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Page 12 of Midnight’s Captive (Stroke of Midnight #2)

Crap. He’d been too eager.

Ash nursed his drink and watched the Jack move.

The Jack. He still didn’t know her name. But the title suited her. Purpose and efficiency radiated off her. She smiled at customers, bantered with her staff, but never lost that indefinable something that said she was in charge. There was nothing sexier than a woman who knew she was at the top of her game.

Looking back, Ash recognized that he had never understood exactly how Razor Jack’s worked. That the name was a title. He’d just assumed it was pretension on the part of the owner, calling himself “the.”

He’d been an idiot back then. Five years ago, he’d been on top of the world, no fear, all ego. And then he’d brought it all tumbling down on them.

Ash stared into his drink. He should have waited until their meeting tomorrow. But spending time with Hope always left him with a lingering sadness and need to burn it off. He’d been walking to Razor Jack’s before he’d consciously realized it.

The window to free Hope—and maybe himself—was closing. Working directly under Portia Tremaine to discover who had hacked the system for Leopold Brunswick—to uncover his own crimes—younger Ash would have laughed at the challenge.

Older and wiser Ash practically pissed himself when he thought about it too hard.

The Jack was the only contact from the old days who might be able to help him. Except the Jack he expected wasn’t the Jack he’d gotten. And now he had to convince her to help him.

But how?

Ash pondered the little he knew about the new Jack while he nursed the surprisingly tasty concoction she’d made for him. It looked—and tasted—like sunshine. She served much better liquor than the old Jack.

However, like the old Jack, she would solve problems for a price. And she didn’t appear to dabble in the less-savory businesses that the old Jack had. Last night while he’d waited for his meeting, not once had he seen any hint of the prostitution and drug deals that had usually occurred here.

That was the one slim hope that he clung to. If she’d gotten rid of the prostitution, maybe she’d have a softer heart for his sister.

Someone stepped up to the bar, jostling Ash in their attempt to get the Jack’s attention.

Ash flinched as the scent of sweat and days-old food assaulted him, throwing him into the past.

He knew that smell. Had worn it himself after a particularly long session ported into the computer.

Hand tightening around the glass, Ash fought the memories of Tremaine Security crashing into the hackers’ den. They’d destroyed thousands of credits worth of equipment as they rushed him and he hadn’t cared. Hadn’t even tried to escape. Cross-legged on the floor, cradling his baby sister and begging her to wake up, he’d expected them to kill him on the spot. And he hadn’t given a damn.

He could still see Hope’s face, frozen in a little smile. She’d been right behind him when he’d pulled out of the network. But not fast enough.

Fuck! Get a hold of yourself!

He leaned away from the newcomer at the bar. He was no good to Hope if he couldn’t pull his shit together and convince the Jack to help him.

Ash focused on slowing his racing pulse. His hand shook as he brought the glass to his lips and downed the last of his drink in one gulp. The glass hit the counter harder than he intended.

Raising his hand to get the Jack’s attention, he drew his neighbor’s notice.

“Busy night, huh? I’ve been trying to get her attention forever.”

“Yep.” Ash was in no mood for small talk.

“The bartender’s smokin’,” the guy said.

He couldn’t argue with that. “Yep.” Done with the conversation, he renewed his efforts to get the Jack to come back to his end of the bar.

The guy jostled Ash again and he turned to glare at him. The other man started to apologize then stared at Ash. “Hey, wait. I know you.”

Shit. Ash recognized him too. Didn’t remember his name. The guy’d been a decent hacker, but not as good as Ash. Definitely not part of the crew. “I think you’ve got the wrong guy.”

So much for another drink. Ash had to get the fuck out of here. He peeled the guy’s fingers off his shoulder and stood.

The guy refused to give up and grabbed Ash’s arm again. “No, wait. I do. You’re a hacker. Dangit, what’s your handle again?”

Ash shook him loose and looked away. No reason to give the guy a good, close look. “Sorry, you’ve got me confused with someone else.”

“Some kind of bird or shit...” The other man snapped his fingers. “Got it! Fēnix! What happened, man? You were like the best of the best and then you disappeared. You and that sister of yours. Damn, she was hot!”

Ash’s vision flickered and his ears buzzed. One minute he was standing by the bar, the next, his fist was connecting with the guy’s jaw, slamming the asshole against the counter.

Goddamnfuck, that hurt.

He shook his hand out and ignored the throbbing.

Ash grabbed his opponent’s shirt. All around them, other patrons jostled to get out of the way. Their claps and cheers were barely audible over the white noise of anger in his mind.

The other hacker threw a weak-ass punch toward Ash’s middle. He sucked in his breath, bracing for the hit, and arched to the side. The guy got nothing but air.

Ash grabbed the guy’s shirt with one hand and held him in place while he punched him repeatedly. “Nobody talks about my sister that way!”

“Shit, man, I’m sorry!” He couldn’t defend against all the punches as Ash hit him in the face, side, and stomach with no apparent pattern. “I’m sorry! Okay? I’m sorry!”

The other guy started crying.

Hands wrapped around Ash’s upper arms and pulled him away from his opponent. He struggled against the restraint. “Hey, let me go!”

Ash kicked the person behind him.

“Oof!”

He kicked again, but his captor didn’t release him.

Fingers dug into his biceps. “Stand down,” a voice growled in his ear. Ash was dragged away from the other hacker.

Blood dripped down the man’s face as Ash leaned into one of the bouncers.

That would teach him.

The buzz had faded some, but Ash’s breath came out in harsh gasps.

And then the Jack stood in front of him, hands on her hips, a bar rag clenched in her fist. Her dark eyes shot fire.

“Damn, you’re like a beautiful avenging angel.” The words tumbled out.

She scowled. “What the hell are you doing?”

Ash stopped struggling. He had to make her understand. “He insulted my sister.”

Her scowl turned into a glare. His chance for help was slipping away. Then he saw a crack in her facade.

A tiny one.

Maybe it would be enough.

She continued to glare at him, giving nothing away. Then she turned to the other hacker.

Blood oozed from the guy’s nose and tears streamed down his face. He wasn’t restrained the way Ash was.

“That true? You insulted his sister?”

The guy gaped like a fish. “What? No. C’mon, I just said she was hot.” Or at least that was what it sounded like.

“Save me from fucking idiots,” the Jack muttered. “Get him cleaned up and out of my bar.” She pointed at Ash’s opponent. “I don’t want to see you in here for two weeks.”

“He started it!”

It sounded more like “He tharted it.” Someone had a broken nose. Good.

“I’m finishing it,” the Jack said.

Ash’s opponent opened his mouth to argue, then snapped it shut when the Jack turned her full attention on him. “Two weeks,” he mumbled in agreement.

“And you.” Ash’s smile faded under her withering gaze. “I don’t fucking care if he grabbed your dick. You don’t fight in my bar. Nobody fights in my bar!” She spoke loud enough for everyone in the bar to hear.

“Get him cleaned up, then take him to my office,” she directed the man holding Ash. “I’ll deal with him later.”

Was that good or bad? Had he just blown his chance to get the Jack’s help?

“I wouldn’t do that,” the other hacker said through his broken nose. “He’th a hacker. Uthed to be one of the beth.”

The Jack froze. Barely long enough for anyone to notice. But Ash noticed. A side effect of being unable to take his eyes off her. That’s when he knew.

She had secrets.

That familiar tickle of wanting to know them raced through him.

“Fuck.” She cursed under her breath. “Take him to my office and stay with him. Don’t let him go anywhere. Or touch anything.” Her dark eyes gaze met his with that command.

Yeah, she had secrets, all right.

Ash followed the bouncer, the one who’d escorted him out of her office last night, into the Jack’s office. But first they’d stopped at a first-aid room where Ash had cleaned up his hands and realized that he wouldn’t be able to hide the signs of a fight when he returned to Tremaine headquarters.

The pain pills hadn’t kicked in yet and his head throbbed like a sonofabitch.

The Jack stalked into her office, her wrath palpable, and he knew his headache was the least of his worries. She looked like what she was—a dangerous, deadly woman.

“Leave us,” she ordered the bouncer. With a grave nod, the man acknowledged the command and closed the door behind him.

When they were alone in her office, there were no secrets in her brown eyes. Only anger.

Lots and lots of anger.

It probably made him an asshole, but she was hot as hell.

He wasn’t stupid enough to say so out loud. The woman held his future in his hands. He watched her carefully.

“What the fuck were you thinking, starting a fight in my bar?” Even her raspy voice fit the image of a vengeful goddess, the kind you saw in comic books and vids and great tattoos.

He swallowed hard but met her gaze steadily. “He insulted my sister.”

Holding her gaze was harder than he expected, she was that pissed. Last night, he’d wondered how she gained and held the title of the Jack.

Now he understood.

“I don’t fucking care if he was talking shit about your mother. You come to me asking for a favor, and you fucking brawl in my business? Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kick your ass out now and ban you from the bar.”

“I gave you several hundred reasons yesterday.” He stepped closer.

Outrage flared in her eyes when he invaded her space. Outrage, anger, and a hint of something that might be attraction, but that couldn’t be right. Could it? Because he was pretty sure the same emotion was mirrored in his eyes.

She snorted. “Oh no. I earned those credits listening to your sob story. I don’t owe you anything else.”

She didn’t back down, not physically. Despite the blazing tension between them, Ash could tell the instant she disengaged.

Fuck! He’d blown his chance.

She confirmed it seconds later. “Get out, Mr. Cutter. And don’t bother coming back tomorrow night.”