Page 38 of Midnight’s Captive (Stroke of Midnight #2)

The guard shoved Ash into Portia’s office. He stumbled but managed to stay upright. She prodded his shoulder—hard—until he took one step, then another. The guard pushed him again, but this time Ash stood his ground. Ash expected them to shove him to his knees, the proper posture for a supplicant.

Fuck that.

If Portia Tremaine was going to take him out, she could fucking look him in the eye while she did it.

He stood up straight and did his best to radiate calm, but inside he was freaking out. Being dragged into her office by guards didn’t tend to be a positive turn of events.

Portia stared at him, her expression serious. “Where is she?”

Of all the questions he’d expected...

“Who?”

Nostrils flaring, Portia pushed her chair back and stood. She circled the desk and closed the space between them slowly. Her heels clicked loudly, ominously on the tile floor.

“Where is she?” Her voice was cold. Quiet.

Whatever was going on, Portia was well and truly pissed. This was the Ice Queen, a woman he didn’t want to cross. But he was telling the truth—he had no idea what she was talking about. “Who?” he asked again.

Her lips curled in a sneer. “Your sister.”

His heart stopped and Ash swayed. “What?”

That was all he managed. Focusing on whatever Portia said next was impossible. He couldn’t hear anything over the pounding of his heart. “My sister is missing?” he forced out.

Hope was free? Really?

“How did you do it?”

As reality set in, he realized that part of him had never expected Taryn to pull it off. And after their last fight, he hadn’t been sure that she would.

He’d asked her to go up against the Tremaine Corporation and she’d done it. She’d fucking done it!

“I don’t know. I didn’t do it.”

He owed Taryn an apology. No, not just an apology. He owed her everything.

Was that why Taryn had reached out? He’d gotten the message yesterday but had still felt too off-balance from their fight to return to the bar.

Ash grabbed the back of a chair, then lowered into it. Portia’s glare had no effect. Hope was free .

“I think you’re lying, Mr. Cutter.” Portia crossed her arms over her chest and stared down at him, her head angled as she studied him. “Yet I also believe your reaction is genuine. That’s a problem.”

“And you don’t like problems.” He had plenty of experience with her dislike of problems.

Her smile belonged on a piranha.

“I didn’t do it,” he repeated. “I don’t know where she is.”

Taryn hadn’t shared any details of her plan. Ash had never anticipated that the secrecy would bother him—she’d never even told him where she would be hiding Hope until they left the city.

The left side of his chest throbbed and he rubbed his hand over it. How was it possible to feel such joy and such loss at the same time?

Ash should be bouncing up and down with glee. They were so close to freedom. His heart broke because Taryn wouldn’t be joining him on the next leg of their journey, wherever that was.

He stared at Portia and she stared back. Her blue eyes gave nothing away. Finally, she dismissed the guards and circled back to her desk.

Déjà vu washed over him. The last time he’d sat in this position, his life had been turned upside down. Now it was happening again.

“What am I supposed to do with you now?” There was nothing vindictive in her voice. Only curiosity and maybe... disappointment?

He shrugged. “Whatever you want, I guess.” Suddenly, it didn’t matter what Portia had planned for him. Hope was free. Taryn could get her the help she needed, as long as he could get her the funds to support Hope.

Ash had always imagined that when his time at the Tremaine Corporation was up, he’d go out fighting. He hadn’t expected this... acceptance.

That felt like giving up and Ash had sworn that he would never stop fighting. A tiny flame flickered to life inside him.

“I still haven’t uncovered how Leopold got the information to make his move.”

It was a long shot, trying to bargain with the task she’d assigned him. It was all he had left, though. Everything—everyone—important to him was safe outside this building.

“Twenty-four hours.”

Relief rushed through him, but it was immediately countered by a touch of panic driven by the extremely short time frame.

“A week.” It was a weak counter.

“Aren’t you supposed to be the best?” She sniffed but he thought he detected a touch of amusement. “Thirty-six hours.”

Better. Still not great.

Could he pull together a believable set of files for Portia and plot his own escape in a day and a half?

“Seventy-two.”

“Forty-eight hours. Not a minute more.” Her fingers flew over her keyboard and a clock appeared on the wall to his right. Forty-seven hours, fifty-nine minutes, and a few seconds.

An amusing trick, if it wasn’t the time he had to get his affairs in order.

He wasted precious time watching the clock. Whether he got free or he got dead, his time at the Tremaine Corporation was truly limited.

“You’ve got a deal.”

Ash stood, hopeful his legs would support him. “I’ll just get started.”

“Where do you think you’re going?” Her tone was biting.

“Back to my shift.” Security had dragged him out and the rest of the team would no doubt have questions. Ones he couldn’t answer. But that was easier than trying to focus around Portia.

“You have less than forty-eight hours. That seems like a waste of precious time.”

He hated that she was right, but he needed the time to pull himself together. Needed the time to decide which false trail to provide. He’d initially intended to frame one of his colleagues. It was still the smart play, but he felt like an asshole.

“I know,” he said. “But it’s my forty-eight hours, right?”

Portia shrugged.

“I’ll be back after my shift,” he told her as he stood.

“As you said, it’s your choice.”

Ash hid a smile. He’d actually miss working with Portia. The woman was whip-smart with a sense of humor he didn’t think many people saw.

“I understand why you wanted to free your sister,” she said as he approached the door. “Wherever you have her, I hope she’s receiving the same quality medical care we provided.”

His stomach cramped. Portia had pinpointed one of his major worries—that moving Hope would negatively affect her health. At the Tremaine medical center, she’d always appeared well cared for, but her condition had never changed. She’d just gotten thinner and remained unresponsive.

Ash’s jaw clenched. He’d uncovered records on a possible cure for brain burn, but Phillip Tremaine had never approved its implementation. Ash had copied those documents and secreted them away for the day when Hope was free and they could attempt it.

“I didn’t do it,” he repeated. Taryn had kept the details from him for just this reason. He couldn’t tell what he didn’t know.

“I don’t care,” Portia said. “You’ve made a powerful enemy, Mr. Cutter. It didn’t have to be that way.”

He nodded. Without another word, he turned and walked away.

There was nothing he could say that would sway her to his side. He ignored the twinge of pain that thought brought. He’d grown to like and respect one of the most feared women in the city.

He’d fallen in love with the other one.

Ash itched to call Taryn and ask about Hope. How she was doing. Whether she needed anything.

Where she was.

He believed Portia when she said she wanted the best care for Hope. And maybe she was right, that Hope would be better at the Tremaine medical center.

But it was too late for second thoughts.

For the first time in years, he’d be responsible for Hope’s health and safety again. He’d failed her the first time. Would he do so again?

His stomach churned with anxiety. Could he do this?

He’d been so focused on rescuing Hope and making sure he’d be prepared for her medical needs, he hadn’t fully appreciated what moving her would mean. He alone would be responsible for her care. It had been one thing when she’d been an active teenager. But now, with her medical issues...

Ash swallowed hard and pushed the nerves away. Time to step up and play big brother again.