Page 57 of Breathe
Stepping into the hallway, he found Rip and Winter waiting for him.
“This shit ends tonight,” Real growled, gazing at the assassins who were darkly dressed just like him.
“What about Az?” Winter asked.
Real clenched his teeth as he spoke. “He’s sleeping.”
“Did you talk to him?” Winter squinted hard blue eyes at him.
“He didn’t want to talk.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re going to lose him if you don’t lock him down.”
“Win…” Rip placed a hand on Winter’s arm and shook his head.
“Fuck it,” Winter scoffed and walked away down the hall.
Real rubbed at his chest as he and Rip followed.
Winter was right.
But locking shit down with Azrael was easier said than done.
Azrael rolled over in the bed and gazed at the ceiling.
Something had woken him up and when he sat up and gazed around the dimly lit room. He spotted Rebel sitting on the other bed browsing through his phone.
“You good?” Rebel asked, glancing over. The man’s hair was a mess of black curls that fell over his forehead.
Azrael nodded and then grimaced when his own hair felt knotted and tangled. He’d gone to bed with it wet and it had dried all crinkly.
“Yeah,” he said, and it came out as a croak, so he cleared his throat and reached for his phone on the nightstand.
Only one message, and it was from Real.
Stay put. I’ll be back.
“Where did Real go?” he asked.
“To take care of Micky.”
“No fucking way. That’s my kill,” Azrael snarled and Rebel placed his phone aside.
“He only wants you safe,” Rebel said.
“No, he’s treating me like a kid.”
Rebel lifted his shoulders with anI don’t knowgesture.
“Where’s Crow?” Azrael asked. It was odd to see Rebel without his boyfriend.
“He’s sleeping.” Rebel’s smile was impish. “I wore him out.”
“I’m surprised he sat this one out.”
“Real ordered him to.” Rebel shrugged.
Azrael gently probed at the back of his head and felt the bump. At least he didn’t have the massive headache from before.
