Page 13 of Escape into the Night

“Nope. Na-uh. The mistake would be letting them win. Since when do we let these fuckers scare us into silence? We don't. We’ll protect our family. We always do, El.” Caleb’s hands squeezed Elias’ knees to reinforce the ferocity of his words.

“A whole lot of good it's doing so far.” Elias pinched the bridge of his nose and screwed his eyes shut. The memory of Theo’s devastated expression and words of warning slammed into view in the space behind his eyelids. “Theo hates me. They are already destroying us.”

“Literally shut up. He doesn't hate you.” Elias could hear the eye roll in his husband’s tone. “He’s just scared. And so are you. We don't let fear define us, though. We use it to fight. So let’s give’em hell.”

“Here, here.” Matthew stepped around the table and rested a heavy hand on Elias’ shoulders. “Sparky’s right. Let’s give them hell.”

Elias tried to find solace in their words, but a sharp knock at the door and a half dozen FBI agents entering shortly after did little to assuage his fears and concerns. He had a dire feeling this was just the beginning, but Caleb was right. He'd never go down without a fight when it meant standing up for everything—and everyone—he loved.

It was many arduous hours later before Elias had a chance to sit down and simply breathe. His chest ached with residual tension and his weariness dulled the sharp edges of his emotions, compounded by playing the part of unaffected father during dinner and the bedtime routine Parker would never relinquish. Alone in his office, he sat with the weight of it all as he held his head in his hands. The soft-soled gait of his partner drew him out of his rumination before it could swallow him whole.

“I made you tea, baby doll.” The aroma of mint and chamomile wafted up to greet him as Caleb slid the mug onto the blotter. “Let me guess what's got your noggin in a noodle—you aren't backing out.”

A statement, not a question. Caleb knew him too well. “I can't. They made it personal.”

“Mmm. There’s my boss man. Stubborn as hell, sexy as fuck, and the gold standard for family men the world over.” Caleb propped a hip on the edge of the desk, but that wouldn't do. Elias grappled with his clothing, grabbing fistfuls of the fabric to yank Caleb from the desk and into his lap. Once he settled with a quiet laugh, Elias pulled him into the circle of his arms and inhaled the familiar scent, exhaling the residual tension as he basked in the closeness.

“I'm terrified, babe.”

“Me too. We all are. Fear is a healthy thing. Use it to fight, baby doll. Just don't let it take over. I won't lose you to them orto the fear.” Caleb shifted and pressed a kiss to the tip of Elias’ nose. “As long as we stick together, those fuckers don't stand a chance.”

Elias huffed a muted laugh, nuzzling his nose into the curve of Caleb's neck as they relaxed together in the quiet peace of their office sanctuary. It was these moments that galvanized his resolve. He had so much to lose, but the risk of losing it was there whether he fought or not. He’d be damned if he went down without a fight. That much he knew without a shadow of a doubt. In fact, he'd fight even harder because of the stakes.

Chapter Seven

Luke

Luke’sdeskinthebullpen could barely contain the mountain of files and folders precariously scattered across the surface. His brain was even more chaotic in comparison. There was too much and yet not enough. Never enough. The information available to him was, at best, a glimpse of a shadow. His mind raced with intensity akin to that he'd experienced during any number of field operations in the Marines—high stakes and not nearly enough intel meant trusting his gut, but instincts wouldn't hold weight in a federal investigation. All he knew for sure was that someone, perhaps many someones, had their sights set on Elias and that meant they were all back in the crosshairs—if they'd ever actually been out of them.

He circled back to the center stack and the ominous note that had been hand delivered to Elias the day before. Unease over the knowledge that he was missing something vital kept him in limbo. There wasn't a damn thing any of them could do and that helpless feeling was a major trigger for him. Not for the first time, he regretted leaving the military if only because in the armed forces, his directives always came from above. He didn'tneed to figure out the next step because someone else was calling the shots. Sinking back in his chair, he spared a tense smile as Abriella approached.

“Anything, mi carino?” Her palms landed on the edge of the cluttered desk as she bent low, the waves of her auburn hair not yet corralled in a messy bun.

“Too much and never enough,” Luke bemoaned, snatching a pen between his fingers to flick one of the folders open. He didn't even want to touch the paperwork for how dirty it all seemed. “There's a big hole right here and I can't shake the feeling that we’re missing something massive.”

“Si. The dots connect, when we have them all.” She turned a folder to better read the contents before expelling a weighty breath.

Luke's finely-tuned senses registered Taz’ approach before he came into view. The soft scuff of well-worn Converse, the light-footed gait that hugged the periphery of any space, and then the familiar scent of his body wash announced his presence before the hushed words broke through the white noise of an always busy FBI bullpen.

“I might have found a few more of your dots,” he ventured quietly. Luke’s eyes gravitated toward the voice, a cursory glance setting his protective instincts into overdrive as the distress on Taz’ face became evident.

A brief moment of hesitation, the whitening of his fingers as he gripped the edges of a tablet, a shaky exhale, he spoke. “I found… I f-found…”

Luke acted before thinking. His hand reached out to grab a fistful of Taz’ sweatshirt and pulled him closer as he pivoted the chair in place. Taz came willingly, the docility of his movements betraying how tightly-wound his emotions were. Without second-guessing it, Luke spread his knees and muscled Taz to perch on his thigh, leaving his palms firmly planted onthe smaller man’s hips as a touchstone to keep him grounded. Frankly, he needed it just as much as Taz did.

Taz cleared his throat and settled the tablet on the mountain of slippery papers threatening to spill their grim contents all over the floor. “I dug into the backdoor for the forum and found a few tracers. I also ran a script on the information that got dumped and it revealed a breadcrumb trail of fuckery.”

Luke leaned over to skim the screen as Taz slowly scrolled through the details.

“Whoever did this also tapped into the Fed systems. At first, I assumed hackers, someone working outside the scope of the office, but…” Taz trailed off again, tension sloughing off him in palpable waves as his wary eyes darted around the room with an edge of paranoia and the anger he often used to hide his fear.

“T?” Bella’s voice was a mere breath. The hair on the nape of Luke’s neck stood on end.

Luke could feel his partner's breath quickening through the touch points between them. This was not good. He acted with decisive movements before the panic could spiral further. It took more strength than it should have to compel Taz to stand. “Your office, Timothy. Up you get.”

The three of them crossed the space, with Luke in the rear and numerous eyes tracking their progress. He made a mental note of each and every agent that glanced their way, cataloguing micro expressions and movements without conscious thought. Never had civilian life felt quite so much like a battlefield. He released a sigh as soon as the door shut behind them, and yet another as he watched Taz physically shake off his tension before collapsing into his computer chair.

“Talk, Taz.” Bella’s hand breached the distance and gently stroked a path through Taz’ mussy hair. Luke had to work hard to smother his smile as he spied the subtle softening of his lover's expression.

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