Page 16

R oughly an hour later, Azrael sat at the side of his brother’s hospital bed.

Bleach and antiseptic filled the air. The machine hooked up to Apollo gave reassuring beeps.

The last time he’d seen his brother had been that Sunday at Dave’s place.

“You take care of yourself, baby bro,” Apollo had said.

Azrael snorted at that, but hugged his twin just as tightly.

“I will.” A lump grew in his throat. Parting from his brother was painful, but he knew that Apollo had to live his life and he, his own.

Now…Apollo lay unmoving from a gunshot wound that had almost cost him his life.

And he was going to use everything in his power to find the killer and cut his throat.

“Az,” Apollo rasped.

His heart pounded and he shot up from his chair to sit on the edge of the bed. He lifted the hand that didn’t have an IV in it and gripped it tightly.

“Hey,” he breathed out the one word through a throat tight with tears, but he managed to hold them back.

He didn’t need to break down and cry in front of Apollo. That would only make things worse and it wasn’t his brother’s fault that he was feeling raw at the moment.

Earlier, the nurse told him that when Apollo woke up, his brother could have ice for now.

“Ice chip?” Azrael whispered and dipped the small spoon into the cup of melted ice to hold it up to Apollo’s dry lips.

His brother gratefully sucked it down and Azrael fed him another.

“Where’s Cash?”

“He’s in the cafeteria getting some food. He’ll walk back through that door any minute. He hasn’t left your side.”

“I’m sorry I worried you guys.” Apollo’s voice was almost inaudible, but the room was very quiet, save the beeping of the heart machine.

“Not your fault, bro. Your skills have gotten rusty, but I’m going to re-teach you some duck and cover moves,” Azrael said, keeping his voice light and teasing even though he was crying inside.

“Yeah, I’ve grown hella rusty.”

That his brother agreed with him without hesitation, Azrael knew Apollo was really hurting. His older twin usually argued with him.

“Did they catch the guy?”

Azrael shook his head and brushed his long hair over his shoulder to keep it out of his face.

“Not yet, but with Erebus and Genesis looking, it’s only a matter of time. Of course, if I find the guy first, then they’ll be shit out of luck.”

“Don’t.” Apollo tightened his hand around his. “Let them do it.”

“Don’t forget, I work for Erebus,” he reminded his brother.

“I haven’t forgotten any of it. I wonder why he came in guns blazing.”

“He was after Real,” Azrael said.

“Then let Genesis handle it.”

“Sure thing.”

“You’re lying to me,” Apollo said and grimaced when he shifted in the bed.

“They can do their thing and I’ll do mine.” Azrael smoothed his hand over the top of his brother’s. “The only thing you need to do is get better.”

Right on cue, the door opened and Cash walked through. The tall younger man hadn’t shaved and the hair on his face was growing in thick. Cash slammed the tray down on a small table and hurried over to the other side of the bed.

Bending down, Cash pressed his face into Apollo’s neck. The man’s hand came up and fingers slipped through his brother’s silky, shoulder-length hair.

Azrael quietly left the room.

Out in the wide hallway, the smell of antiseptic and bleach grew stronger. The voices of the team members who were still there drifted in snatches of conversation.

“Hey, Win?” Azrael said, spotting Winter talking to Rip.

“Yeah?” Winter smiled at the nickname.

“Want to go on a real date?”

“Last time wasn’t a real date?” Winter teased. The man stood and walked closer to him.

Real stared a hole in the side of Azrael’s head.

Not that it did any good because Azrael wasn’t looking at him, nor had he looked at him from the moment he’d arrived in an Uber and walked into Apollo’s room.

Same thing when Azrael came out of the hospital room, he didn’t even spare him a glance.

Now this?

Was he fucking hearing things?

Azrael had just asked Winter out on a fucking date? A date that had nothing to do with YA.

“Az.” His voice came out guttural and full of rage, but he didn’t give a fuck.

Azrael didn’t even acknowledge that he spoke. Instead, the slender assassin took Winter’s hand and walked with him toward the lobby.

The hallway turned red.

No fucking way!

Real lunged after Azrael and Winter.

Or at least he tried to.

Only, Rip and Stone both had ahold of him. Rip was on his back, and Stone with a hand to his chest. Real tore Rip off and tossed him like a toy against the wall. Knocking Stone’s arm away, Real tried to shove Stone aside, but that didn’t happen.

“Think! Fucking think,” Stone gritted the words out between his teeth. Stone clamped a hand at the back of his neck. The muscles on the man’s arm corded and bulged.

Stone was deadly when he got mad. The man was absolutely unmovable, and that was saying something since they were almost the same build.

Rip was at his back again, but the man didn’t try to contain him.

The world was spinning out of fucking control.

Real gnashed his teeth in Stone’s face and then hauled back and put his fist through the fucking wall.

Stone released his grip.

“That’s going to cost me,” Dave said from somewhere nearby.

Real hadn’t even realized the former SecDef had stepped up to them.

“You good?” Stone wasn’t stepping back.

“Yeah,” Real said, his growling tone nothing like his usual voice.

“Take a seat,” Stone said, and it wasn’t a request.

With his hand hurting like a bitch, Real dropped down onto a plastic chair. It groaned under his weight.

“I’ll get someone to look at his hand,” Rip said and disappeared down the hallway.

Real gazed at his bloody knuckles.

Nothing made sense anymore.

Save the feel of Azrael beneath his hands.

“Sorry about that.”

Winter smiled at the remorseful tone Azrael used. He almost didn’t hear the words over the noise in the coffee shop.

“I don’t mind,” Winter said, lifting his voice slightly.

“You don’t?” Azrael squinted at him, following suit and speaking louder.

“Being used by a beautiful man to make another man jealous? Nope.”

They had ended up in the Hospital coffee shop on the premises, and Azrael was picking at the paper cup holder wrapped around the cup of mocha latte he’d ordered.

Winter sipped at his own black brew and gazed at the younger man. He could see the hurt written all over Azrael’s face and filling his eyes. Something had happened between Azrael and Real, something Real was running from.

Movement from the door caught Winter’s gaze, and Boston approached.

“Azrael?” Boston said, growing closer.

“I’ll leave you two to talk,” Winter said, and Azrael gave him a slight smile.

“Thank you.”

“Just come claim my body when Real kills me,” Winter murmured, only half joking.

Azrael stared at Winter and shook his head.

“He won’t bother,” Azrael said as Boston took a seat.

“Don’t bet on it,” Winter said with a smirk and walked out of the coffee shop.

“I saw what happened,” Boston said. “What in the world were you thinking by asking Winter out?”

“I wasn’t thinking. I was pissed.”

“What happened?”

Azrael closed his eyes and sighed heavily. He gazed at Boston and took a long swallow of his sweet coffee before he answered.

“We slept together last night.”

“You…ah…okay…”

Azrael smirked slightly at Boston’s stumbling response.

“Yeah, and today he wants to pretend it didn’t happen.”

“He’s a hard one to figure out.” Boston stood. “I’ll be right back.” The other boy approached the counter to place his order.

Azrael thought about what Boston had said. Real was hard to figure out. On the one hand, Azrael would bet his knife, his most prized possession, on the fact that Real wanted him. On the other hand, there was something that was keeping Real from going for it—going for them.

If he could figure that part out, then maybe he could fix it.

Boston came back with an uncovered cup of something that had mounds of whipped cream on the top of it.

“What’s that?”

“Hot chocolate.” Boston wrinkled his nose. “I don’t like coffee.”

Azrael snorted. “You will.”

Boston shrugged and opened his mouth, but they were interrupted by a young good-looking man.

“Can I get your Instagram?” the man asked, holding out his phone to Boston.

Boston blinked at Azrael, then gazed up at the stranger.

Azrael noticed the appreciation in the stranger’s gaze that ran over Boston. His slender friend’s dark curly hair was rich and thick and caught the light. Boston’s build, along with his creamy dark eyes, drew attention wherever they went.

“Keep walking, buddy.”

Azrael snapped his eyes to Rip, who had come up behind the stranger. Rip towered over the guy.

The stranger turned on Rip and gaped.

Azrael almost snickered. Rip was so god damned hot that the stranger was taken aback.

“What about yours?” The stranger switched gears in the face of the gorgeous dark-haired Rip.

“Keep walking, buddy,” Boston snapped at the stranger and stood with the hot chocolate in his hands.

Rip gently closed one hand around both of Boston’s, holding the cup firmly.

“Unless you want to wear this hot cocoa,” Rip said with a lifted brow.

The stranger swallowed in the face of just how good-looking the big dark-haired man and slender teen were and disappeared.

“Why’d you stop me? He deserved it,” Boston pouted, and Rip released his grip with a sigh.

“This is a civilized establishment,” Rip said.

“If you’re implying I’m not civilized, then you’re right,” Boston said, his grin cheeky.

Azrael gazed around the coffee shop, expecting Real to be hiding in the wings, but the place was empty of his warrior.

A sting hit his eyes and he gazed down at this cup, squeezing it tight.

“We’re trying to figure out what Real is afraid of,” Boston told Rip.

Jerking his gaze up from the cup to Boston, he gaped at his friend.

Sometimes, Boston was uncannily smart.

“I probably shouldn’t say anything,” Rip said.

Azrael pinned the man with a cold, hard stare. “If you don’t, I’ll cut you.”

Boston burst out laughing and Rip smirked.

“He thinks…it’s hero worship on your part.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Outraged, Azrael could only stare at Rip as the wheels turned in his head.