My Fearless Fugitives (The Undertakers #2)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

ELIAS

My eyes flick to the clock, and I press the gas pedal down a little harder.

“Come on…” I mumble, desperate to get there as fast as I can. All of this was for nothing if I can’t beat the other agents to the safe house.

I’m hoping the fake trail I left for them keeps them occupied long enough for me to get in and get them out. But federal agents aren’t stupid; they’ll figure it out soon enough, especially since I vanished in the middle of my shift.

Speeding up a little more, I check my rearview mirror for any signs of pursuit. Nobody’s in sight, but that doesn’t settle my nerves. I need to see her, to hold her in my arms and know that she’s safe.

I turn onto the street where the safe house is located, and my body tightens with tension.

Please still be there.

There are so many fucking ways this plan can go wrong, and have, but I am so close to finally getting to see her in person again. After spending the past seven years only getting to watch her through cameras, I am finally moments away from getting to lay my eyes on her.

They better not have harmed a single hair on her head.

My knuckles turn white as I grip the steering wheel tightly at the thought of those four criminals being alone with Wren for the past two weeks.

I knew it was insane to seek their help, but I’d done extensive research into all four of them.

Were they wrongfully convicted of crimes they didn't commit? Yes. Had they all previously murdered multiple people? Also yes. But every person they killed was one of Robert’s men, except for Sly.

I was pretty sure he was killing men who hadn’t been brought to justice, thanks to his dad.

I wasn’t sure if any of them knew that all the men they’d killed in the past years were Robert’s, as they didn’t seem to have any connection to one another before prison, but it gave me hope that they would be on my side in this war.

Because that’s what we are heading into—a war, one with three sides.

First, there’s Robert and Ivan, the biggest threats, men who secretly rule with iron fists and zero empathy for innocent people who get in their way.

On the other side, you have the FBI. They’ve been watching both of them for years but have no usable evidence to put either man away, something that infuriates me.

And that’s why this war has a third side. Mine. I agreed with the FBI that both men needed to be taken down, but they were taking far too long to do so. Waiting for them to slip up and leave evidence damning enough to get them locked away for a long time wasn’t going to happen. They were too smart.

These men didn’t play by the rules, so neither would I. Not anymore.

The safe house comes into view, and I quickly scan the area for my SUV, but I see no sign of it.

Maybe they parked somewhere else? Deciding I need to be ready for a quick getaway, I reverse into the next-door neighbor's empty drive, park the black sedan I borrowed from FBI headquarters, and jog across the lawn to the safe house's entrance.

Taking a quick glance over my shoulder to make sure the agents haven’t arrived yet, I punch the code into the lock, not even pausing to take a breath, knowing she could be right on the other side of this door.

I step inside and slam it shut behind me as I call out, “Rise and shine! It’s time to go!” No use sneaking in, there’s no time to waste.

I barely have time to blink before fast footsteps pound the floor coming in my direction. I barely have time to register Jason before metal whistles through the air toward me.

“Shit!” I duck hard to the side as a dagger slices past my head and buries itself in the door behind me. My heart jumps, but my taser’s already out. I’d prefer not to use it as it will slow us down, but I wasn’t about to let myself get killed, either. “Dude, what the fuck was that for?”

He looks like a live wire, muscles coiled tight, another knife in hand, and teeth bared like a feral dog. His expression is all murder and rage.

He charges. I don’t hesitate to squeeze the trigger, and the taser wires shoot out, cracking through the air before hitting him square in the chest. His body locks up, every muscle going rigid as he drops hard to the ground.

Fuck, this is going to cause a problem.

“Jagger!” A woman’s voice pierces the chaos.

Wren. The sound of her screaming his name hits harder than I expect.

I start to spin in the direction of her voice, but she jumps on my back, radiating pure fury.

She’s small but deceptively strong, wrapping her arm tight around my neck.

The taser clatters to the floor as I lift my hands in surrender, trying not to hurt her.

“Stop!” I yell, twisting just enough to keep her from cutting off my air. Her screams are full of raw emotion and panic.

“You shot him!” she shouts, her fist hammering into my shoulder. It doesn’t hurt, but the heartbreak in her voice does.

“He was going to stab me!” I protest, realizing how useless that sounds when her world is clearly him.

“I’ll kill you!”

For a split second, I can’t help it; the irony hits me. The girl I risked everything to save is threatening to kill me.

“He’ll be fine, Wren! I just tased him!” I manage between breaths as I try to keep her arm from cutting off my airway.

She freezes, my words finally halting her assault as she glances over at Jason—no, not Jason. They call him Jagger.

“Who the fuck are you?” Peter demands, his voice edged in anger.

“I’m Elias.”

I feel her head snap back toward me as her arm slowly starts to ease up on my neck. “Elias?” she whispers in disbelief.

I glance over my shoulder at her, softening my tone. “Hi, sweetheart. Miss me?”

Her arm loosens from around my throat, and she slides down to the floor. The air between us shifts instantly. No longer is she angry and filled with rage. Instead, it’s shock, pain, recognition, and disbelief that’s shining in her eyes.

“You’re the asshole that left her!” Another voice growls. That must be Dexter Sutherland.

I ignore him and turn to face her fully. Up close, finally seeing her with my own eyes after seven years… it hits me like a freight train. She’s the same, and yet completely different. Still as beautiful as ever. But she looks stronger, like she’s no longer hiding.

I reach up and cup her face gently, searching her eyes. She grabs my forearms, trembling with questions. “How are you here right now? Where have you been?”

“We can chat later. Right now, we need to get you all out of here before the feds arrive.” I grab her hand, tugging her toward the hall, not willing to let her out of my sight.

That gets everyone moving.

We hit the far wall, where a painting of a deer hangs. I swing it open, revealing the hidden digital pad. “You led the feds to us?” Someone accuses. It must be Sylvester.

I sigh, pressing my palm to the scanner, wishing I didn’t have to explain all of this right now. We needed to get out of here. “I didn’t lead them here,” I say, waiting for the pad to accept my print. “You did.”

“What does that mean?” Peter asks in anger.

The pad beeps, and the wall groans, splitting open to reveal the hidden door.

“This is an FBI safe house,” I explain as I pull it open and step through. “They knew about your presence the second you opened the door. The only reason they haven’t stormed the place yet is that I sent out a fake signal indicating it’d already been checked.”

The others follow, wide-eyed, as the hidden room is revealed, a small armory of supplies and weapons.

Peter whistles low. “Holy shit balls.”

I move fast, grabbing duffel bags from a bin and tossing them onto the table. “Any minute now, they’ll realize that signal’s a fake. And when they do, they won’t care what you have to say. You four will be back behind bars before you can blink, and they’ll arrest Wren for harboring fugitives.”

“Like fuck they will!” Peter snaps, grabbing a gun off the wall.

“Help me fill these bags,” I order, pointing to the weapons. “We need to move quickly.”

To my surprise, they obey. There’s no trust in their eyes yet, but at least they aren’t trying to kill me anymore.

I catch Wren glancing at me between movements, uncertainty shadowing her face. She’s trying to figure out if I’m the same person she used to know. The best friend who grew up with her, the only person she could be real with.

“Okay, this will have to do. We need to get out of here,” I say, slinging one of the loaded bags over my shoulder. “We’re exiting here.” I nod toward the narrow side door leading out the side of the house.

“We need to grab our bags,” Dex says.

“Be quick,” I tell him.

Three of them rush off, and I’m left alone with Wren and Sly, and he watches me like he’s ready to tear me apart.

“Elias, I don’t understand. How do you know all of this?” Wren asks.

I meet her gaze. She deserves the truth. “Because I’m one of them.”

Her breath catches. “You’re an FBI agent?”

“Well,” I say, shifting the bag higher on my shoulder, “I doubt I am anymore. Not after what I did.”

She steps closer, hand trembling slightly as it lands on my arm. “Elias… what did you do?”

I look around at the men returning with their gear, hardened, angry, but alive because of me.

Looking into those beautiful blue eyes, I tell her, “I helped all of you escape.”

The words barely leave my mouth before the front door explodes open. Glass shatters down the hall, and heavy footsteps come running toward us.

Quickly, I reach into the bag on my shoulder and instantly find the can I’m searching for.

I spin just as a dozen FBI and SWAT agents in black tactical gear flood the house, guns raised.

“Hands up! You’re all under arrest!”

I don’t hesitate to press the release on the smoke grenade and toss it in the agents' direction.