Surrender A Section 8 Novel - By Stephanie Tyler Page 0,18
your brother told you not to keep secrets from me.”
In fact, Dare had. You can trust him with everything—the more information he has on you, the better. Just don’t mention Powell—I’ll break that to him.
She just hadn’t been expecting to do it out in public like this, but it wasn’t like anyone could hear them over the band. Her confession would blend in. “Someone’s trying to kill me. And I’m also wanted for murder.”
Gunner cocked his head to stare at her. Did he want her to cry? Break down? She wouldn’t, nor would she apologize. She stared back at him, brows raised, daring him to question her further.
Of course he did, but he didn’t ask the one she’d expected. “Did anyone follow you—cops or assassins?”
“No. I came here with Dare.”
“And they’re trying to kill him as well?”
“Yes.”
Gunner shook his head. “Got plenty of ammo in the shop.”
“Comforting.” And it was. He didn’t seem to worry that she was marked. “When did you meet my brother?”
“I worked with his father a long time ago.”
“Darius is my father too,” she offered. “I didn’t know until recently.”
Gunner’s expression didn’t change, but his tone softened. “He was a good guy.”
The was nearly leveled her, but she decided that the jury was still out on the good-guy part. “I never met him. I don’t know anything about him except . . .” He never claimed me. “He lived a dangerous life and he got my mom killed.”
“Seems to me that women who get involved with dangerous men know what they’re getting into. Probably because they’ve got more than a little bit of hell on wheels in them to start with.”
There was no judgment in his tone, but she bristled anyway, probably because he spoke the truth. “I gave my momma hell,” she admitted.
“A wild child.”
“I guess. I didn’t have much to rebel against, but I couldn’t sit still. I was always looking around the corner for the next adventure. I grew up in the bounty office she owned. I learned there’s a really fine line between upstanding citizen and criminal.”
Gunner raised his beer. “Sometimes, there’s no line at all.”
She clinked her bottle against his. Wondered how much longer she’d keep holding up, holding on. It was expected of her. Necessary. She’d been doing it since she found Momma murdered, and that image was something she could shake from her mind only when she was doing something that required complete concentration.
After she’d killed the men who’d murdered her mother, she’d nearly buckled, forced herself to walk away before the police came.
She still didn’t understand how the police could’ve found her so quickly, but after Dare explained it, it all made sense.
She’d killed Powell’s men, and Powell sent more after her. It chilled her to think how close they’d gotten to her, what would’ve happened if Dare hadn’t gotten involved.
“Whoever’s after you must be pretty powerful. And pissed,” Gunner speculated. “Not every day I meet a female fugitive.”
She wanted to ask him how he knew that, but maybe she should be reassured. If he could peg her, he could identify danger.
At least he was on her side. She knew better than to deny what he’d said.
When more plates of food were plunked down, with Billie Jean still smirking, Avery looked up at her. “Look at me like that one more time and you’ll have no lips left to make that face.”
The words were quiet, the threat coming through loud and clear. Avery’s own expression must’ve told the tale, because Billie Jean backed away fast.
“Scaring away my ex-wife’s a good way to stay on my good side.” Gunner grinned as he spoke, then began digging into his gumbo. “Shit is hot—hope you’re ready.”
“What happens after we eat?”
“We change everything about you.”
Chapter Eight
After he finished playing the song, Dare waited another hour, then went into the house with a decisive bang of the door.
She didn’t jump, and he damned well knew she wasn’t asleep.
He took his time showering and changing and finished a hot cup of coffee in the kitchen, where he could continue to keep an eye on her.
With a dry pair of jeans and no shirt or shoes, he figured it was as good a time as any to get this talk with Grace Powell started.
By doing so, he would officially be reviving Section 8, without the consent of the CIA or any other official party. Actually, by kidnapping Grace, he’d done that. But the thought of bringing more people into it when it was his war