Page 51 of Midnight’s Captive (Stroke of Midnight #2)

“Put me to work, Dani.” Taryn entered the bar area, needing a distraction. Otherwise, she’d worry about what was happening downstairs.

Leaving Ash alone in the hacker room had been hard. Harder even than cutting his neck open. It was good he hadn’t been able to see her while she worked. Her hands had been shaking the entire time and she’d worried constantly about cutting too deep. What if she’d hit a nerve and done permanent damage?

Now he was preparing to shove a metal spike into a socket in his neck that hadn’t been used in years. What if the technology had changed? What if she’d screwed up?

Dani stopped unloading glasses and studied her. “You okay?”

“Fine. I promise. I just really need a distraction right now.”

“Well, I’m not going to turn down free help,” she said, winking at Taryn, “so why don’t you finish unloading this. Then, there’s a bunch of liquor and wine that needs to be restocked. It was a busy weekend.”

Taryn grinned and felt a little bit lighter. Watching Dani take charge, watching her bloom, always made her happy. Unofficially, the other woman managed the bar and was the Jack’s second-in-command. Maybe it was time to make that official. What would she even call her—the Jill?

She laughed out loud.

“If putting glasses on the shelves makes you that happy, maybe you should do it every day.”

“Maybe I will,” Taryn sassed back.

She missed this. The banter, the time with her friend. “We need to do this more often.”

“Prep the bar?” Dani asked.

“No, hang out. I’ve forgotten how much fun we have.”

“Me, too.” Dani smiled. “I know it’s hard when we’re busy?—”

“But that shouldn’t be an excuse. Don’t get me wrong. I love the bar. Love being a business owner, but I don’t want to spend my whole life working. There’s got to be more to it than that.”

“Count me in,” Dani said.

She could do this, Taryn thought. No, she would do this. She could have a life. All work and no play made for a very sad Jack. Hadn’t she taken over with the intent of changing how business was done here? Maybe she wouldn’t have Ash in her life, but she could have a fulfilling life if she wanted to.

Taryn had just opened the first box of booze when her phone dinged, notifying her she had a message. She pulled it out of her pocket.

SOS

Shit. That was Ash’s number—she’d made sure he could reach her before she’d left him. Something must have gone wrong.

“Dani, I’m so sorry. I’ve got to go check on Ash.”

“Is he okay?”

“I don’t know. He just sent an SOS.”

“Go.” Dani shooed her away. “I can finish this up.”

“Thank you!”

Taryn felt bad abandoning her friend when she’d begged for a distraction, but what if she’d screwed up and Ash was hurt? She raced down the hall, for once not worrying about security for the hidden room. Even if one of the women saw, they still couldn’t access it without the code.

She pounded down the steps. The hacking room was eerily quiet when Taryn stepped through the door.

“Ash?”

“Here.” His reply was muffled.

Taryn entered the chair room, nervous about what she would find.

The lights were low. A big screen had dropped down over one wall.

Huh. She hadn’t even known that was there.

Ash sat in the chair where she’d left him, still hooked into the chair.

The thought made her queasy. It would be hypocritical to rage against human–machine interfaces when she had one as well. But if she had to screw her arm on every day, that would make her sick too.

And that was just her arm. This was his brain!

The images—squiggle? symbols?—that were projected onto the screen meant nothing to Taryn. They weren’t even really images, just impressions. Is that what Ash saw? It didn’t look like speed or stars to her.

He cursed.

“Everything okay?”

“Fuck, just a little bit more.” His voice was tense, like he was in pain.

That made absolutely no sense. Was this his battle with Caspar? She’d expected something more... battle-y.

Could she talk to him when he was like this? “Can you hear me?”

“Yes,” he ground out. “But I can’t focus on this and you at the same time.”

“Why send me a panicked text if you don’t need me?” Taryn snapped. She hated not knowing what was happening. As she spoke, she watched him work.

His head was practically immobile. She assumed the pin that inserted into his neck caused that. His fingers twitched on the arms of the chair.

If she didn’t know that he’d voluntarily put himself in the chair, she’d think he was being tortured.

“Are you having a seizure?” Had she screwed up when she’d opened the port? He’d said he was in the middle of the fight. If he passed out in the middle of it, the fight was over.

“No,” he ground out. “I’m used to keyboards. It’s been five fucking years since I’ve had this much brain interface. I’m out of practice. And I’m losing.”

Oh shit.

He had to beat Caspar. It was the only way he and Hope could truly escape and live free. If anything happened to him...

Her heart twisted at the thought.

It would be hard enough living without him when he left town. Living without him because he was dead or brain burned? That wasn’t a world she wanted to live in.

Taryn circled the chair and studied the cables and plugs.

She didn’t know when it had been purchased, but she knew it had been top of the line when it was new. Like the Jack before her, the hacker Jack had enjoyed the best things in life. He would have purchased the best chair he could, which would probably mean the most advanced at the time.

“What the hell are you doing back there? Why are you circling me like a shark?”

“I’m looking for something.”

“Look for it where I can’t see you. I can sense you moving and it’s distracting as hell.”

Distracting him was bad, but Taryn was irrationally glad that her presence disturbed him. He disturbed the hell out of her. “I’ll do my best,” she said.

Taryn crouched down and took a closer look at the base of the chair. “Gotcha.”

The panel was dusty and the printing was tiny, but she found the symbol she was looking for—the one that indicated peripherals could be attached. Ash had told her that he was used to a keyboard these days. So, she’d get him a keyboard.

She bounced to her feet and faced Ash. “I think I can help. I’ll be right back.” She raced out of the room without waiting for his reply. She knew what she needed and where to get it.

How long would it take Ash to do whatever it was he was doing? Hacking sounded like magic to her. How else could you insert yourself into a computer?

Shaking off those thoughts, Taryn sprinted down the corridor to her office. She grabbed the keyboard off her desk, hoping that it would be able to pair with the chair. Taryn tucked it under her arm and yanked her office door open.

Dani waited the other side, about to knock. “We have a problem.”

“Can you handle it?” Taryn begged.

“It’s better if you do. Giselle’s pimp is in the bar.”

“Not again!” Why now? Taryn had no time for his shit. “Who’s minding the bar?”

“Neecy arrived right after you left. She was hanging out when he walked in, so I asked her to watch the bar while I got you. She’s got the guys with her.” Dani glared at her. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“I was taking care of Ash.”

Dani looked at the keyboard in Taryn’s hand then back at her, a million questions in her gaze. “Well, I hope you’ve solved that problem, because we’ve got a bigger one out there.”

Fuckfuckfuck.

Taryn focused on the bigger problem. “I need to drop this off, then I’ll be back. Ten minutes, tops.”

“What is wrong with you? The bar is getting full and a man you told not to come back has come back. The fucking office supplies can wait!”

“You don’t understand, Dani. This is more important than it looks. I’ve got to get back to Ash.”

“You say you care about these girls, but you’re putting a keyboard ahead of rescuing one? Screw you, Taryn. Go play secretary or whatever the fuck you’re doing. I’ll figure it out.”

Whoa. Dani rarely lost her temper.

She grabbed Dani’s arm. “I’m sorry. All the shit is hitting the fan at once.”

“There’s a big old pile of it out front. If you want to keep Giselle and the bar, you better get out there.” Dani turned and walked away.

“Hold on, Ash,” Taryn whispered under her breath. “I’ll take care of Hope if it goes wrong for you.”

Keyboard in her left hand, she followed Dani down the hallway.

A week without some kind of crisis. Was that too much to ask?