him apart, limb by fucking limb,” I swore, and I meant every word of it.

After I was done with him, he would be shitting sideways for the rest of his miserable life.

Justice wasn’t going to serve itself on a silver platter. Sometimes, you’ve gotta to grab it by the balls and squeeze until it screams.

I straightened my back, squared my shoulders, and made a promise to myself, to Red, to the universe at large: I wouldn’t back down. Not now, not ever. Because sometimes, being a terrible person was the only fucking way to do what was right.

It was payback time, motherfucker.