Surrender A Section 8 Novel

Chapter Nineteen





Gunner stayed with Grace for the better part of an hour. When he came back out, Dare noted that she was sleeping comfortably.

“No narcotics, right?” he asked.

Gunner nodded with a small frown. “She told me the same thing. Bad reaction?”

“Something like that.”

“How long have you had her here?”

“Less than forty-eight hours.”

“And you almost killed her,” Gunner said furiously.

“I didn’t cause her fever.”

“Might as well have. She’s dehydrated too. What the hell?”

Ah, f*ck. Dare ran a hand through his hair. “I think she might’ve had a panic attack.”

“Did she black out?”

“No.”

“Sometimes high fevers can cause seizures.”

“She saw a friend get killed. Not by me.”

“You might possibly be the worst kidnapper ever,” Gunner told him. “And that’s not a compliment.”

“Get off my back, Gunner.”

“You were the one who called me in to babysit your sister.”

“Babysit me?” Avery interjected from behind them. Shit, Dare hadn’t even heard her coming. “Is that what you’ve been doing?”

“Not very well,” Dare muttered, but Gunner wasn’t having that. Because he knew about Powell—Avery had slipped and told him. Even though Avery hadn’t mentioned the mistake to Dare, he could see the look of pure ice in Gunner’s eyes when he’d come into the house.

“What the f*ck were you thinking?” Gunner asked quietly now, his voice a razor in the dusk. “You’re calling me to help you. You care about Grace.”

“So?”

“You now care about the only thing standing between you and certain death. Do I really need to explain that?” Gunner asked Dare. “F*ck you for dragging me into this.”

“You’ve been in worse,” Dare informed him, and Gunner’s fists clenched.

“Richard Powell’s kid? Really? You thought you could take Powell’s kid and walk away unscathed? You’re in some serious shit with this, and you sent your sister to fool me.” Gunner turned to Avery. “You realize how much trouble you’re in? Quadruple it from what I told you last night.”

“Back out now if you want,” Dare told him.

Gunner threw his bag across the room. “I’d rather beat the shit out of you.”

“Go ahead—but get Grace better first.”

“I already gave her prescription ibuprofen for the pain and fever; that will make her sleep it off. Antibiotics won’t do shit. As for the rest of it, f*ck. Just f*ck.” Gunner ran both hands through his hair, and Avery felt a thin trickle of sweat bead up between her breasts.

She told him, “Dare said you were like family. I need family.”

“Ah, come on, Avery, don’t pull that guilt shit with me.” Gunner sounded so frustrated that she wondered why he was in the business he was in if he didn’t deal well with danger. Somehow this was different, and she needed to figure out why. There was apparently a huge learning curve that went along with being Darius’s kid. She needed to shorten her educational time.

Gunner stormed out onto the porch, and both she and Dare followed him.

“Powell’s not invincible,” Dare pointed out. “Obviously, he’s got a weakness, and she’s inside that room.”

“We’re all f*cked. Everything Powell comes in contact with, he destroys. That’s why I never took any jobs that concerned him. And now I’m involved up to my goddamned neck.” Gunner sat down heavily, let his legs dangle off the porch. Even though there was only a brackish trickle of water, and tall grasses and twenty feet between the porch and the water, Avery wondered if there were any gators that wandered up here. She’d seen them, their sleek heads sliding through the dark waters as Gunner’s Kodiak cut through the brackish murk easily, and she didn’t want to get any closer.

“If we’re all f*cked, then maybe sticking together’s the best thing to do,” she said.

Gunner looked up at the sky and laughed quietly, resigned. “Key’s involved in this somehow,” he told her. “So whatever’s going on between you two—”

“Key?” Dare said slowly.

“You know Key too?” she asked. “He and Jem were asking about you.”

“Jem’s his brother—former CIA,” Gunner clarified for Dare, and then it was Dare’s turn to curse.

“What the hell’s going on between you and Key?” Dare demanded angrily.

“Nothing. Will the two of you concentrate on the business at hand and not my love life?”

“Love life?” Dare asked, and she sighed.

“Forget it. That’s not what I meant. Can we focus on what’s going on here, please?” Avery asked.

Dare nodded. “You guys will stay here tonight,” he said. “Avery, in the morning, I need you to go to Grace’s house. Use her key—say you’re her cousin if anyone asks. She went out of town unexpectedly and she asked you to grab a few things of hers.”

“What do you really want me to do?”

“Find anything that proves to me she’s on the up-and-up,” Dare said.

“And if she’s not?”

“I’ll deal with her.”

She wanted to tell him that he was so far beyond dealing with her that it wasn’t funny, but she didn’t. Not now, anyway.

“I think Powell’s guys are around the bayou,” Dare told Gunner.

“That dead friend of Grace’s you mentioned earlier?” Gunner asked, then continued without waiting for an answer. “What about Key and Jem? They’re not going to stop poking around for you. Want to share what that’s all about?”

“Not especially.” Dare stared up at the porch’s old ceiling beams before looking back at Avery and Gunner. “After you check Grace’s house for me, you two go back to the shop, find Key and Jem and bring them here.”

“We are being herded together—I just can’t tell if it’s you or Rip who’s doing it,” Gunner told him angrily.

“Neither can I,” Dare said. “Neither can I.”