Play Dirty (Wages of Sin #2) - Neve Wilder Page 0,55

onto a barstool at the kitchen counter.

“It’s me he doesn’t trust.” Az opened the fridge and pulled a bottled water from the bottom shelf.

“Should I be worried?” Ronin arched a perfect brow, looking him up and down. “Are you hiding a weapon under all that dirt?”

“Several, in fact.” Az pulled a gun free from its holster and set it on the counter and then removed one from his ankle and the knife from his belt.

“Is that all?” Ronin’s toothy grin was as dazzling as it was dangerous. Az was willing to bet he got away with a lot looking the way he did. “Shooter, huh?”

Az chugged the icy water until the bottle was empty, even though his insides weren’t thanking him for it. “No. I’m a chemist, actually.”

Az could see the moment Ronin made the connection. “Azrael. The Angel of Death.”

“That’s me.” Az smiled then grimaced at the way his skin pulled at the sludge drying on his face.

“I’ve seen some of your work. It’s impressive.” Az wasn’t sure what to say to that exactly. Ronin wasn’t the first person to recognize his work, but something in his tone made Az leery. “Is Azrael your real name?”

Az frowned. In all his time as an assassin nobody had ever asked him that. “Why?”

Ronin shrugged. “It would be weirdly prophetic if your parents had looked at you and labeled you a killer at birth.”

Az never spoke of his parents. To anybody except Madigan, apparently. Best to just shut down this line of questioning now. “Azrael isn’t the name given to me at birth, but it was given to me by a parent. My father uttered it while he was choking on his own blood.”

Ronin blinked at Az for a long moment before flashing another smile. “You must be great at parties.”

This time, Az grinned back. “A barrel of laughs, I’m told.”

A phone vibrated, and Ronin pulled it free from his back pocket. “That’s my ride. The key card is in the table by the foyer. That will get you into the building. You still need the key to get into the apartment. It’s on the keyring hanging by the door. The info for the security system is there, too. See you around, Azrael.”

Ronin picked up his bag, and just like that he was gone, leaving Az alone in the kitchen. He popped his bottle in the recycling bin and was making his way toward the bedroom when Madi emerged from the bathroom, beads of water still clinging to him. His towel was slung low along his hips, accentuating the deep vee of his abdomen and the dark hair dusted over rigid muscle.

“Did he leave?” Madi asked, looking towards the now empty kitchen.

Az frowned but nodded. “Yes. Why were you acting so odd around him?”

Madi stared into the empty space once more before saying, “He was the perfect ten on the arm of my target back in Atlantic City. Kinda weird, no?”

“It is a strange coincidence. But there are only so many people in our line of work.”

Madi pulled the towel free, a smirk curling along his lips as he took his time running the towel over his head and face, his chest. Az wanted to go to his knees before Madi, kiss the bruises on his knees and thighs, the one on his ribs. Bury his face against the nest of curls at his groin, take his soft cock into his mouth and feel it harden on his tongue. Fuck. Az was filthy. Before he could even attempt getting into Madi’s metaphorical pants, he needed to shower.

Az sighed, his erection obvious. “You’re a tease, motek.”

“Go shower. I’ll figure out dinner.”

Az relayed the information from Ronin regarding ordering food and then headed to the bathroom to turn the water on, letting it heat up as he stripped off the clothing. It was going to be okay. Az would shower, get clean, they’d eat, and then Az would find some way to make Madi understand he’d never been in any real danger.

Icy water hit him as he stepped into the shower. “Gashti ka bacha!” he shouted, trying to make the water hotter, but it refused to relent.

From the kitchen, he heard Madi let out a full on belly laugh.

Az shook his head, cursing as he stepped back under the frigid stream. He supposed he deserved it. If he could make Madi laugh, he could make Madi forgive him. Right?

16

Madigan

Azrael’s indignant shriek at the cold water was a mild balm to the wound the fucker