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Page 14 of Midnight’s Captive (Stroke of Midnight #2)

Tucked into a corner booth, Taryn nursed another cup of coffee. She’d lost count of how many she’d had since she woke up. Enough that Dani had noticed and every other time Taryn asked for a cup of coffee, her friend brought Taryn a glass of water. Annoying, but she knew it was done out of love.

After kicking Ash out last night, Taryn had thrown herself into making the rounds in the bar. See and be seen.

The Jack had been extra snarly last night, especially when a group of corporate drones—probably there on a dare—had tried to get handsy with one of the waitresses. Rhonda had managed to extricate herself from their grasping hands and hightailed it to the bar. Taryn had swooped in like an avenging angel and escorted them out of the building. With force.

She’d enjoyed it, but it hadn’t worked to get her mind off Ash. Or Hope.

It would be beyond foolish to go up against one of the corporations, especially Tremaine, Seattle’s homegrown multinational. But she couldn’t stop thinking about Hope. About how—hypothetically—Taryn would get her out of a corporate hospital. It was madness.

And, well, she was feeling a bit mad. The coffee mug rattled as she set it on the table with more force than intended.

Madness was the only excuse for wanting to see Ash stroll through those doors. Because if he did—no matter how much she wanted to see him—she’d have to kick him out again. The Jack’s reputation was only as good as the willingness to back it up. Last night, in the midst of her righteous anger, she’d informed her staff about his banishment.

She could lift it without reason, but if she did it now, she would look weak.

When her gaze skipped over the room and landed on the door again, Taryn knew she’d made a mistake. She could have—should have—found something else to do tonight. Get out and take the pulse of the city. Start scoping out her next project.

But no, she’d decided to watch over the business instead.

Idiot.

No matter how often she told herself it was because she was a hands-on boss, she knew it was a lie.

“I need to get a life.”

That’s what Dani told her—repeatedly. And every time she did, Taryn countered that she didn’t have time, that the bar needed her.

Truth was, Dani was right. Taryn wanted a life, wanted a relationship. Companionship and sex with someone who knew her.

Her. Taryn. Not just the Jack.

But she’d never been on a date in her life. Her dating options sucked. Either men were too intimidated by her title and power or they wanted to say they’d fucked the Jack.

“Assholes,” she muttered.

Taryn sipped water because additional caffeine would rile her up more.

She’d clawed her way out of circumstances that had left her scarred but not broken and had taken control of her life. Even worked her way back to having and enjoying sex. But those nights out of town where nobody knew her hadn’t been dates, they’d been therapy.

What would it be like to be with someone who cared?

And just like that, her thoughts circled back to Ash.

Dammit.

Two nights in a row she’d thought about him. Fantasized about him. Felt tingles in places she’d thought were dormant; it had been so long since she’d had sex.

Ash was a problem. Or a missed opportunity.

Who was she kidding? She’d banned him from the bar and most people were too scared of the Jack to challenge her.

The door opened and she looked at it again. Instead of the tall lanky man who occupied her thoughts, it was the last person she expected.

Ice slithered down her spine. Taryn scrambled out of her booth, but stayed in the shadows.

What the fuck was he doing here?

Giselle’s pimp strolled into the bar, with a swagger of someone who thought he owned the place.

“Oh hell no.” Scum like that had no place here.

She started forward, ready to throw his ass out, then stopped and studied the situation.

He was flanked by two men. Whether they were the same muscle from the night she rescued Giselle, Taryn didn’t know. Didn’t really care either. She’d make sure they all knew they weren’t welcome in Razor Jack’s.

The three men seemed pretty fucking clueless. They either didn’t notice or didn’t care that her security flanked them, ready to intervene at the first sign of trouble.

A fraction of her tension eased.

Her team was the best and she trusted them to handle this.

She watched from the shadows, ready to intervene if needed. The pimp radiated anger, his chest thrust out, his hands clenching and unclenching. She was sure he planned to use those fists if he found Giselle.

Thankfully she was still in the back—in her room or the living area—with strict instructions not to visit the front of the bar.

The pimp approached the bar and waved Dani over with the impatient movements of a man used to getting his way.

Dani approached with her usual smile. Taryn watched their interaction tensely. If he did anything to Dani...

Dani shook her head in response to whatever he asked.

His body language got more aggressive, but Dani never flinched.

Taryn knew what kind of will, what kind of strength, it took her friend not to flee.

This had to be bringing back unpleasant memories. Dammit . She should have stepped in to protect Dani.

Dani had been Taryn’s first rescue after she’d taken over the bar. Dani had come in looking for a place to get out of the weather and her pimp hadn’t liked that.

That had led to a fight. One Taryn had won.

That night Taryn had learned to keep a buffer between the bar and her other work. So how had Giselle’s pimp found her bar? Taryn chose her rescues carefully, usually from the outlying neighborhoods. His territory was on the other side of the city.

Dani’s brow wrinkled, but that was the only outward sign that she was getting bothered by the pimp.

Taryn hated sitting back while her people were in trouble. It went against everything she’d built since she took over the bar. Still, she’d realized early on that she wouldn’t always be there, so she’d ensured they were well-trained.

Daryl moved within reach of Dani. He was close enough to stop the pimp if—when—he became a problem.

The pimp slammed his hand down on the bar. Dani shook her head.

Twice more, the pimp tried to intimidate Dani. Each time, security stepped a few inches closer.

Finally, Dani shook her head, shrugged, and returned to her duties, serving the next person at the bar.

The pimp watched her but she ignored him. With another slap on the bar, he pushed away from the bar and whirled around. “Bitch!” Taryn read his lips and it took every fiber of her being to not launch herself at him.

He stormed toward the front door, radiating such a cloud of menace that patrons slid their chairs back to get out of his way. She almost laughed at the train of people as his muscle and her security followed him.

The pimp and his cronies were barely out the door when Taryn approached the bar.

She stopped directly in front of Dani. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She pulled a beer for a customer, outwardly calm, but Taryn noticed the fine shake in her hands.

“Are you sure?” After she’d delivered the drink, Taryn reached across the bar and grabbed Dani’s hand.

“I’m fine, I promise.” Her gaze drifted toward the front of the bar. “That was Giselle’s...” she paused, let the word hang unspoken between them. “Wasn’t it?”

Taryn nodded. No need to announce exactly what he was to Giselle to anyone who might be listening.

Dani’s eyes widened. “I thought so. How did he find you? Us?”

“I don’t know, and that worries me. I removed her chip and the sensor didn’t pick up anything else.” Taryn bit her lip. “What did he say to you?”

“He described Giselle. Said his girlfriend had gone missing and he was worried about her.” She excused herself to fill the order that a waitress brought to the bar. “There was something about him that seemed... off. Plus, I’ll never answer a question about a missing girl.”

“I never doubted you. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help you.”

“Thank you for trusting me to handle it.” She laughed. “I expected you to come running at any moment.”

Taryn winced. “I wanted to. But I was afraid he’d recognize me and jeopardize all of this. I didn’t intend to put everyone in danger.”

“You didn’t. You had no way of knowing he’d show up here. This place, the hope it provides, is more important. More important than me and,” Dani smiled tentatively, “more important than you. Not that I want anything to happen to you.”

Dani squeezed Taryn’s hand. Her touch was comforting, but her words helped the most.

“Backatcha.” She sucked in a breath, steadying herself. Dani was safe. The bar was safe. “Now I want you to take a break.”

“I don’t need a break,” Dani protested. “I’m fine. I promise.”

“It’s not for you. It’s for me. I want you to go write down everything you remember from your interaction with him. I need to figure out how he ended up here.”

“Could be a coincidence.” Dani’s expression said she didn’t believe it.

“Could be.” Taryn didn’t believe it either. “He shouldn’t have been anywhere near this neighborhood.”