Chapter 45
Chapter Forty-Five
Azrael
Czar drives through the streets with urgency, shouting orders down the phone, and if I could construct a sentence right now, I’d tell him he’s a natural born leader.
“I want fucking confirmation the house is secure, do you hear me?” he barks.
He swerves around a truck, and I grip the oh-shit handle.
“Give me a body count within the next five minutes,” he shouts, then steals a glance at me before his attention darts back to the road.
“Put your fucking seatbelt on,” he snaps, and as if he’s commanding my body, I comply.
“Pull yourself together, Azrael. Whatever we’re walking into there, she’s going to need you.
” His grim words cause my stomach to twist the same way it did when I was forced to carry out vile acts I detested as a child, and I hate the way old wounds are being torn open, leaving me exposed.
Czar scans over me and shakes his head. “You’ve lost your fucking head.
” He stabs his finger into the side of his forehead. “Get your fucking head on straight!”
As we speed toward the mansion grounds, I unclip my seatbelt, pull another gun from beneath my seat, and check the clip before I tuck it in the front of my pants.
The gravel kicks up as he races toward the entrance, and I’m about to throw open my door until Czar grips my arm, pulling me back.
“Be the man she needs you to be. Make our women proud.” I know he’s not just talking about Hevan; maybe he’s talking about the redhead too, but deep in my tortured soul, I know he’s reflecting on our past as much as I am.
“Be worthy, Azrael. It’s what they deserve.
” I give him an abrupt nod, then throw open the door and head into destruction.