His sigh carried a wealth of frustration. “I know. But he knows I’m around and I don’t think he’ll stop coming for me.”
“What about when you leave town?” Getting the words out was painful.
His gray eyes met hers. “It doesn’t matter where I am physically when it comes to the network. He’ll always be looking for me, always watching. I don’t want to be always looking over my shoulder on a hack.” Caspar was one of many loose ends he needed to tie up.
She sighed. “I understand. Are you sure you need your port opened? Can’t you do this without being jacked right into the network?”
“I need every advantage I can get.” He kept his tone steady, not wanting to share his concerns. What if he’d forgotten how?
“Okay. Let’s get this over with.” She didn’t sound happy, but he was glad that she didn’t argue. He was afraid it might not be that hard to talk him out of it.
She led him to the small room she used as a clinic. It had a cot, a small cabinet that stored her first-aid supplies, and a tiny table and chairs. “Are you sure? I’ve cut trackers out of the girls, but I’ve never had any formal training.”
He swallowed hard, but didn’t change his mind.
“Take off your shirt and lie down while I get my tools ready.”
“I wish you weren’t telling me that with a scalpel in your hand.” She chuckled, but he was serious. This would be a lot more fun if he wasn’t about to head into battle.
Ash pulled his shirt over his head and wadded it into a ball. Then he settled on the cot, using his shirt as a makeshift pillow. Resting his head on his arm, he turned so he could watch her.
Taryn grabbed her equipment with efficient movements, then turned to place them on the table. Her breath caught when she met Ash’s gaze.
His lips curved into a smile. “If you wanted to see me shirtless sooner, all you had to do was ask.”
“Ha ha.” She stepped close and studied him.
Ash knew what she saw, but didn’t know how she felt about it. He wasn’t bulky and muscular like her bouncers. His body had always run to wiry. Black ink tattoos marked the skin along his torso and on his biceps.
Her eyes flickered to his back, to his favorite tattoo. The wings of a bird stretched from between his shoulder blades and curved lovingly over his shoulders. The bird’s tail feathers trailed in delicate swirls to the small of his back. Shapes reminiscent of flames surrounded the figure.
“Your back is spectacular. A firebird?”
“A phoenix.”
“That’s right, for your hacker name. May I?” she whispered.
“Yes.” His response was low, guttural. The thought of her hands on his skin... was nothing compared to the real thing.
Her fingers trailed over the shape—slowly, gently—burning him like the flames in the design. “Oh! It feels like metal. I’ve never felt anything like it.”
“An alloy,” he corrected. “Tiny filaments laid into my skin. When I’m connected to the network, they light up.”
Taryn traced her fingers over the tattoo again, then lay her hand on his shoulder. He shivered under her touch. “That’s right, you told me. I’d like to see that someday.”
He eased out his breath. “If this works the way it should, I’ll let you.”
“Well, let’s do this right. The port’s in the back of your neck, right?”
“Yeah.” He shifted, lacing his fingers together and resting his head on them, exposing his neck.
She ran her fingers over the small scar. “Right here?”
“That’s it.” His voice was muffled. He tried to keep his breathing as shallow as he could and to move as little as possible.
A cool cloth with an antiseptic smell passed over the skin of his neck and upper back several times. “That was to clean the area and this should numb it.” Her touch was gentle as she smoothed a topical cream over the skin that covered the port and the surrounding area. “Do you feel the tingling?”
“Yes.” The tingling sensation was muted by the electricity of her touch.
