Page 18

One day later…

“I ’m telling you that a guy they call Freedom lives there,” Boston whispered.

Azrael sized up the Santa Monica mansion that sat on the cliff overlooking the ocean. It was incredible, but looked like Fort Knox with security. The place also sat behind a wall with wrought iron fencing and a sheer cliff on the far side.

Of course, that wouldn’t keep them out.

But they had to be smart about this. If Freedom was one of Solomon’s boys, then he could be very dangerous.

“I think only one of us should go in,” Azrael said.

“No, we need to watch each other’s backs,” Boston hissed.

“I agree,” Rebel sided with Boston.

They were all crouched behind a retaining wall not far from the big house.

It was midday, and Azrael noticed several unlit flood lights that would light up the area at night. The level of lighting and security was telling, as if the owners had something behind the walls that needed protecting or hiding.

What he didn’t know was whether the house was owned by the assassin named Freedom or if the guy just lived there with someone else.

According to their records, Freedom was twenty-one years old and had been one of Solomon’s boys.

Freedom, of all things, had used that information as a reference to obtain hit jobs in their field.

Of course, most people didn’t know that Solomon was dead, so perhaps Freedom thought it gave him an edge. And maybe it did. What Freedom didn’t know was that in using Solomon’s name, he was first on YA’s list.

Azrael briefly wondered why Erebus hadn’t contacted Freedom, but then maybe they had and were told to go screw themselves.

“He’s our age. Maybe we should wait and talk with him,” Rebel suggested, breaking into his thoughts.

“He’s older than me by like four years,” Boston chimed in. “Four years can be a lifetime.”

“We don’t really know how many years he worked for Solomon,” Azrael murmured.

“I wonder if he was sold to Tanis,” Boston whispered.

Azrael’s gut sickened at the mention of Tanis. It was a very real possibility that Freedom had been with both Solomon and Tanis.

Just hearing the fucker’s name reminded Azrael of the day Real had killed Tanis.

It all started when Azrael had been part of a sting on Tanis. Fisher, Crow, and he had to get inside and get Tanis to open up his bunker where young boys were being held.

Azrael knew that he would have no problem getting close to Tanis. In fact, he knew he could get closer than the others on the secret ops because of his looks. In addition, for some reason, predators gravitated toward him. They sensed he might be vulnerable. They were so wrong.

So, the meeting happened at Tanis’ fortress, and down to the bunker they went once Tanis got a look at him . Azrael felt his skin crawl and wanted to gut the guy right there, but there were boys locked in that fucking bunker.

Deep in the bowels of the man’s home, they reached the hallway that led to the steel reinforced door. Azrael’s palms sweat, but his hands were steady.

Only… Tanis had told Fisher to kill Crow. And Fisher was pointing a gun at Crow, and Azrael couldn’t let that happen. They were too close to rescuing those abused boys in the bunker, so Azrael decided to act. He could have won an Oscar for that moment.

Thinking quickly, he had a meltdown right there in the hallway.

“I can’t be here!” he screamed and beat his hands against the bunker steel door. “Let me out, let me out.”

It worked, and when he slid to his ass on the floor wailing, Tanis acted.

“There, there, I’ll let you out,” Tanis said and opened the bunker door to usher him inside.

What they found within the large room was sickening. Cages upon cages of boys locked in a bunker that smelled of sweat and feces.

Crow and Fisher attacked Tanis’ bodyguard and a brutal fight started. During the altercation, Azrael got caught, and Tanis used him like a human shield.

All hell broke loose and Tanis’ grip on him loosened… Azrael took that moment to spin and headbutt Tanis in the face.

That day, he learned a very valuable lesson. Never take your eyes off your enemy.

But how could he look away when Real thundered into the bunker, all muscle and power like a fucking hero?

Real took a quick glance around, their eyes met, and their gazes collided.

So when Tanis hit him, Azrael didn’t see it coming, but Real saw it all.

Stars filled Azrael’s vision when Tanis backhanded him in the mouth. The force sent Azrael flying against one of the cages. Dazed, he landed on his ass on the floor.

Tanis lunged for something, probably a weapon, but never made it.

Real launched across the distance fast, like a panther, and lifted Tanis by the throat as if he were a doll.

All hell broke loose.

Real pushed Tanis’ head against the bars of the nearest cage. Thankfully, that cage was empty.

Tanis screamed and scratched at Real, but it did no good against the impenetrable military gear the warrior wore.

Real’s muscles corded and bunched, and Azrael watched as Tanis’ head was pushed through the bars of the cage.

It was a very tight space that wasn’t designed to fit a human head.

Tanis’s face and skull caved between the bars and the onslaught of Real’s force.

Tanis gagged and jerked until he went still, and Real stepped back, leaving Tanis hanging there.

Azrael tried to stop the tears, but he couldn’t. Relief made him shaky.

Tanis was finally dead.

Real stalked over and lifted him from the floor and into his arms.

Azrael had wrapped his arms around the big soldier’s neck as he was carried away into the night like some prized possession.

Perhaps that had been the day he had known there was no going back.

He was in love with Real.

He was in love with a man who hid his emotions. A man who didn’t love him back. A man who was unlike any other he’d ever met.

“Az?” Boston’s whisper drew him from the past.

“We’re not getting in there today. Let’s regroup, and we can come back in the night,” Azrael told them and turned to head back down where they’d left Rebel’s SUV.

“We’ve been staking this place out for hours. Are we ever going to let them know we’re here?” Rip shifted in the passenger seat of the SUV.

The vehicle was borrowed from Dave’s fleet, and the former SecDef told Real to keep it for as long as he needed.

Rip was right.

How long was he going to sit here and watch Azrael?

He found it odd that Azrael had taken one of the names on the list and called the YA team to check it out. It was probably due to Apollo still being in the hospital and Azrael feeling helpless.

They had very little to go on about Apollo and Cash’s attack, but they did get video.

“Let’s meet up with Crow and check out the information Stone found on the college surveillance one more time,” Real suggested, starting the vehicle.

Crow had accompanied them back to California. The assassin was never far from Rebel for long. Which made sense because Crow never stayed at the ranch for long, since Rebel was currently working out in California.

Rip nodded. “I think it’s worth it. Some of the kids said that they had seen the guy at the sandwich shop not far from campus. I bet if we canvas that area all the time, he’ll eventually show up.”

“Maybe, but I’m not convinced,” Real muttered and flipped a bitch to drive away from where YA had been scoping out a large house where a young assassin named Freedom lived.

“Looking at the way he shot up a dorm room, I’m convinced he won’t disappear without finding you, or something you care about,” Rip said.

“Hence the reason we are keeping an eye on YA.” Real felt the need to point that out.

“Yeah, but don’t forget those are two assassins back there,” Rip countered and took a sip from a soda sitting in the center console.

“You do realize there were three…that Boston was there…” Real tossed him a frown.

“What?” Rip scowled.

Real chuckled darkly. “Yeah, he was crouched down on the other side of Rebel.”

“Son of a bitch! He was not!”

“He was. He was wearing that brown Kansas City Chief’s t-shirt you bought him.”

“Fuck, let’s go back.”

“He’s been running around for over a year learning from Erebus, no sense in coddling him now.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t know he was doing that. This is different,” Rip grumbled.

“He’s safer right where he is. Besides, if you start trying to control him, he’s going to balk and might even run. You don’t want that.”

“No, I don’t want that,” Rip sighed, nodding in agreement.

Real understood just how hard it was to stand back and let the younger generation find their own way.

Sometimes it felt like the hardest thing in the fucking world to do.

Damn it.