The engine hums under my hands as I drive through the city, weaving between cars, pushing the SUV harder than I should. My knuckles grip the wheel tight, blood from the earlier fight drying on my skin.
I don't know where I'm going—just away.
The neon lights blur past, their colors reflecting off the windshield. My heart is still racing, adrenaline refusing to fade. My body aches, bruises forming under my clothes, but none of that matters right now.
I reach into my pocket, fingers brushing against a crumpled note. I already know what it says, but I pull it out anyway.
Elias Graves.
The name feels heavy, like a weight pressing down on me.
The second I read it, pain explodes in my head. A sharp, blinding ache cuts through my skull. Images flash—fast, chaotic. A man's voice, rough and urgent. A promise, broken. Gunfire.
I jerk the wheel, barely missing a parked car. My breath is ragged.
The name means something.
The flashes fade, leaving a dull throb in my head and a cold unease in my gut. I don't know this man, but my instincts scream that he has answers.
I just don't know if I want them.
I grip the wheel tighter and press down on the gas. The Oath won't stop hunting me. And right now, Elias Graves is the only lead I have.
I need to find him before they do.
The thought lingers, heavy in my mind, as I navigate the streets. I turn onto a quiet road, scanning for a place to ditch the SUV. It's hot now—probably tagged. I need to keep moving, stay ahead, stay hidden.
Then—I see it.
A flicker of movement in the rearview mirror.
Shit.
A black sedan. Two cars back. Tinted windows. Driving too smoothly, too carefully. They aren't just passing through.
I test them, turning down an unnecessary side street.
They follow.
Another turn.
Still there.
I curse under my breath. No time for subtlety.
I yank the wheel hard, swerving across lanes and flooring it down a narrow alley. Tires screech behind me as they struggle to keep up. My heart pounds as I take a sharp turn, nearly hitting a dumpster.
The SUV is too big for this kind of chase, but I push it to the limit.
Then—a gunshot.
The back window shatters.
They aren't waiting anymore.
I duck, gripping the wheel, swerving onto the next open road. I have to lose them. Now.
Up ahead—a red light. Cross traffic.
No time to stop.
I grip the wheel, brace myself, and plow through the intersection. Horns blare. Tires skid. I don't look back. If I hesitate, I'm dead.
The sedan tries to follow, but a delivery truck cuts them off, screeching to a stop inches from their bumper.
They're trapped. For now.
I don't waste the opportunity.
Three more quick turns and I'm gone, slipping into an underground parking garage.
I cut the engine.
Silence.
I sit still, forcing my breath to slow. My pulse is a war drum.
They found me too fast. Again.
I press my fingers to my temples, trying to fight the pounding headache. My mind feels like it's unraveling. Like memories are just out of reach, slipping through my fingers like smoke.
Elias Graves.
Who the hell is he?
And why do I feel like finding him will change everything?