Page 48 of Breathe
“Yeah,” Real said gruffly and shoved the shirt into the bag.
“I also heard you took out the trash in Cali,” Rip said, folding his black work clothes.
Real frowned at him for a moment, and then the man’s brow cleared before a deadly look filled his eyes.
“They were messing with one of our own.”
Rip smirked. The idea that Real thought he was only guarding one of their own was laughable. Real had it so bad for Azrael that if anyone looked at the young assassin sideways or too long, they risked death.
He wondered how Real would deal with Winter when they next met. As it was, Winter had stayed in California to investigate the attack on Apollo and Cash.
Although on the mend, Apollo was still recovering in the hospital. And Rip knew that once Apollo did leave, the boy would be safely encased at Dave’s place. The former SecDef had hired even more guards for the hospital and the estate. Of course, these guards had come from reputable sources like Phoenix, Pegasus, and Infinity.
Dave never allowed anyone to work for him without references.
“You don’t look at him like he’s just one of our own.” Rip felt the need to point that out after a moment.
Real shot him a dark scowl. “You don’t look at Boston like he’s an assassin.”
Fuck. Rip glared at the shirt in his hand. “Two very different things. Boston is sixteen, and Azrael is nineteen.”
“Seventeen,” Real said.
“What?” Rip frowned.
“Boston is seventeen.”
“And a kid,” Rip snapped, tossing the shirt in on top of his other clothes. He yanked his toiletries off the small shelf over his bed, keeping his mind off the curly dark-haired boy.
“Azrael was seventeen when I met him on the streets of San Bernardino.”
“Yeah, Echo told me about how he rescued Azrael and Apollo along with Cash from Solomon’s warehouse.Andof how you arrived to get them safely off the streets,” Rip said, zipping up his bag.
Real remembered that day clearly because it was the first time he’d put his hands on Azrael.
Granted, it had been done with impatience to get them all into his vehicle, but that had been the beginning of it all.
The beginning of Azrael’shero worship.
“It’s just…gratitude,” he said gruffly and zipped his own bag before checking the clip on his weapon and stuffing extra clips into the side pockets of his bag.
Rip snorted, drawing his gaze.
“Call it what you want, but it doesn’t look like gratitude from here.”
What the hell was this? The men of Genesis were worse than old biddies sitting around gossiping as if they didn’t have enough shit to do.
Real reached for his patience before he answered.
“That’s all it is.”
“So…then anyone can tap that?” Rip asked sarcastically.
Real felt his body go still.
“Watch your mouth.” Real stared at Rip across the distance and saw the man’s face change.
“Sorry,” Rip said, not sounding sorry at all. “I’ll just say one last thing and then we’ll drop it.”
