Free Surrender by Stephanie Tyler Page A

the door in seconds, flicking the lights off as he went, just in time for the truck to come barreling around the corner. He ducked along the side of the porch and crouched, weapon drawn.
    The truck slowed, the passenger’s side window came down and he saw a woman with long hair peering out into the porch.
    “Grace, are you there?” she called, and he held his damned breath, hoping Grace wouldn’t be stupid enough to answer. The last thing he needed was two female hostages; he wasn’t very effective at keeping even one controlled.
    Granted, he’d gotten more out of her when he didn’t have her tied like a wild hog, but still . . .
    “Grace!” the woman called loudly. Beeped a few times and was met with silence beyond the pattering rain. She shut the window and drove away slowly. He had no idea if she’d be back. No idea if he could trust Grace to lie to her on the phone so she wouldn’t return.
    He’d have to convince Grace it would be in her friend’s best interest for her to lie.

Chapter Ten
    E arlier that evening, Grace had been fighting for a woman’s life. Now she was supposed to be fighting for her own, and she realized she’d gotten the familiar feelings of warning all mixed up.
    This was what was coming down the pike for her. She’d become so focused on another woman’s safety that she’d compromised her own.
    Marnie. Her friend. Her safety net. Marnie, who understood when Grace took foolish risks, because she did the same thing. They were women who’d danced around violence their entire lives. They knew no other way, and they probably never would.
    She and Marnie always expected the harshness of the violence because of their backgrounds and this job they did, but they were still somehow always surprised by it.
    No matter how prepared they were, it was never enough.
    Carmen waited for them in the small courtyard as they’d asked—staying inside her apartment wouldn’t allow her to run or scream if Marcus arrived. And she’d been spotted by him by the time Marnie and Grace arrived. Marcus was a repeat offender—a violent rapist and abuser—and he had Carmen pinned under him, a hand across her throat, the other between her legs.
    He had nothing to lose. Carmen—and Grace and Marnie—had everything to.
    Beside her, Marnie retched and Grace fought back a scream. Instead, she steadily aimed the gun at the side of Marcus’s head, where it wouldn’t affect Carmen at all.
    “You get off her,” she told him, “or I’ll kill you.”
    Maybe she should kill him anyway, do a little vigilante justice, because this man would keep finding Carmen until he killed her. He’d never be put away long enough for her to ever get safe, let alone feel that way.
    Grace knew all too well how that felt. The need for vengeance ran deep and hot in her blood, a need retriggered when she went on these calls or met with a victim or woke from one of her nightmares.
    She was as screwed up as these women, which was why they trusted her so much.
    Marcus wasn’t moving. Instead, he shifted, which caused her to lose her position with the gun as he goddamned spat at her. She aimed quickly at his leg and let off a shot. The night was heavy, thick with violence, and the force of her shot barely shattered it, swam through the heavy murk of darkness and despair and hit where she’d aimed. When he stared between her and the tree next to him, he appeared stunned, and it gave Carmen time enough to bring her palm up into his nose and slam him backwards. His bone crunched, blood spattered and Carmen was free and running, Marnie going after her.
    Which left Grace alone with Marcus, and he was up and coming for her fast. Didn’t seem to care that the gun was between them. And she would not die tonight.
    “I’ll take care of you once and for all, bitch!” he yelled and continued onward like a freight train. She braced herself to shoot and then realized that Marnie had done it for her, taking Marcus down with a shot to his