Page 42 of Midnight’s Captive (Stroke of Midnight #2)

Taryn closed the heavy door to the hacking room then sagged against it.

She’d accompanied Ash downstairs. They’d stopped for linens and a blanket, since the sheets on the cot down there probably hadn’t been changed since before she took over. She’d waited around a few minutes, until it became clear that they weren’t going to discuss anything that had just happened.

Being that close to Ash and yet feeling the distance between them had messed with her head—and her heart.

She’d used work as an excuse and left him down there. Even when she’d hesitated at the doorway, he hadn’t turned around. Hadn’t called her name.

Being close to Ash wasn’t the only challenge she faced tonight.

She had a mole.

Someone in her bar— in her home! —was selling secrets to outsiders.

Though she couldn’t bear the thought, Taryn had to take care of that problem before she could rescue Hope.

Strengthening her resolve, Taryn pushed off the door. The fact that Giselle’s pimp had shown up at the bar—twice—had pissed her off. But once Giselle’s second scan had come back clean, Taryn hadn’t really considered her people as the source.

As she stalked down the hallway to the bar, Taryn considered her options. The old Jack had left a stash of less-than-legal instruments in one of the back rooms, but the thought of using them turned her stomach. She preferred less intrusive—less painful—methods.

Taryn knew her staff, many of them for years. That was why the betrayal broke her heart. One of her people—practically her family—had betrayed her.

And she thought she knew who.

When Taryn strode into the bar, Dani flashed her a huge smile. “Everything worked out between you two?”

Taryn’s laugh wasn’t a happy sound. “Not even remotely.”

Dani’s smile faded. “That sucks. I’m sorry. Anything I can do?”

Taryn shrugged. “Not about that.” Maybe she and Ash would be able to work it out eventually, but there was a lot to do between then and now. “Would you give me five minutes then send Rhonda back to my office?”

Dani’s frown deepened. “Sure. Everything okay?”

Taryn shook her head. She wanted to confide in Dani. Though her friend had noticed the problem first, it was Taryn’s mess to clean up.

“Shit. Anything I can help with?”

“Maybe,” Taryn said. “I’ll let you know.”

Taryn had just settled into her chair when there was a rap on her door. She took a long breath, then exhaled. She wasn’t looking forward to this conversation.

“Come in.” Her voice was heavy.

The door opened and Rhonda poked her head in. “You wanted to see me?”

“Take a seat.” Taryn nodded toward the chair, just as she had a hundred times before.

While the other woman slid into the chair across the desk, Taryn took the opportunity to study her.

Rhonda’s hair was limp. She wore long sleeves, something she rarely did, and moved slowly. All things Taryn should have noticed sooner. Dammit. She should’ve paid more attention after Dani brought up her concerns.

“When did you start using?” Taryn asked, skipping the pleasantries.

Rhonda paled and her shoulders drooped. She opened her mouth, then snapped it closed again.

“Think very carefully about how you want to answer that.”

Rhonda straightened and crossed her arms over her chest defiantly. “Three months ago.”

“What are you taking?”

“Vyne.” Rhonda’s tone dared her to make something out of it.

Taryn blanched. That shit was terribly addictive. It explained the long sleeves—continued use caused the veins to harden and turn green. That was what gave the drug its street name.

“Why, Rhonda? That stuff is scary bad for you.” Despite her overall unhealthy appearance, Taryn still saw traces of the girl she’d rescued nine months ago. “You were doing so well.”

She stared at Taryn. “Nightmares.” Rhonda snapped out the word then her lips pinched closed again.

“Why didn’t you come to me?”

She laughed. The sad sound made Taryn want to cry.

“How could you understand?” Rhonda asked in a shrill voice. “You’ve got this perfect life! No one threatens you. No one forces you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“Rhonda.” Taryn spoke softly and waited until she had Rhonda’s full attention. “I’ve been in your shoes.”

She gave Taryn a sour look. “Bullshit.”

“I have. I started on the street. I told you that when you came here. All this,” Taryn waved a hand in the air to indicate the bar, “was just a fluke.”

Didn’t she remember? Taryn told all the girls about her past when she brought them to Razor Jack’s, so they’d know she understood the struggle they faced. Maybe not every detail, but enough that they’d know. That they’d believe.

“Is that why you bring us here? To rub our faces in it?”

Taryn fought the urge to bury her face in her hands. Where was Rhonda getting this stuff? Had she always been this angry, this self-destructive?

“I bring you here to help you get a fresh start.” That was all she wanted for all the girls.

Rhonda was beginning to look like a mistake. But everything about her—her age, the length of time she’d been on the streets—had made her a prime candidate for Taryn’s help.

Why had Dani and others succeeded where she didn’t?

“Well, your fresh start sucks!”

The words hit Taryn like blows, but she powered through. “Where’d you get the Vyne, Rhonda?”

“From a guy.”

This was like pulling teeth. “What guy?”

Rhonda shrugged.

Now that Taryn was paying attention, she saw how thin Rhonda had gotten. Her clothes hung on her frame.

Had she missed this because she was busy with Ash? Had getting involved with him been a mistake?

“A guy I met outside.”

Hopefully that was the truth. The Jack had a strict rule about dealing in the bar. Taryn would come back to that. She needed more information before deciding Rhonda’s fate. “Where did you get the money?”

Rhonda pouted. It might have been cute if she were a small child. Instead, she was just a woman who’d been dealt a bad hand and had made bad decisions on top of that.

“The money?” Taryn repeated her question when Rhonda didn’t answer.

“Tips.” She spat the word.

Taryn pondered her answer for a minute. It was true, the women who worked at Razor Jack’s made good tips. Plus, Taryn paid them well. She didn’t want returning to the streets to be an option.

Rhonda wasn’t a bad waitress. She probably did okay. Dani likely did the best.

“How much are you spending?”

Rhonda spit out a number, then looked away.

Taryn assumed she was lying and immediately doubled that number. After three months, she had to be spending more than that. So where was the money coming from?

“How much did Giselle’s pimp pay you?”

She hadn’t been completely sure until Rhonda paled.

“I didn’t... I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Realizing she was digging a deeper hole, she clamped her mouth shut.

Dammit. Taryn had hoped she was wrong. “Cut the shit, Rhonda. Someone here gave him the information. You’re the one with the expensive habit.”

“What about your new boyfriend?” Rhonda sneered.

Taryn gave her props for trying to deflect suspicion. Even after their latest confrontation, Taryn had never worried that he’d sell her out. He was more likely to wound her heart.

Of course, Rhonda was doing a pretty fucking good job of that herself.

“That’s not going to work.” Taryn studied Rhonda. The other woman held her gaze for a few seconds, then dropped her eyes.

Taryn had won, although it was an empty victory. No one had ever rejected the fresh start before. Later, she’d analyze—probably overanalyze—what had gone wrong. For now, she needed all the information she could get.

“How much did he pay you?” she asked again.

The number Rhonda gave her seemed unbelievably low. Her habit must be worse than Taryn realized, if Rhonda couldn’t judge the value of the information she sold.

“And the rescue plans?” A shot in the dark.

Rhonda mumbled another number.

Another ridiculously low number.

With a sinking stomach, Taryn asked, “Dizzie’s location?”

Rhonda ducked her head.

Taryn’s heart sank. All this time she’d thought it was a fluke. That a newsie or a patron had seen the fugitive courier and reported it to the Tremaine Corporation.

“How much?” she demanded. What Rhonda was doing—had done—risked everything Taryn had built.

This time the number was higher. Had Rhonda negotiated a better deal because she wasn’t as addicted a month ago? Taryn would never know.

“Why?” How had she failed to help Rhonda?

Rhonda shrugged.

Taryn knew she wouldn’t get anything more from her. “Oh, Rhonda. What am I going to do with you? I can’t let you stay here.” Saying those words nearly broke Taryn.

That statement made an impact on the other woman. She sucked in a sharp breath and her eyes widened. Rhonda’s voice was barely audible when she asked, “What are you going to do with me?”

“I don’t know.” The absolute truth. This had never happened before. No one had ever refused the rescue, and no one had betrayed her like this. When women decided that working at the bar wasn’t for them, Taryn helped them find their calling and wished them well.

What was she supposed to do now? Kick Rhonda back onto the street? Her stomach churned at the wrongness of that thought.

Taryn couldn’t let her go. Rhonda knew too much now and had shown a willingness to sell whatever secrets she could. But she couldn’t stay here, either. Taryn could never trust her again. Damned if she did, damned if she didn’t. The old Jack had an easy solve—he’d make the problem go away permanently.

“You can’t stay here,” Taryn said gently. More gently than the other woman deserved.

“Why?” Tears welled in her eyes.

Real or fake? Taryn felt for her, she did. But her betrayal was too big and cut too deep.

“If you’d come to me when you started using, I could have helped you. If you’d come to me when you needed money, I would’ve helped you then, too.” Taryn looked at her. “But you didn’t. You dug yourself into a pit that I can’t get you out of. People got hurt, kept getting hurt, because of you.”

“Just some courier,” Rhonda said with a smirk. “That wasn’t even my fault. It was the crazy Tremaine lady’s.”

Strictly speaking, Rhonda wasn’t wrong. Portia had run Dizzie over, but only after Tremaine Security had chased her from the bar.

That was beside the point. “Dizzie went on the run because you provided her location to the Tremaine Corporation.”

“If it wasn’t me, it would have been someone in the bar who saw them. Why shouldn’t I get the money?”

“That’s why you can’t stay. You’ve put everyone here at risk. That’s not okay.” Had Rhonda always been this self-involved? Or was it the drugs? Probably a combination, Taryn realized with a pang of sorrow.

She could save people from the streets, but she couldn’t save them from themselves.

Rhonda’s lost look was quickly replaced by a glare that would’ve killed Taryn had it been physical. “Fine, I don’t need you, bitch. I can make all the money I need from the secrets you’ve got here.”

Taryn pressed her lips together. Well, this had taken a turn for the worse. She hadn’t expected Rhonda to be a nasty addict.

Of course, she hadn’t expected her to be an addict at all.

Taryn picked up her phone. “Daryl, could you come in here, please?”

Fear flickered in Rhonda’s eyes until bravado replaced it. “You’re bluffing.”

Did Rhonda really think Taryn was playing games? She hadn’t maintained her position as the Jack by being nice. “No, I’m not.”

The door opened and Daryl filled the doorway. “Yes, ma’am?”

On the other side of the desk, Rhonda stiffened. This time, the fear in her eyes was permanent.

“Take Rhonda to the basement, please.” Taryn’s voice was cool, betraying none of the anger and regret that coursed through her.

To his credit, Daryl didn’t flinch.

Rhonda did. “The b-b-basement?”

Taryn didn’t owe her an explanation, so she just nodded.

Had everyone forgotten that the Jacks before Taryn had been utterly ruthless bastards?

Taryn gestured for Rhonda to stand. She did reluctantly.

“Take her to the cells,” she repeated.

“Let’s go.” Daryl gripped Rhonda’s shoulder and steered her through the door.

The door closed behind them. Taryn dropped her head into her hands. She hadn’t solved that problem, only delayed it.

How was she going to deal with this mess on top of her other problems?

Hope’s rescue was delayed until they located her. Ash was doing whatever it was hackers did. And she couldn’t deal with the pimp until she saw him again.

How had things gotten so off track? She wanted to weep but couldn’t spare the time.