DESPERATE, FEARLESS, AND HUNTED
For former Navy SEAL Dare O’Rourke, Section 8 was legendary. The son of one of its missing members, he grew up in the shadow of its secrets. All he knew was that it was a cabal of operatives discharged from branches of the military and reassigned to extremely dangerous, off- the-books international missions. And that their handler was as shrouded in mystery as the missions themselves.
NOTHING CAN STOP THEM. NOTHING CAN BREAK THEM.
Now the handler of Section 8 has given orders to kill any remaining members, along with their families. Dare must save his long-lost half sister, Avery, whom he was never meant to meet. Determined to fight for their lives and find their missing father, Dare and Avery bring together for one last mission those who are in danger because of thei
Now, in this shitty one- room apartment on the third floor in a building in the middle of Hell’s Kitchen, the pain started again. Her bags were packed on the floor in front of her, but an unmarked car had staked out the front of her building all night. But maybe she was more suspicious than ever, because they didn’t act like feds or cops— either group would’ve just come in and kicked the door down. She was wanted— there was no reason for such surveillance. She didn’t know if that was better or worse and decided that, either way, it was bad news.
The only way out was down the condemned, rick-ety fire escape, but her fear of heights hadn’t let her work up the nerve to head that way. Yet.
Another deep breath. Her hair stuck to the back of her neck despite the freezing- cold apartment. The heat wasn’t working, but complaining wasn’t an option since she wasn’t an official tenant.
When she knew there were most- wanted posters of her in the local post office, discretion and a low profile were warranted.
Mom, I’m sorry, but I had to . . .
She felt a sudden gust of air and whirled around, gun pulled. The man who stood silently in the middle of her living room seemed unconcerned about the weapon.
He must’ve come up the fire escape, but she’d sworn she’d locked that window.
“You picked the wrong place to rob,” she told him as she took in the handsome face and military posture.
“Avery, I’m here to save you.”
He knew her name. Undercover? PI? She tried to pretend he hadn’t thrown her. “I gave up on the prince-and- white- horse fantasy when I was seven.”
His mouth twitched. “Good. But now it’s me or the guys coming up the stairs.”
Guys, not cops or feds. She hadn’t been wrong . Shit.
“Who are you?”
“I know your father,” he said. “No time to explain further. Come on.”
The man was unblinking. The honesty coming from him could be an act, but she prided herself on her bullshit meter. Right now, this guy seemed the safer of the two options.
Another bounty hunter? Repo? He looked capable of anything, but she couldn’t afford not to take risks.
So when he slung both her bags over his shoulder, she followed her only way out. She’d been looking for information on her father— a man named Darius— for as long as she could remember, but it was like tracking a ghost.
When the past came knocking, she knew she had to answer the door.
“I’m scared of heights,” she told him when he’d gotten down to the level of grating below hers.
“You should be more scared of jail. They’ll eat you up in there.” His comments both scared and infuriated her, so much so that she followed him out onto the rusted stoop and down the stairs and was threading her way down behind him.
She hadn’t realized how fast they’d been going until her feet hit the ground with a hard thump on the con-crete. She found herself looking down the barrel of a mean old Sig. “I’m already following you.”
“Just making sure.” He motioned for her and caught her arm, hustled her to a waiting truck. She’d barely scrambled into the seat when the man was in his, cranking the old vehicle out of the alley.
She turned to see the unmarked car starting to make chase but she felt the truck speed up under her, as if there was something extra under the hood. Whatever it was, she was more than grateful. Maybe her mother really was looking out for her. “Who are you?”
He didn’t answer as he edged the car through traffic, winding along the side roads, and finally zoomed along the ramp toward the highway.
She turned to check trailing car’s progress.
“Don’t bother— I lost them,” he told her.
“You’re that sure of yourself?”
“I’m that good.”
That should’ve sounded cocky, but instead it came out like a simple truth from a handsome man who was no doubt a warrior.
Like your father . .
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Surrender Tour 4/1-4/8
4/4-5 The Smutketeers
4/5 The Book Tart
4/8 Talk Supe
About the Author
New York Times Bestselling author Stephanie Tyler writes what she loves to read – romantic suspense novels starring military heroes and paranormal romance novels novels starring warrior heroes, all complete with happy endings. She also co-writes as Sydney Croft. She lives in New York with her husband, her kids and her crazy Weimaraner, Gus.
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