Page 11 of Christmas Trouble

The sheriff looked Azrael up and down and then turned to Real. “You’re telling me that this skinny kid who can’t weigh more than ninety pounds soaking wet took down Paul Stent?”

If Sheriff Mendoza continued sneering and talking in the condescending tone of voice, they were going to have a problem.

“Excuse me,” Seven said stepping forward.

“I’m not talking to you,” Mendoza dropped his hand to his holstered weapon.

Hunter bristled and stepped forward. If Real or Seven didn’t shoot the sheriff, no pun intended, then he was going to stick a knife in the asshole.

Real pulled out his phone and made a call.

Sheriff Mendoza had taken a couple of steps backward, careful to keep the big men in front of him.

“Dave? We have a situation,” Real said into the phone, never taking his eyes off Mendoza nor moving his other arm away from Azrael’s hand—that touch was the only thing keeping him from putting Mendoza on the ground.

“Who’s that?” Mendoza wanted to know, glaring suspiciously at Real.

“The former Secretary of Defense,” Real said and held out the phone.

Mendoza looked gobsmacked.

Azrael had been on the verge of throat punching the cop, and only because Real had confiscated his blade. Otherwise the asshole might have gotten a knife to the ribs.

It really was a good damn thing that Real had called Dave. Azrael wasn’t used to being a peacekeeper and the move he’d made to prevent Real from putting the sheriff down had been instinctual.

From the moment of the phone call and the call from Dave to the mayor, who in turn called the chief of police, things went more smoothly.

The two cops who had followed Real and Azrael from the store were able to give Mendoza the earlier statement from Azrael and Real.

After a while, Dave arrived on the scene along with an entourage of secret service. The mayor drove out only to meet the former SecDef in person. It was a privilege, the mayor assured Dave.

From that point and onward, Mendoza was on his best behavior, and the sheriff did make a point to let them go with a sincere thank you. Real was sure the guy wanted to give them an ass ripping—and that might have happened had Dave and the mayor not been around.

The wind was fucking cold, bitter, brutal, but at least out here Azrael could breathe. He glanced around and found the robber, Paul Stent, sitting in the back of one of the local PD cop cars.

Mendoza had told Dave that Paul Stent was a middle-aged man with a family of four. The man only wanted to get his kids Christmas presents.

Azrael remembered the money filled bag and he wasn’t sure he believed Stent, but he kept his mouth shut as Dave, the mayor, and Mendoza talked.

And while Paul Stent was going to jail for armed robbery, Mendoza had walked over, opened the door to the cop car, and promised the broken man that the department would make sure his kids and wife had a Christmas to celebrate.

And for the first time since the incident had begun, Azrael was glad he hadn’t killed the man.

It took about another forty-five minutes for them all to go back inside the Target and find the gifts they’d dropped in the chaos.

Getting in the long line at checkout felt almost normal.

Or as close to normal as Azrael knew he would ever get.

“Damn that was gnarly,” Joshua said, tossing his heavy coat onto one of the twin beds in the room he shared with Travis.

The drive back to the lodge had been in silence, the only sound being the tires squelching over snow covered roads as they caravanned along behind Real’s SUV.

Everyone split when they came inside the large lodge nestled in the Colorado mountains just outside of Denver.

Dave went toward the kitchen saying something about making food.

The lodge could sleep twenty-two, or so Joshua had been told, but he and Travis had opted to share a room with twin beds.

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