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T he world had stopped when he got the phone call from Real.

And it only started up again when Real’s arms closed around him. His imagination was working overtime because he could have sworn that Real had kissed his hair.

“I got us rooms at the Hyatt House nearby,” Dave told Stone.

Azrael gathered his composure and pulled back from Real to gaze up into the man’s face.

Real’s eyes were smoky gray in this light with blue rings around the edges. Worry had lines etched into the man’s rugged face.

“How is he?” Fear made his voice come out weak and shaky.

“We don’t know yet. The doctor tried to find out, but couldn’t get much other than the bullet fragged when it entered his abdomen,” Real said, drawing him to a hard plastic chair.

Azrael sank down, and Real settled in at his side. Boston sat on his other side with Beck and Rebel after that. The rest of the men sat on the other side of the hallway, across from them.

“Can I see Cash?” Azrael asked and Real drew him up and out of his seat.

The room was cool and quiet when he entered with Real. Cash was lying beneath a white hospital blanket and sheet. A rolling tray with water and ice chips sat next to the bed.

Azrael went to the opposite side and took Cash’s hand in his. Cash’s other hand had an IV and there was a white gauze bandage taped to the right side of Cash’s forehead.

“He has a significant concussion and scrapes and bruises.” Real spoke softly at his side.

“Who did this?” Azrael asked, he didn’t even recognize his own gravelly whisper.

All he knew at this very moment was that the person who had done this to Cash and his brother was going to die a very slow and painful death.

“We don’t know yet…” Real paused, and his face changed, became like granite. That telling tick was going off in his jaw.

“What are you not telling me?” Azrael glared.

“They were looking for me,” Real said.

“Why you? There’s no connection between you and them. Unless they saw you at Dave’s place…or the dorms?” Azrael said, trying to work out every possibility in his head. He was drawing a blank.

“I have given them a ride back to the dorms several times,” Real said, nodding his head.

“And you might have had an enemy who followed you,” Azrael mused. “Why not just shoot you when you dropped them off?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because Stone was with me? What we suspect is that the guy was going to have them call me and use them for bait to get me there or somewhere.” Real ran a hand over the back of his own neck.

Azrael suspected that was what it was because there was no way Real would have stayed away. The warrior would have gone to save Apollo and Cash no matter if it cost him his life.

“Cash didn’t call me.”

“What do you mean?” Azrael frowned, rubbing the top of Cash’s hand lightly.

“He dialed a wrong number on purpose.”

“He’s smart like that.”

“Very.”

“Not so smart. The guy got the drop on me,” Cash said softly.

The man’s eyes were open and focused on them, and Azrael gently squeezed Cash’s hand.

“How’s Apollo?” Cash asked him.

Azrael shook his head, his eyes stung from unshed tears.

“I don’t know yet. He’s still in surgery.”

Cash swallowed and glared at Real. “You said he was fine.”

“He will be,” Real growled.

The door swung open slowly and Boston appeared in the doorway.

“The doctor is out of surgery and wants to talk to immediate family members,” Boston said.

“That’s me,” Azrael told Cash. “I’ll be right back.”

Taking a deep breath, he walked out of Cash’s room and toward the doctor wearing a light blue surgery cap and holding a surgical mask in one hand. The man looked tired, but his green eyes were kind.

“I’m Apollo’s twin brother. His only living relative,” Azrael said when he reached the surgeon.

“He’s out of danger for now, but the next twenty-four hours are critical,” the doctor said.

His knees gave out at the man’s words and it was only Real’s strong arms that saved him from falling to the floor.

“I’ve got you.”

Those softly spoken words felt bittersweet.

Real placed a sleeping Azrael on one of the two queen beds.

Exhaustion colored Azrael’s pale face, and his long lashes crested like shadowed slices. Real slowly pulled off the teenager’s sneakers and covered him up with the hotel blanket.

The Hyatt House was twenty-four minutes from UCLA Medical Center and offered extended stay to family members. Real knew they were going to be here for a while.

Apollo wasn’t out of danger, and when he did get over the first hurdle, it was going to take him a while to fully recover.

Dave already had a private hospital room ready and hired a full-time nurse back at the estate for Apollo when his hospital stay ended.

As for what Azrael would do, Real wasn’t sure. There were a few possibilities. Azrael could stay at Dave’s with Apollo or nearby.

If Real had a choice, he would nix the idea of starting YA right now and concentrate on getting Apollo back on his feet.

He walked into the studio kitchen and started a pot of coffee from the makings on the counter. He grabbed the menu and ordered burgers to be delivered. While the coffee brewed, he took a bottle of water from the refrigerator and brought it back to the bed.

Azrael lay unmoving. The stress had wiped the boy out. He placed the bottle on the night table between the two beds and turned away.

Fingers caught at his wrist, preventing him from moving. When he glanced back, he found Azrael’s dark eyes locked on him.

“Where are we?” Azrael croaked.

Real sank down on the edge of the bed and removed his wrist from Azrael’s hold. Then, he turned his hand over so that he could link their fingers.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d held Azrael’s hand. Perhaps it had been during Christmas time? He rubbed his thumb over the top of Azrael’s cold fingers.

“We’re at the Hyatt House, they have extended stay here.”

“Who’s with Apollo?” Azrael’s voice sounded thick with tears.

“Cash won’t leave his side,” Real promised.

Azrael scooted from beneath the covers and climbed onto him until he was situated facing him in his lap.

Steeling himself not to move, Real held his breath. Azrael wrapped his arms up and around his neck and buried his face into his skin. Azrael sighed into his neck and Real involuntarily squeezed the boy tighter.

Tipping his head back, Real gazed up at the ceiling and clenched his teeth so hard his jaw started to ache.