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Ice turned when he found Azrael not moving.
“Come on, you’re safe here.”
The boy lifted his tormented eyes to his.
“Nowhere is safe.”
Ice took Azrael’s hand and urged him toward the house. There was no way out of Dave’s property once you went through the front gate, and that was mainly to keep suspects contained if they ever found a way to breach.
“Do I hear the beach?” the boy whispered.
“You do, and I bet you can swim in it later.” Ice pulled Azrael along the wide walkway, around the brick pillars, and up the front steps to where Echo and Dave’s doorman were waiting.
“All good?” Echo asked.
“Just a moment of jitters,” Ice said, urging Azrael into the house ahead of them.
Grit trotted immediately to the young boy and nuzzled into his hand.
Thank the powers that be for dogs.
Real, Savage, and Thane returned around three o’clock that afternoon with Ice’s SUV.
Echo had convinced Cash, Apollo, and Azrael to accompany him and Ice to the beach that lay several yards from the back of the massive garden.
Wearing tight swim briefs, the young assassins looked even younger as they played like wet seals in the water.
“Dave is pretty amazing, isn’t he? He got them clothes over the phone,” Echo said, turning his head to look at Ice. The man sat wearing swim trunks and sipping a beer.
“He is. A quick call to Wild, Storm, and Roscoe, and they were all over that.”
“Who are they?”
“Part of one of Dave’s specialty teams. Phoenix. Wild is filthy rich and they raised a boy about the twins’ age, plus two little ones.”
“I guess people can have families and work this type of work.”
“Not really. Those types of teams are different. They’re not like us. Why, do you want kids?”
“Not necessarily.” Echo gazed at the three in the water. “But I wouldn’t mind helping them.”
“Ah, I see, no diaper changing?”
Echo made a face and laughed. “Yeah, yuck.”
Real walked across the sand wearing blue jeans and a tight gray t-shirt, carrying a lawn chair. Placing the chair next to Ice, the former Navy SEAL took a seat.
Ice dug into the cooler that sat between them and handed Real a cold green bottle of beer. His friend gave an up-nod and cracked open the drink.
Real was looking toward the waves and Ice glanced over to see Apollo and Azrael dodging Cash, who looked determined to dunk the twins.
Cash and Apollo were laughing their asses off. Azrael was not. Nimbly, Azrael kept one step ahead of Cash, eyes wide, evading any and all lunges.
“How old are they?” Real murmured.
“Seventeen,” Echo said.
“Where are their parents?” Real asked.
