Chapter Eight

A knock sounded on the door just before Hunter opened it and poked his head through the opening.

“Foods ready,” Hunter told them.

“I’m fuc—er starving,” Joshua grinned and held out a hand to his brother. Seven didn’t need help up from the bed because he was in top shape due to his demanding job, but he let himself be pulled up anyway.

When Joshua left the room ahead of them, Seven held Hunter’s gaze.

“What did he say?” Hunter asked in a quiet whisper.

“He’s intrigued and thinking it over.”

“Yay.”

“I can only hope.” Seven linked their fingers as they stepped out of the room and headed down the hallway. He really didn’t want his brother joining the military, but he would drop the subject for now.

Entering the main room, the scent of pizza drifted from the large open kitchen. Someone had put on holiday music and “White Christmas” floated from the speakers.

The twenty-foot-tall Douglas fir with a diameter of twenty-five feet took up one corner of the great room. Boxes of ornaments and a ladder had been supplied by the owners of the lodge and decorating the massive tree had taken the boys hours.

Hassle barreled through the room, his nails clicking on the floor as the dog pranced into the kitchen looking for treats. Grit was up from his spot on the rug near the fireplace to follow after the smaller dog.

Gage and Travis made their way out of the hallway. Travis looked like he had washed up and a smile creased his young face as he shoulder bumped his brother.

From the kitchen, they all heard Dave break down and offer both dogs treats.

“Only one bacon treat for each of you,” Dave said.

Laughter filled the outer room, and Seven smiled. He pulled Hunter to a free spot in the large sectional.

The only one missing was Real.

The man had decided not to stay at the lodge. Seven knew that Azrael was disappointed, but he also knew that Real had his reasons.

Leaving the lights off, Azrael found a spot in the dim corner of the bedroom he shared with Boston. He didn’t care what Real’s reasons were for leaving.

Sitting on his hands to keep them from shaking, Azrael tried to get Paul Stent’s face out of his mind. Even now, the sound of the man’s ragged breathing filled Azrael’s ears. Paul Stent’s hitching breath as the gun pressed into his temple was a stark reminder to Azrael that he had almost taken another life tonight.

Not that Stent had been innocent, but sometimes shit in life made people do desperate things. Azrael couldn’t imagine having a large family to take care of.

Azrael and his twin brother, Apollo, had been placed in foster care shortly after their mother had overdosed for the fifth time. She ended up in jail and hadn’t given a shit about them. A few weeks after entering the system at the age of fourteen, Azrael and Apollo had run away from the foster home.

Living on the streets hadn’t been so bad.

The door clicked open, interrupting his thoughts, and Boston’s silhouette flashed briefly before the door was shut. The teenager left the lights off even though the afternoon sun was coming through the closed blinds. Making his way soundlessly on socked feet, Boston dropped down to sit next to Azrael.

“That was some crazy shit,” Boston murmured.

That was putting it lightly, Azrael thought.

A knock sounded on the door just before Beck stuck his head inside. “Everyone is gathering for food, and I think there’s going to be pie for dessert,” Beck said.

Boston gave Beck a thumbs up and the older boy left, shutting the door.

“You okay?” Boston asked Azrael.

“I almost killed a guy who didn’t deserve it,” Azrael whispered.

Boston slipped his arm around Azrael’s shoulders. He was younger than Azrael by a couple of years, but that didn’t matter to them. The minute Boston moved into Dave’s place, he and Azrael had become best friends.

Most days and nights, Boston had found the quiet and rather lonely teenager sitting on the roof. That first night, Boston had joined Azrael beneath the stars.

At first, Boston had silently sat without saying a word. As the days, weeks, and months passed, they began to talk about life and the shit that had happened in their pasts.

“You didn’t kill him though,” Boston said. “You were able to stop yourself.”

“I was scared for a minute.” Azrael plucked at a ripped hole in his ratty jeans.

“Me too,” Boston said. Even though he hadn’t been inside the store, he had heard the story.

“Stone told me that fear is what keeps us human,” Azrael said, tipping his head back against the wall.

Boston scoffed on a quick laugh. “What are we, if we’re not human?”

“Monsters,” Azrael whispered.

Boston couldn’t argue with that.