Jared came downstairs early the next day, wearing black running shorts and a hooded sweatshirt. The June morning was still chilly, but the bright sunrise promised a warm day ahead. He tightened his shoelaces and was about to head out the door for his run when noise from the kitchen stopped him short on the bottom step.

 

“It’s a risky job, Reese.” Jared tilted his head toward the kitchen at Gideon’s voice. He smelled the dark roast coffee that Gideon was brewing, heard the sound of a kitchen chair being scraped across the floor.

 

“When has that ever stopped me?” He couldn't see, but Reese’s voice held the smirk that Jared knew would be turning his lips upward. Lips that had looked softer than any man’s should be, even if they were surrounded by a permanent three-day stubble.

 

“Never, but this time you don’t have to go alone. There are three other skilled Renegades in this house, just itchin’ to get back to work.” The sound of coffee being poured could easily be heard in the ensuing silence.

 

“Itching to get back to work, maybe. Itching to work with me, not so much.” Jared peeked around the corner to see Reese slinging a duffel bag over his shoulder. “Thanks for the concern, Hatch, but I’ll be fine.”

 

“Yeah, well.” Gideon tossed Reese a set of keys. “Declan will kill me when he wakes up, but for now his Bronco is all I’ve got. Tires are actin’ funny on mine.”

 

Reese clapped Gideon on the back. “I’ll be back in a couple of days. Won’t keep Cooper’s truck any longer than I need to.”

 

Jared backed up the stairs, ready to make a reentry to the kitchen so it would look like he just got there.

 

Reese walked past the bottom step just as Jared set foot onto it. Jared fisted his hands together, fingers tangling nervously in the pocket of his sweatshirt.

 

“Morning.” Reese smiled at him, the look much too dazzling for only seven a.m.. “You come to see me off, then?”

 

Jared stared at him a bit dumbly, a hundred questions running through his mind. Where was Reese headed, how many rescues was he picking up, why did Jared want to hop into the passenger seat and go right along with him? “I run in the mornings.” Smooth, Jared, he thought to himself. Like he cares.

 

Reese chuckled softly. “Right.” He turned and headed outside.

 

Jared caught the door just before it slammed shut, and followed Reese down the driveway. The cotton fabric of Reese’s tee pulled tight across the muscles of his broad shoulders as he opened the rear door to the Bronco. Dark jeans and a plain black shirt really shouldn't look that good on anybody, Jared thought. And weren’t field Renegades supposed to wear cargoes, so they’d have endless pockets?

 

Not to be distracted, Jared asked, “What makes this job so risky?”

 

Reese tossed his duffel into the footwell of the backseat of the truck. “Anyone ever tell you it’s rude to eavesdrop?”

 

Jared ignored the dodge. “Gideon doesn't seem the type to worry very easily.”

 

“And you’re wondering why he’d be worried about someone like me?” Reese opened the driver’s side of the Bronco, his arm resting casually over the top of the door.

 

“I’m wondering what it is he’s so worried about.”

 

A small smile crossed Reese’s face, one that showed just the faintest hint of his dimples, but Jared could see hesitation in his stormy gaze. “Just another job, sweetheart, nothing I can’t handle.”  Reese studied him. “Although…” Those ocean eyes dropped to Jared’s mouth.

 

Jared could smell a hint of coffee when Reese bent his head and brushed his lips across Jared’s. His stubble made Jared’s cheeks tingle, and when Reese pressed his mouth to Jared’s a second time for another taste, Jared was too stunned to chase those soft lips with his own.

 

Reese pulled away and winked at him. “Just in case.”

 

The kiss was over as quickly as it had started. Feeling an odd pang of disappointment, Jared watched as Reese shrugged his broad shoulders into his leather jacket and donned a pair of sunglasses.

 

Before Jared could say anything, Reese hopped into the Bronco with a quick wave and drove off.

 

 

Halfway through dinner that night, Declan’s silverware clattered against his plate, and he squared a look at Gideon. “You trust him?”

 

Gideon took his time swirling a forkful of pasta. Before shoving it into his mouth, he met Declan’s eyes. “I'd trust Reese Slater with my life.”

 

Declan pushed back from the table, and lifted his hands. “Then what the hell are we doing here?”

 

Jared shifted uneasily in his chair, watching the two of them. Declan’s body was strung tight, like it had been when he’d first seen Reese pull up Gideon’s driveway.

 

“You’re here because I promised your daddy I’d keep you safe, if anything ever happened.”

 

Declan laughed, though it was without humor. “Something happened alright. And we’re just sitting here doing nothing.” He tapped his fingers against his thigh. “What kind of job is he on?”

 

“Declan-“

 

“Shit, Gideon, if we aren't out there helping, then at least tell us what kind of raid is going down.” Declan said. “We aren’t going to be holed up here forever, and I need to stay current on exactly where and what we are fighting.” Declan’s eyes narrowed. “Not to mention you gave him my goddamn truck.”

 

Jared studied his brother. He wasn't used to seeing Declan confused, and nothing flustered him more than a lack of information. As far as Jared knew, Declan hadn't had any contact with any other Renegades, at Gideon’s insistence that they all lay low for awhile. After Declan’s explanation the night before, Jared could understand why, though it did leave them a pretty far out of the loop.

 

“It’s the biggest raid the Agents have planned in awhile.” Gideon admitted. “A rescue camp in Utah.” He rose from the table and traded his beer for whiskey.

 

“I thought Renegades usually pulled raids on Agent compounds where rescues are being held, not the other way around,” Rae said.

 

“Since Vivienne took over, it’s been about half and half.” Gideon poured a hefty glass of whiskey. “Her Agents have been targeting certain camps and safe zones, places that are more than likely to have a high concentration of rescues. Trouble is, we don’t always know when and where Agent raids are going to be. Planning our own raids on compounds is dangerous, but we have a right decent success rate. But when Agents pull raids on random places, we’ve gotta move quick, and we are often shorthanded.”  He ran a hand down his face. “And to be honest, I ain't so sure that I didn't just send Reese into a goddamn battle zone.”

 

A sick feeling rolled through Jared’s stomach. Agent raids, and the consequent Renegade interceptions, could get dangerous for rescues. He’d lived through plenty of those situations himself, and back then there hadn't been near as many Renegades trying to help out.

 

“How many Agents?” Jared asked.

 

“Reese can handle it. He’s on the outskirts, on transport detail. Since he’s a runner, he ain't actually in on the raid-“

 

“How many?” Jared demanded.

 

Gideon took a swallow of his drink, and met Jared's eyes. “I’m guessing around a dozen, give or take.” He cleared his throat. “We’ve got only two trackers and three runners, including Reese.”

 

Jared pushed his plate of pasta away, feeling a sudden lack of appetite at Gideon’s reluctant admission.

 

Declan swore. “Then I need to be there,” he said. Jared thought of the camp of people that were about to have their already endangered lives threatened even more, and of the way Reese had looked at him before he had left, and silently agreed with his brother.

 

“Like hell you do.” Gideon poured a second glass of whiskey, pushed it into Declan’s hand. “You need to step back, make sure your head is on straight before you figure out what your next move is gonna be.”

 

“We’ve ‘stepped back’ for weeks now,” Declan argued. “We need a job,”

 

“You need to stay safe,” Gideon countered. “This is the first raid we’ve intercepted in awhile, and it’s a bit of a test run. The Agents have shown no signs of slowing down, but everyone has kind of been laying low since you took out one of their own. And it being Vivienne’s right hand man, no less.” Gideon crossed an arm over his midsection, cradling his glass in his large palm. “You show up in Salt Lake, and that’s it. Game over.”

 

“So, what, we’re supposed to just sit here in the middle of goddamn nowhere while Agents push raid after raid?” Declan asked angrily.

 

“This ‘middle of goddamn nowhere’ is keeping you safe right now, thank you very much. You go hittin’ a job site right now, your ass is as good as dead.” He glanced over at Jared. “Or worse.”

 

Declan blew out a breath, and tossed back the rest of his whiskey. “Shit.”

 

Ignoring the voice in the back of his mind that urged him not to, Jared spoke up. “We could go.” His voice was a quiet whisper underneath the tension that hung heavy in the kitchen, but three heads turned towards him. “Me and Rae. No one knows us.”

 

“You bet your ass they do.” Gideon took a long swallow of whiskey. “Everyone knows Johnathan had three kids.”

 

“But they don’t know our faces,” Jared argued. “Not like they do Declan’s.”

 

“He’s right,” Rae interjected. “The only one who saw us was William.” Her hand tightened around her beer bottle. “Rat bastard.”

 

“Bad idea,” Gideon said.

 

“You wouldn't know what you’re doing,” Declan stated at the same time.

 

“And whose fault is that?” Rae shoved her chair back and jumped to her feet. “You and dad never told us anything. He trained us to be soldiers but never showed us a battle plan. And you’re no better.” She glared at Declan. “Who the hell was holding that bastard at gunpoint when you walked in?”

 

“That was one guy, Rae.”

 

“One guy with a gun. The one guy that had killed dad.” Angry tears filled Rae’s eyes. “Don't act like that was nothing, Declan. Don’t you dare.”

 

Jared came up behind Rae, giving her shoulders a squeeze, and knew her well enough not to be offended when she shrugged him off. “You can’t stand there and tell us things are taking a fast dive into shitsville and then brush us off when we want to help.” Rae looked up, a watery fire burning in her blue grey eyes. “This is what dad was fighting for, what he was trying to prevent. Now he’s gone, and so is our home, and the fight is still here.”

 

Gideon and Declan exchanged a look. Swirling his drink, Gideon grudgingly agreed. “They ain't gonna stop.”

 

Declan shook his head, resigned. “No, they won’t. Not until every Renegade and rescue is wiped out.”

 

Jared tensed. “That’s impossible.” There were thousands of them that had been thrust into this world, marked with subcutaneous ink that others saw as a stain upon all of society, brainwashed into thinking that they weren't worthy of love, that they weren't enough. That they were dirty, tainted, unwanted. It was a feeling Jared knew all too well.

 

“Well, our current government insists that Agents make it their mission to try.” Gideon said roughly, interrupting Jared’s thoughts. He headed for his massive work desk and opened a large drawer. Pulling out a sheaf of papers, he looked up at Jared, then Rae and Declan in turn. “Renegades like your daddy made it a mission to stop them.” He spread out the papers, smoothing their crinkled edges and setting various weights from his desk at their corners to hold them flat. He looked at Declan. “Now that it’s known that you killed Kingsley, you’ll be number one on their list. I don’t reckon Agents take too kindly to someone murdering their own, or for that matter, double crossers.”

 

Jared’s head snapped up. Something unpleasant jogged loose in his memory. William had mentioned something, something about how badly Vivienne wanted to get her hands on Declan, and now Gideon’s words caused an unpleasant tightening in his chest. “Double crossers?”

 

Declan stepped toward him, and the uneasiness that had been rolling around in Jared’s stomach since Gideon had mentioned Reese heading into a battle zone kicked up ten notches. “Jare-“

 

“No.” Sharp currents of anger pulsed through Jared, and he curled his fingers into his palms to keep from lashing out. He remembered now, being confused at his brother’s last discussion with William. “You...you’re supposed to help people. You and dad, you guys were Renegades, not Agents. You fought to save ditchbreeds like me, tried to get us to shelters.”

 

“Hey!” Gideon reprimanded sharply. “Call ‘em rescues. You ain’t usin’ that ‘d’ word in here.”

 

“Damn right.” Declan’s eyes flashed. “Dad banned that term in our house, so like hell you’re gonna start using it now. That’s society’s dirty, shitty way of labeling what they don’t understand. You’re not one of them anymore.”

 

Jared shook his head, his wrist burning. “I’ll always be one of them.” He bit his lip. “And we constantly had to hide from Agents that tried to kidnap us, or rape us, or kill us.”  Jared’s brow furrowed in anger as he looked at Gideon and Declan. “And you worked with them?”

 

Declan didn't deny it.

 

Jared cried out. He barely felt it when Rae came up beside him to press herself gently against his side. “Declan?” she asked worriedly.

 

Gideon looked between them, then glared at Declan. “You gotta be shittin’ me.” He threw his files down onto the desk. “They don’t know?”

 

Declan sighed. “I was gonna tell them.” At Gideon’s empty look, he ran his hands over his face. “I figured the less they knew, the better.”

 

“Oh, for shit’s sake.” Gideon grabbed the bottle of whiskey.

 

“You worked with the Agents conducting these raids, and you didn't think you should tell us?” Rae’s entire body vibrated with anger. “We’ve spent years working the shelters, trying to rehome the rescues that you guys sent to us. People you saved from the streets, from the Agents. Shit went down at our shelters, too, you know. Jared and I have fended off plenty of Agents ourselves. Yet this whole time, you've been working with the very people that have countered us at every turn?”

 

“Met with,” Declan corrected. “Met, not worked-“

 

“And you spent the other night talking about trust,” Jared whispered.

 

“Jare.” Declan gripped his shoulder. “I didn't work with Agents. I only met with them to try and get information about Dad’s killer. But then during the meeting, Vivienne turned all smooth and charming, doing her damnedest to get me to defect from the Renegades and start working for her as an Agent. Which, I shouldn’t even have to say this, I would obviously never do.”

 

“That makes zero sense,” Rae said. “Why would she think someone who saves rescues would suddenly be okay with killing them?”

 

Declan paused. “Because she promised me your safety if I did.”

 

Rae cursed, her body vibrating with anger just like Jared’s. “Okay, so she wanted you to become an asshole Agent. I assume you gave her a gigantic middle finger.”

 

“She dragged me on a couple raids with them, wanted me to see the glory I was missing by not being an Agent.” Declan’s face twisted into a grimace. “I realize now she was just humoring me. Playing some kind of mind game I have yet to figure out. I didn’t hurt anyone, but I wasn’t exactly able to help, either.”

 

Jared’s throat tightened. “You defected.”

 

“I adapted.” A long silence stretched between them.

 

“He did what he had to do,” Gideon interjected. “And he got what word out he could to me, about the Agents’ next moves.”

 

“So you played along, except instead of conducting raids, you tipped him off about them.” Jared jutted his chin in Gideon’s direction.

 

Declan nodded. “Wasn't easy to get the word out, but yeah. Most of the time I could let Gideon or a couple others know when and where the raid was going down, and he’d send other Renegades to intercept them.”

 

“Most of the time?”

 

Declan looked away. “Most of the time.”

 

Jared pressed his back against the wall, fighting the urge to curl into himself. That meant the times that Declan couldn't get the word out, he had to play along and perform raids that no one Renegades were around to stop.

 

“We are the good guys, Jare.” Declan assured softly. “But sometimes that means all you can do is not get caught by the bad. I never stopped helping rescues, ever. If I had to pretend to fall in line with the Agents, I would pull rescues behind our trucks and then sneak them away through the woods so they could find another shelter. Or I hid them in the backs of vehicles of runners like Slater. But I had to be careful, doing it in plain freaking sight like that. If the Agents had found me out…”

 

“Desperate times, son,” Gideon told Jared.

 

“Jared,” Declan pleaded. “You have to believe me.”

 

Jared’s throat worked up and down. He did believe Declan, but the hurt was still there. He looked at Gideon. “You used to work in the field,” he guessed.

 

“I did.”

 

“But you don’t anymore.”

 

“Haven’t for awhile,” Gideon confirmed.

 

“Why?”

 

“Your daddy and I went way back,” Gideon explained. “Back before the government was the swamp full of Agents it is now, we trained together as Renegades. There’s always been a need, though never more than now.”

 

“But you split up,” Rae surmised. “Why?”

 

“Weren’t no hard feelings about it.” Gideon’s mouth curved. “Let’s just say Johnathan was always better at following orders than I was.” He gestured to the pile of papers on the desk. “Better at leading, too. I figured out quick that my services were much better used as a coordinator than a tracker. I knew everyone, hell I could make connections faster than Jared here can run. I started mapping out who was on our side, and who wasn't.” He waved a pile of bank statements. “Learned where our resources came from.”

 

“Gideon and a couple other coordinators like him give the Renegades our jobs. People like Slater and I carry them out. If all goes well, we are able to get them to shelters, to you guys.” Declan explained.

 

“Yeah, we’re familiar with that part.” Rae glared at Declan.

 

Jared studied his brother, hating the way his explanation for meeting with Vivienne and her Agents was starting to make sense. “So where does that leave us now?”

 

Gideon lifted a huge painting off the wall, revealing a gigantic map with different colored thumbtacks and highlighted routes scattered across its surface. Setting the painting, which was just a paper thin, practically weightless canvas aside, Gideon turned back and addressed all of them. “If you all are serious about wanting a job, there are plenty to be had. Much as I’d like to, keeping you locked down here won’t do a damn bit of good.”

 

When no one said a word to the contrary, Gideon pointed to the map. “This is the most comprehensive geographical list of every Renegade raid and interception, successful and otherwise, conducted in the last twelve months.” He gestured to various pins. “Red means Agents found us out, and we lost more than we saved. The number next to it is estimated casualties- both rescues and Renegades.” Gideon let that sink in.  “Green means we successfully avoided them, and got the rescues out. Purple marks prospective future hits, based on our best intel.”

 

Jared noticed the bright purple thumbtack sticking out about ten miles west of Salt Lake City. He had only a second to think of Reese before Gideon continued. “Yellow highlights and markers show our allies. X’s are our sanctuary cities, and the black dots mark our shelters.” He nodded to Jared and Rae. “You two are more than familiar with those.” Turning back to the map, he blew out a breath. “There’s a lot of purple on here, and believe you me, word has gotten out about William’s death at your hand. He was a well known leader for the Agents. It’s made a lot of Renegades more determined than ever to help, but for the ones who are on the fence, well. Let’s just say our numbers are down way more than I’d like.”

 

“Like five against a dozen,” Jared stated blandly.

 

Rae squeezed his hand. “He’ll make it back, Jare.”

 

Gideon tapped his fingers on the table. “The good news is, no one knows you’re here. Otherwise we’d all be long gone by now. My gal Iris is due here in a few days, along with a couple of her guys. We’ll combine intel, make a plan. Figure out where we hit next.” He looked back and forth between them all. “We sure as hell could use all the forces we’ve got, if the Renegades are ever gonna defeat Vivienne and her Agents.”

 

Jared heard the hesitation in his voice. “But?

 

Gideon pointed in the direction of the front door. “But the moment you step out there, the second you start fighting, that shield of safety is gone. Word is gonna get out that there are two other Cooper siblings alive and well, and kicking ass.” He picked up Declan’s glass of whiskey and finished it off. “Don’t think I need to warn you about the danger of that.”

 

“You said everyone already knows Johnathan has three kids,” Jared pointed out.

 

“And as you said, hardly anyone knows what you two look like,” Gideon conceded, gesturing towards him and Rae. “You join the fight, and that changes fast.”

 

“So what? We can handle ourselves. You guys think our shelter never got raided? Dad warned us about Agents our whole lives,” Rae said, not without bitterness. “We’ve always fought back.” She glared at Declan. “At least some of us.”

 

“I did what I had to in order to keep you safe. That’s never gonna change,” Declan growled. But he met her eyes, then Jared’s. “But I realize you’re both good, damn good, at what we do. It would be a waste to keep you on the sidelines.”

 

“Yeah well, luckily for us, that’s not your decision.” Rae walked past Declan, and looked straight at Gideon. “Where do we start?”

 

 

Declan’s bedroom door swung open just seconds after Jared had knocked on it, Declan’s surprised expression greeting him upon entry. Jared breezed past him, already dressed in a tee shirt and pajama pants.

 

“Jare.”

 

“It’s late, and I’m tired.” They had spent the rest of the evening talking about which cities were most likely to be hit by Agents in the near future, so they could figure out where the Renegades should focus their next jobs. The memorization of so much new information had Jared’s head buzzing.  He collapsed onto his makeshift bed on the floor, fixing his blankets and fluffing his pillow. “I don’t really feel like talking.”

 

“I just thought, I mean, after earlier-“

 

“Reese could come back any minute.” They both know it wasn't true, seeing as how he had left just that morning. “I don’t want to be in the bed if he needs it.” Jared laid on his back and threw an arm across his eyes.

 

Declan nodded wordlessly. He crawled back into bed and flicked off the light.

 

Jared was still awake several minutes later, and could tell by Declan’s uneven breathing that he was as well. His point was proven when Declan’s voice cut into the heavy silence. “I’ve still got you, Jare. Always.”

 

Jared swallowed, hard. It had been awhile since Declan had said those words, though it used to be often. It had been about twelve years now since the first time his brother said them, holding him down as Johnathan had painfully rid him of the stain that Jared had been born with. A permanent scar of pink, puffy flesh was less of a stigma than the inky mark it had once been, though he still needed to be careful where he let his guard down. Their recent night at the bar was proof of that.

 

Jared now at least knew how he had gotten the mark, and could almost understand why Johnathan had never explained it, fearing Jared would latch on to that which made him different.

 

Years since Johnathan Cooper had saved him from a life on the streets, and Jared still wasn't sure he deserved it.

 

It had hurt like holy hell, the stain being burned from his skin, but Johnathan had done it for Jared’s own good.  And throughout the entire ordeal, Declan had wrapped his entire body around Jared from behind, holding him through every second of the scorching, agonizing pain. I’ve got you, Jare. It’s okay, I got you.

 

Learning that his brother had even in any small way worked with the Agents almost hurt worse than his mark being burned off. But there hadn't been a day since Jared’s rescue that his Declan hadn't had his back, and Jared forever felt like nothing he could do would ever repay the shelter than Declan had given him. Now, in the quiet of their shared bedroom, Jared could more easily remind himself of that.

 

Jared lowered his arm from his eyes. “I know,” he whispered. “I got you, too.”