Midnight Fire Read Online Free Page A

couldn’t breathe.
    He knew her?
    This was personal then. Not some random stranger who’d broken into her home.
    “Don’t be afraid,” he said and stepped forward.
    Something about that voice...
    Another step and the light from the kitchen illuminated his face.
    Summer gasped.
    Jack.
    Summer stared, rooted to the spot, heart hammering
    Jack. And yet...not Jack. The man standing in front of her had nothing in common with the golden boy she’d known. The man-boy who’d bedded her and then disappeared, a creature too fine to settle to earth.
    This man was bigger, bulkier. The Jack she’d known had had a refined, swimmer’s physique. Muscular and lean. This Jack was huge, defined muscles that had been hidden by the homeless man’s baggy uniform now clear under his black sweater. He didn’t have straggling filthy dreadlocks. His head was crudely shorn, like a prisoner’s, uneven and brutal-looking. His long, dirty-blond biker’s beard was gone, too, leaving a bare chiseled chin with the jaw muscles working.
    He was staring at her, narrow-eyed.
    Summer was really glad he didn’t look anything like the Jack she knew, that he looked so dangerous. If he’d been an older version of the friendly, charming boy, she’d have rushed to embrace him, hugging him tightly, happy he wasn’t dead.
    The Jack she knew would have hugged her back, maybe made a crack, pulling away from the hug because you didn’t cling to Jack Delvaux. But he’d have been friendly and utterly harmless. The old Jack wouldn’t have hurt a fly.
    But
this
Jack?
    She didn’t know about this one. He could swat her away with one swipe of that huge, powerful hand. This Jack had been on the run, staying under the radar, for six months—which in this age of surveillance she’d have said was impossible. She had no idea why he’d stayed hidden, letting everyone think he was dead, but he had to have powerful reasons. So. Now she’d discovered his secret. How was he going to react?
    “Hello, Jack,” she said. “I thought I saw you at Blake’s funeral.” Summer kept her voice steady. Inside she was trembling, but long years of experience as a political journalist, showing absolutely nothing, served her well.
    He frightened her, instinctively, but he couldn’t be allowed to know that.
    “Hello, Summer,” he said, stepping toward her.
    Summer forced herself not to step back. That would show she was intimidated. She was, but damned if she’d show it. He was very close to her, so close she had to tilt her head back slightly to keep her eyes on his face. He’d somehow grown in the past fifteen years. She didn’t remember him being this tall.
    Pointless pretending she didn’t know why he was here.
    “So I guess the reports of your death were exaggerated?” she said, trying to keep her voice light.
    His huge fists closed, then opened. Summer’s mouth went completely dry. Was he going to attack her? No. Besides the closing of his fists, he remained completely and utterly still.
    “Yeah. So now you know.” He stared at her unblinkingly.
    She swallowed and nodded.
    “So, I guess the question is—what are you going to do about it?” Jack’s voice was low and deep and emotionless. But he was watching her keenly, gaze as intent as a blue-eyed hawk’s.
    Summer tried to keep it light. “I’m not too sure anyone would believe me if I wrote about it. I imagine the security cameras never caught you? I’m sure you’re in a lot of facial recognition databases, even if you are certified dead.”
    “No. Never been caught.”
    Washington DC had thousands of security cams. If he’d been here all this time, he’d been extremely clever in avoiding identification.
    “Just like my security system didn’t stop you.” Somehow evading the two security guards and the security cams around the perimeter of her complex plus cameras on every floor seemed even more difficult than evading security around the city.
    “Your security system is crap,” he said