Epilogue
One week later.
Location—Nevada
T he Nightfall Drifters Ranch was just waking up when Rebel stepped outside and onto the wide wooden porch that ran the length of the main house.
What still amazed him after the week he had been there were the sunrises. Even in mid-November, the weather was warm and sunny. The nights got down into the fifties, which was different than Northridge, California, but Rebel didn’t mind it.
After the heat of the day, he rather enjoyed the cool nights.
Of course, Crow kept him warm during the night so it was all good.
Thinking of Crow, Rebel glanced back as the screen door opened.
Instead of Crow, it was Rip who stepped out. The screen door snapped shut in the quiet morning and Rip stretched.
“Morning,” Rip said.
“Mornin’.” Rebel could see why Boston was so gaga over Rip.
Rip had black hair with cool blue eyes, the complete opposite of his brother. Where Wrath was a blond hunk, Rip was a dark stud. Both men were powerful and lethal in their own right.
Nothing compared to Crow, though. Rebel recalled the fight in the hotel after they’d attacked them that night. Crow had killed man after man, slicing and dicing. The assassin had even used their own guns and weapons against them.
Seeing how skilled and deadly Crow was, he should have known Crow would live.
“I thought you were dead. I had nothing to lose and I would have killed Jimmy even if he killed me.”
Crow shook when he had shared.
“Fucking hell…” Crow’s words had wobbled and the man clutched him tightly.
“I couldn’t let him have me,” Rebel admitted, choking the words out.
“I know, baby, I know,” Crow had muttered the words into his hair while holding him as if he were the most precious thing on earth.
“Have you talked to Boston?” Rip asked out of the blue, bringing him back to the wide wooden porch.
“Not since right after he got back to Dave’s place,” Rebel said.
The day Rip had demanded Boston go back to Dave’s had been explosive. In the end, though, Rip had won and Boston had been in Stone’s SUV.
Boston had refused to speak or even look at Rip as Stone drove them away.
Rebel knew that Rip was worried, but Boston was still underage and there was a barrier between them he suspected might be more than only age.
The screen door squeaked, gaining his attention, and Crow stepped out onto the porch holding two cups of coffee.
“You hitting on my boyfriend?” Crow squinted at Rip.
“What?” Rip held up his hands and snorted.
Rebel burst out laughing. The words caught him totally off guard.
“Since when am I your boyfriend?” he teased.
“Since now?” Crow quirked one eyebrow at him and handed him one of the cups.
Rebel took a long grateful sip of the hot creamy brew. When Crow stepped closer and slipped an arm around his waist, Rebel leaned against his strength.
This right here couldn’t be more perfect.
Standing with these men who treated him like an equal was something he hadn’t ever experienced before.
Having Crow at his side?
That was icing on the cake.
Crow smiled into Rebel’s hair and delivered a kiss to the top of the young man’s dark-haired head.
“You ready for next week?” Crow asked.
“I’m nervous.” Rebel ducked his head, tightly clutching his coffee cup.
“Don’t be, they’ll love you,” Crow said softly. “Mom already said she’s going to cook up a storm and Dad said he’ll teach you how to ride a horse.”
His parents were thrilled when he called and told them he was bringing Rebel home to Texas to meet them. Both of his parents had been his biggest supporters when he’d come out during high school.
Rebel darted a glance up, took a deep breath, and smiled.
Crow would kill for those smiles.
“I can’t wait,” Rebel said and Crow dipped his head down to kiss the man’s lips, tasting coffee and cream.
The screen door opened and Real stepped out onto the porch. Real had suddenly returned from out of state a few days ago.
Crow lifted his mouth from Rebel’s and shot his boss a searching look.
“Did you talk to Azrael?” Crow asked.
Real scowled at him, but Crow didn’t give a shit. Azrael had disappeared the day of Lincoln’s shooting and had yet to be found and Real had gone to California. It hadn’t been rocket science for him to figure out that Real had gone looking for Azrael.
“I couldn’t find him.” Real walked over to the railing and tightly gripped the wood.
“What are you going to do about it?” Crow asked.
Real gave him a look that said he was close to punching him in the face, but it didn’t bother Crow. He knew the reaction was an indication of just how much his boss cared about the missing young assassin.
“Your cabin should be ready this afternoon.” Real said, changing the subject.
“Thank you,” Crow said with a nod and squeezed Rebel. “You ready?”
“Hell yeah,” his young lover said.
They’d discussed over the past several days about living together and training together there at the ranch. Crow had taken Rebel to the cabin located a half a mile away from the main house.
Rebel had gazed at the cabin with bright eyes and hugged him tightly.
The young man’s voice shook, clogged with emotion.
Crow got it.
In a life filled with abuse and uncertainty, Rebel had never had a home he could call his own.
And Crow was going to give Rebel a home.
And the world if possible.
The End
Pre-order Real and Azrael’s story in Breathe (Genesis—Savage Warriors book one)