Chapter Five

“ F uck.”

When Seven muttered the curse word, Hunter glanced at his husband.

“What’s wrong?” Hunter asked.

“Azrael just texted me to send in the calvary.”

“Is he fucking with you?” Ice grumbled, coming up and out of his light doze. Grit moved anxiously to his paws.

“Maybe…” Seven’s words were cut off when another text came through.

“Fuck! Joshua just texted the word, help. So it seems legit.” Seven was out of the passenger van in seconds and turned back. “One of you stay put and call 911.”

Creed turned to Kellum and cupped the back of his neck. Creed pressed his forehead to his husband’s.

Four-year-old Dylan, who had been looking out the window at the snow covered parking lot that looked more like a dirty slush fest, shouted, “Take me with you,” as he held out his arms.

“Not this time,” Kellum told his brother.

“Make the call?” Creed roughly asked Kellum.

Kellum held Creed’s storm-colored eyes. His teenage brother Aaron was inside that department store and if anything happened to Aaron, or any of the boys…Kellum couldn’t even finish the thought.

“You got it,” Kellum whispered and wrapped an arm around Dylan’s small waist to keep him from following Creed out the door. “Bring them back safe.”

“I will.” Creed stepped out of the van and left the sliding door open.

Ice and Echo, along with Grit, got out of the vehicle.

Hunter was already out and joining Seven near the front of the van.

Nobody went running into the store. They never ran, even when loved ones were involved. Running in without grouping up and at least making a short plan was a good way to get dead.

“You guy’s loaded?” Hunter asked, checking the clip on his gun.

Echo cackled at Hunter. “You really need to ask?”

“Heel,” Ice told Grit, and the big golden dog stuck like glue to the assassin’s side.

“All right, let’s go check it out,” Seven said and shot a text message to inform Dave, who was already at the vacation home—along with several more adults and a handful of children.

The trip to the airport to pick up Ice, Echo, and their Labrador retriever was supposed to be a short one. But it was turning out to be anything but.

The boys had all piled in the passenger van with demands of stopping at a Target department store to buy last-minute presents.

Leave it to their kids to get into trouble.

“If Joshua started shit with anyone,” Seven muttered. “I’m going to ground him forever.”

“It could be any one of them. Aaron isn’t always a peach.” Creed said calmly as they headed across the parking lot.

“Aaron is how old? Thirteen?” Echo asked.

“Thirteen going on twenty,” Creed grumbled.

Echo laughed. “Sounds like most of them right now.”

“I agree,” Hunter said. “Teenagers think they have all the answers.”

The sound of an SUV driving close had Seven glancing over to find Real behind the wheel, with Stone in the passenger side, and an eighteen-year-old Beck in the back seat.

“Fill me in,” Real said, running his eyes over them, noticing the concealed weapons.

“Something is going on inside the store,” Seven said.

At those words, Real felt his stomach drop. “Where’s Azrael?” He almost couldn’t get the words out.

“He went inside to get the boys…” Seven’s words cut off when three of the boys came running out of the store along with several customers.

Joshua, Travis, and Aaron ran through the snow, slipping and sliding across the parking lot even though each one wore grips on the bottom of their shoes plus heavy snow gear. The speed with which they ran caused them to skid and stumble.

“Hurry!” Travis shouted and fear filled the boy’s voice as they drew near to them. “Azrael and Tyler are still inside with a gunman.”

All three boys clung to the side of Real’s SUV, panting for breath.

“Get inside the passenger van with Kellum and Dylan,” Seven ordered, and all three teenagers scrambled to comply.

“Joshua!” Real snapped. Reaching into his glove compartment, he took out his nine millimeter.

Stone was already out of the vehicle, telling Beck to stay put.

Leaving the SUV’s engine running, Real stepped out and held Joshua’s gaze.

“Park this next to the van. And then you and the boys join Kellum in the van,” Real told Joshua and left the driver’s door open.

Without hesitation, Joshua got behind the wheel.

Real patted his pocket where the extra clip always rested and moved toward the entrance. Seven checked his Glock and stalked alongside Real and Stone, with Creed, Ice, and Echo at their flank.

“What brings you here?” Seven asked Real as they hurried across the slushy, snow-filled lot.

“What do you mean?” Real said.

“I mean you said you weren’t coming,” Seven pointed out.

“I changed my mind,” Real responded and then fired a question of his own. “Now what the fuck is going on?”

“We got a text that said ‘help.’ You found out about the gunman right when we did,” Seven said.

They reached the entrance and Seven stopped. “I need someone to watch the front entrance.”

“I’ll watch the exit,” Creed said.

“We will stay with Creed to keep the chaos down.” Echo said, and Ice agreed with a nod. “I think the less people inside the better.”

When Real, Stone, Hunter, and Seven reached the sliders, they walked through the metal detectors just inside the doors. Their weapons set off the alarm as they passed through.

People took one look of the group of badass men entering the store and scrambled out of the way.

Nobody wanted to stop that group. In fact, several people ran out the door and into the cold.

Real snapped his gaze around until he found the group of people circling something or someone. He shoved his way through the group, not caring if people stumbled or fell. Most of the smarter ones moved out of his fucking way.

Real only stopped when he caught sight of Azrael sitting on top of a man three times his size with a gun pressed to the guy’s temple.

The heartbreakingly beautiful young man wasn’t focused on the crowd of people around him, but rather on the man beneath him.

Azrael’s free hand was toying beneath his down jacket. And even though Real couldn’t see it, he knew the blade was there just as surely as he knew that Azrael wasn’t present.

The boy was lost somewhere inside of his head.

Real should have never agreed to let Azrael come to Colorado. This was his fault. The teenager was too vulnerable—although if Azrael had been asked, he would have said otherwise. Azrael didn’t believe that his past was affecting his present.

Real knew differently. He knew firsthand how much a person’s past could determine their future.

Real sighed and stepped forward.

It was going to take some finesse and downright power to fix this without either of them getting hurt, but Real would risk everything to keep Azrael safe.

And then, as always, Real would let Azrael go.