Page 75 of Wrecked

“Where’s Rebel?” Azrael asked, trying to defuse the blow-up Boston was just about ready to let fly.

“We don’t know yet.” Rip sighed and gestured to the open door with his gun. “You two stay here.”

“We know what we’re doing!” Boston’s whisper was harsh.

“Yeah, but I have the bulletproof vest on, so stay here until I get back,” Rip said.

It was a valid point and Azrael pulled Boston and put him behind him.

“Let him do his thing,” Azrael murmured, his eyes on Rip.

Rip turned away and stepped through the open back door.

Azrael didn’t work with teams very often, but found them fascinating. If things had worked out with Real, he had imagined himself being part of a team.

But Real had other ideas and Azrael was tired of waiting.

He had a life to live.

Boston made a choking sound and Azrael sighed and spun around to the teenager.

He intended to coax Boston into giving the team time, but that never happened.

A man stood with Boston’s hair in a fisted grip, gripping the strands tightly to keep the teenager still.

The guy had somehow disarmed Boston, because the knife Azrael had lent the teen was laying on the ground.

“Rip,” Azrael said without turning around, but Rip was already at his side.

Rip pointed his nine-millimeter right at the guy, but the man ducked farther behind Boston’s head.

They were at a standoff.

“You won’t get away with this,” Rip told the guy.

“Try me. I’ll kill this one and you’ll kill me and what will that accomplish?”

“Lincoln, I assume.”

“That’s right. So, send your boy there into the house to get me Rebel and I’ll trade this one for him,” Jimmy Lincoln said.

Rip slightly jerked his chin at Azrael.

The situation clicked over in Azrael’s head. How much bigger Jimmy Lincoln was than Boston, of the expansive backyard behind the man holding his friend as a bargaining chip. The weapon in Lincoln’s fist was pressed against the side of Boston’s head. Lastly, Boston’s eyes.

His friend was pissed, but behind the anger, Azrael saw fear.

And Boston’s fear made his decision easy.

Azrael spun around and disappeared into the house.

Crow kicked open doors, searching beneath beds and in closets.

Fuck!

Nothing.

Still no sign of Rebel.

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