Chapter Eight
T ugging out his cell phone, Real answered the former Secretary of Defense’s call.
“Sir.”
“Where are you?” Dave’s deep sigh sounded tired.
“Is something wrong with Azrael?” Real countered instead of answering.
“No, no. He’s fine,” Dave said.
Shit. Real grimaced when his mind snapped as if on autopilot to the boy.
A seventeen-year-old boy. One traumatized by Solomon. So many reasons to stay away.
He’ll be eighteen later this month.
“What do you need?” He gripped the steering wheel tightly and stared at the Genesis building from the parking lot.
Dave hesitated and Real felt his gut tighten.
“What?”
“I’ve heard a rumor that there’s a rising power in SoCal.”
“What kind of power?”
“The kind that takes jobs we don’t.”
Real squeezed the steering wheel. That meant another assassin’s group.
Erebus’ leftovers.
Jobs where they couldn’t validate the hit.
So that meant there’d be killers out there who didn’t care if they were murdering innocent people. And anyone was fair game.
“Who is it?”
“From what I can gather, it’s a man who goes by the name of Blue. Nobody knows where he operates out of nor where the fuck he came from.”
“What do you suggest?”
“Just stay alert at the moment. I’ll call Savage.”
“Copy that.”
Dave ended the call and Real drove out of the parking lot, wondering who the fuck would dare encroach on Erebus’ territory.
Justice stared at Savage and then shot a glance at Echo and Ice.
“What?”
He’d been called into the Erebus office a few minutes ago and nobody was talking.
Savage finally drew in a breath and let out a deep sigh.
“It appears that a new group of assassins moved into Southern California,” Savage said and then went on to tell them what he knew, which wasn’t much. “They answer to a man who goes by the name of Blue.”
“Blue?” Echo gaped at Savage.
“Who the fuck is Blue?” Ice snarled, wrapping an arm protectively around Echo’s shoulder.
“He sold boys to Solomon,” Echo said with a hurried swallow.
The room went quiet.
“Did he sell Fisher to Solomon?” Justice asked, feeling sick to his stomach.
“No.” Echo shook his head with a frown.
Relief flooded through Justice, but his palms turned sweaty.
“Do you know what he looks like?” Savage said.
“From years ago, yeah. But are you sure it’s Blue? I thought Solomon killed him.”
“Not from what intel we’ve gathered. Echo, if you can get with Real, he has an artist that can make a sketch.”
“Yeah, I can do that.”
“The rest of you, I’m going to have you do some research. Find me information on Blue.”
“Will do.” Justice stood.
“And Justice?” Savage said and waited for him to turn around. “Why isn’t Fisher answering my calls?” Savage eyed him and Justice glanced away.
Fisher had been MIA over the past few days.
And Justice knew why. It was because he’d pushed Fisher to talk when he hadn’t been ready.
And it had cost him.
He rubbed a hand down his face. He needed to stop doing that shit to Fisher.
The man would or wouldn’t tell him in his own good time. And nothing he did could change that fact. So here he was, in the dark about Fisher’s whereabouts and past.
Bottom line was that Fisher didn’t trust him enough to share or even tell him where he was going and that fucking hurt.
But he wasn’t giving up.
If baby steps were what he needed to do, then so be it.
“Find out what he’s been doing,” Savage said, yanking his wandering thoughts back to the present.
“I’ll ask him.”
A half an hour later, Echo called him and Justice answered the phone.
He’d just gone to the store and was on his way home.
“What’s up?” He took the exit that would take him home.
“According to the word on the streets, Blue is not dead and he had taken over for Solomon.”
“Okay…so we end him.” He squeezed the wheel.
“What if he has places like Solomon did? What if there are kids in there?” Echo asked.
“Then we do the same thing. We find the locations and kill the son of a bitch.”
“Hang on, Justice,” Echo’s voice grew muffled as if he were handing over the phone.
“Where are you?” Savage said, coming on the line.
“At home.”
“Have you found Fisher?”
The gate to his home slid open and Justice drove through the entrance and pulled into his circular driveway.
“Why?”
He stared out the windshield at Fisher on his front steps.
The sexy assassin stared back.
“I want you to ask him if he personally knows Blue.”
“Yeah, ok.”
“And there’s one more thing.”
Justice waited because Savage’s voice had turned hard, but he also heard the tiredness.
“We got a tip on where Blue is located. I’m pulling all resources together and that means we need to keep Fisher and Rogue out of this.”
“Why?”
“Because it may have ties back to Solomon and that mess is volatile.”
“What about Echo?”
“He’s good, but I have no fucking idea about Fisher or Rogue.”
He had no response because he truly didn’t fucking know. He squeezed the steering wheel in a death grip and held Fisher’s gaze through the bug-speckled windshield.
“I have Wrath handling Rogue. You take care of Fisher,” Savage said.
“Okay. I’ll call you later.” Justice ended the call, grabbed the bag of groceries, and slid from his truck.
As he crossed the distance between them, his chest tightened. Just looking at Fisher made the lump in his throat grow.
Fisher stood up from the steps, looking nervous. Which was odd for a guy who killed people for a living.
Was it because of him?
Did he make Fisher nervous? He couldn’t say he wasn’t happy about it if that was the case, because he was.
Instead of speaking, Justice reached out and yanked Fisher into his arms. The feel of the man’s slender body sent his heart racing.
He wanted… no, he hoped for so much for them. Dipping his head into the crook of the man’s neck, Justice drew in a deep breath and hugged Fisher tightly.
If they could just stay like this and not have the world fuck with them, then they could make it. Maybe they could run away and live a life where murdering wasn’t their normal. A world where he got to wake up with Fisher and they’d eat breakfast in the mornings and talk about normal, everyday things.
“I’m sorry,” Fisher croaked.
It took a moment for it to dawn on him why Fisher was sorry. The man felt guilty because he’d left without a word days ago. But now Fisher was back and all the hurt melted away.
“Don’t be,” he muttered against Fisher’s skin and cupped handfuls of the man’s long, gorgeous hair before he drew back to guide Fisher into the house.
Closing the door, Justice flipped the lock and walked through the house toward the kitchen to drop off his groceries. The moment all the cold stuff was in the fridge, Fisher caught his hand before he could do any more.
Fisher pulled him toward the bedroom.
He was more than okay with that.
“I need to ask you some questions,” he said huskily when the man ran a warm palm beneath his shirt and over his bare abdomen.
Fisher snorted. “Later.”
It was sometime later that next afternoon, after having been up all night exploring each other’s bodies, that Fisher came awake through a quiet conversation Justice was having on the phone.
“Yes, sir. I understand. Make sure Blue is dead,” Justice said flatly.
The mention of Blue’s name jerked Fisher upright. His eyes flew around the room until they landed on Justice standing naked in the master suite bathroom doorway with a cell phone to his ear.
Everything from that night came flooding back.
Mouse was dead. The tiny adorable teenager would never look at him again with those trusting baby blue eyes and Fisher wanted vengeance.
But…
How the fuck did Justice know about Blue? Was it a hit?
Didn’t Erebus realize the guy was even more sick and twisted than Solomon had been? That there were others involved?
Like Beck? Blue had killed Mouse, which meant the fucker would surely kill Beck.
Beck was missing. That was his first order of business.
It was a fucking bad idea to kill Blue right now.
Fisher leaped off the bed and started gathering up his discarded clothes.
Justice was suddenly behind him, wrapping him in his arms.
“Take a shower first. I have some sweats you can cinch the waist and a t-shirt until you can get to your own clean clothes,” the man murmured.
A shower did sound good. He stood indecisive. “Who was that?”
“Ice.”
“Are you guys going to kill Blue?”
Justice sighed and hugged him tightly. “That’s the plan.”
“It’s a stupid fucking plan!” Fisher snapped.
“Take a shower and we’ll talk about it.” Justice took the clothes from his hands and drew him into the massive washroom.
“I can’t…” he protested.
His words petered out when he found himself pulled beneath the hot spray.
The walk-in shower could easily accommodate five people and he forgot what he wanted to say at the moment.
When Justice ran soapy hands over his warm body, caressing every scar he found, Fisher panted. And when Justice started on his cock, Fisher was protesting, but this time in a very different way.
Much later and when the water was cooling, Justice pulled him from the shower and left him alone after handing him a towel, a pair of gray sweats, and a black t-shirt with socks.
Everything was miles too big, but he tied the drawstring on the pants and made do until he could retrieve his gear from home.
Fisher sat on the edge of the bed and ran a towel half-assed over his wet hair.
Justice returned and handed him a glass of orange juice, and Fisher chugged it before setting the empty glass aside.
Wearing only a pair of ripped, faded blue jeans that rode low on his hips, Justice was a wet fucking dream and he had to wonder what the hell the guy saw in him.
He was a mess. He had problems. Justice had no fucking idea. He should leave.
Yet, he couldn’t help but stay. He’d been attracted to Justice from the moment they’d met, but he’d never thought it would be reciprocated.
Until it was.
When the grief from Mouse had been too much, Justice had been who he’d gone to see.
And here they were.
He found it weird that he was starting to trust Justice more than anyone in his life. Maybe even more than Echo and Rogue.
And that was saying something because trust wasn’t in his nature. It was something he’d lost a long fucking time ago and he’d never thought he’d get it back.
When Justice took the towel from his hands and started drying his long dark hair, Fisher closed his eyes and dropped his head back.
Fuck, he was so tired.
Bones weary all of the sudden…
“Come on, lay back and rest.” Justice eased him down on the bed.
Ahhh…
Fisher let out a sigh of relief. The pillow felt nice and he sank back into it, his muscles relaxing, his arms and legs feeling like lead. Like he was sinking into a warm, comfortable embrace.
He rolled his head to the side and smiled at Justice, who reached out and brushed his long damp hair away from his face. He struggled to keep his eyes open, but a heavy weight was dragging him down.
Something niggled at the back of his mind.
But floated away in the next moment.