Chapter Sixteen
“ W elcome to Los Angeles International Airport,” the in-flight attendant said via the overhead speakers. “We hope you enjoy your stay.”
Real unbuckled his seatbelt and stood to grab his overnight bag from the overhead bin after the plane came to a full stop. Rather than purchase in-flight WIFI, he had shut his phone off and used the time to fucking sleep.
Turning his phone back on, it blew up with several missed calls and a message from both Rogue and Quick.
“Well, shit,” Real muttered, listening to the message from Rogue that simply said, “Call me back as soon as possible.” And he would call both of them back…as soon as he got on the road.
Reaching his jeep, Real left LAX and took the freeway toward home before he called back Rogue first.
“We have a situation.” Rogue’s voice came through Real’s speakers.
“What’s that?” Real frowned.
“It seems like Azrael is up in Redding and interfering with Jagger’s operation.”
“What the fuck?” Real scowled, squeezed the wheel of his jeep, and punched the gas.
“Why didn’t you call Dave?” Real growled.
“I called Azrael, but there was no answer,” Rogue snapped through his teeth. “You want me to call Dave?”
“No…” Real snarled, annoyed. “I’ll handle it.” He ended the call with Rogue and got over in the fast lane.
Dialing Dave’s number, it went straight to voicemail, and he slapped at the steering wheel and tried Azrael’s phone. There was no answer.
What the fuck?
He called the fucking guard shack and had them get security to go in and find Azrael. When they came back with nothing, Real suggested they check the roof.
“Sorry, sir, there’s no sign of him on the roof either and the window is closed,” the guard said.
Real ended the call. So that meant Azrael was more than likely with Jagger.
He punched in Jagger’s number and the man answered on the first ring.
“I’m sorry, boss,” Jagger said before he could say a word. “Quick suggested I call Rogue. Him and I go way back,” Jagger mumbled.
Real squeezed the wheel. If anything had happened to Azrael, he was going to kill them with his bare hands. He had to remind himself that Jagger was new. Real got it—he had to remind himself that the former Phoenix operative was new to Genesis. Jagger was one of a handful inside of Genesis that were not ex-military. The man was ex-CIA, as well as a highly trained killer, and those skills fit Genesis perfectly.
The order to call Rogue didn’t surprise him. Rogue was an independent party—the assassin neither worked for Genesis nor Erebus.
He sighed. And while he appreciated that Quick wanted to spare him the pressure of Azrael missing, this had caused him more stress than ever.
“Okay, sit tight,” Real told Jagger and ended the call.
After a moment, he punched in Quick’s number.
“Boss?”
“Talk to me,” he said.
“I only just found out that it was Azrael,” Quick said hurriedly. “If I had known earlier, I would have called you before you boarded the plane.”
“Rogue assumes it’s Azrael. Dave’s not answering, and I had the guard shack check the roof but can’t find him.”
“What now?” Quick said quietly.
“I’m going to Dave’s to check myself.”
It was roughly a two-hour drive in traffic from Los Angeles International Airport to Santa Barbara and when Real arrived at Dave’s estate, his heart was in his throat.
Azrael hadn’t picked up any of his calls.
And while that really didn’t surprise him, it pissed him off. The boy—scratch that, the young man—was still angry at him.
Like I’m not supposed to ever get laid?
Real squeezed the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white thinking of Azrael catching him with a casual fuck months ago. Oh, Azrael hadn’t been there in person, but hearing the one-night stand’s voice in the background during their brief phone call had pissed Azrael off more than he had ever seen.
Real called Dave’s guard shack ahead of time and his tires spun as he raced through the open gates.
Slamming out of his truck, he ran, ignoring the guards greeting him.
Inside, he took the stairs two at a time and didn’t even bother to knock. Shoving open Azrael’s bedroom door, he stepped inside and glanced around frantically.
The room was empty just like the guard had said.
He stalled hard, his head suddenly pounding, and sweat turned his palms damp. He knew the panic attack for what it was and thought to ride it out.
Until he noticed the window was now open.
Fuck! Air whipped into his lungs, and he stalked toward the opening.
Ducking down, Real stepped through the open window and once outside, he walked along the sloped roof to where it panned out flat.
He didn’t breathe well until he spotted that dark head of wind-tossed hair. It was only then that Real could once again suck in air like a normal human being.
Azrael sat on the edge of the roof with his arms wrapped around his bent knees, gazing at the ocean.
The teenager glanced over his shoulder and finding him there, those dark eyes snapped angrily at him. They had spent almost a week together over Christmas and Real had thought Azrael had gotten past his anger. By the look on the young man’s face, he was not even close to being forgiven.
Right now, Real didn’t give a fuck if Azrael was still pissed at him.
Just as long as there was life in the young man sitting before him.
As long as Azrael breathed, Real could sleep at night.