Hold On To Me

by Elisabeth Naughton

  A light shone in the upstairs window. He had no idea if or when Ford slept, but he was thankful it looked like the guy was awake.

  He punched in the security code. The lock clicked, and he opened the door. The stairs to his left led up to the second floor and creaked under his boots as he moved. Just as he was about to lift his hand to knock, the door pulled open.

  Ford, dressed in jeans, a flannel shirt, and boots, stepped back to let him in. “Good morning. Or almost.”

  “Hey.” The main room of the security center was lined with monitors and keyboards, a high-tech surveillance system that looked like something out of a spy movie.

  Ford closed the door and moved toward a counter on the far side of the room. “You want coffee?”

  “No. Thanks.” Mitch was already wired enough. He scanned the screens. Every inch of the property was visible from different angles, even rooms inside the main house—the kitchen, the great room, the safe room. “You monitor all this from up here? Every room?”

  “Not every room.” Ford passed a spoon through his coffee and took a sip of the steaming brew. “Kendrick didn’t want cameras inside the bedrooms.”

  “Smart guy,” Mitch muttered. “I’d have to hurt him if he did.”

  Ford chuckled and moved to a leather swivel chair near a bank of monitors. “Every guest would hurt him if he did. There are cameras outside each bedroom suite, though, monitoring the decks and access to the house.” He hit a button, and the empty, snowy deck outside Mitch’s room popped up on screen.

  Mitch scratched the back of his head. “Thorough. I guess that’s a good thing.” He looked toward the screen showing the upstairs hallway. “That’s how you knew I was up.”

  “No. You punched in the wrong code when you left. That’s how I knew you were up.”

  Mitch cringed. “Sorry if I woke you.”

  “You didn’t. I don’t sleep much. And don’t worry. I check for that whenever an alarm goes off in here. No need to send everyone running for the safe room when it’s nothing.” Ford lowered his mug to the counter next to him. “So what can I do for you at four fifteen a.m.?”

  Mitch crossed his arms over his chest. “I was wondering if you heard anything about that accident up on Highway 267.”

  Kendrick reached for a paper next to his keyboard. “Yeah. It was your car. Plates matched.”

  Shit.

  “They didn’t find anyone inside, though.”

  “No one?”

  Ford shook his head and handed Mitch the paper. “They’re going to need more time to examine the wreckage, but my guy doesn’t think this was some random accident. They found a timing device on the asphalt near the site.”

  Double shit. Mitch scanned the paper. It didn’t provide any more information, just confirmed everything Ford had already told him.

  “Yeah, I thought that was weird too,” Ford said suspiciously.

  Mitch swallowed the growing lump in his throat, not wanting to give anything away. “What about the guy who stumbled onto the property the other day?”

  “What about him?”

  “Did he look like a normal crazed Kendrick fan?”

  “None of Kendrick’s fans look normal to me, crazed or not.” Ford rocked back in his chair. “You seem a little nervous. Is there something going on you want to tell me about?”

  No. There wasn’t. Not now. Not when in a few hours he’d be out of here anyway. Mitch handed the paper back. “Sorry. Two weird incidents close together just aren’t things I normally deal with.”

  Ford huffed and set the paper back on the counter. “Lucky you. I get to deal with them all the damn time.”

  Mitch turned for the door, his fingers itching now to make that call. “I’m gonna take a walk. When I come back—”

  “Don’t worry,” Ford said, pushing out of his chair, “I’ll make sure I watch for you and shut off any alarms you trip.”

  “Thanks.”

  Outside, Mitch took a deep breath that did shit to calm his nerves. He’d gone over it in his head numerous times while he’d been lying next to Simone, and he’d hoped Ford would have different news, but now that he knew where he stood, there was only one thing left for him to do.

  The water at the edge of the lake was frozen. It was still dark, but the clouds had parted enough to let a spray of moonlight lead the way. He headed across the rocky beach and didn’t stop until he came to a dark section of land at least two miles away, housing nothing but trees, brush and a FOR SALE sign.

  Pulling out his cell phone, he steadied his nerves, dialed, and waited. A click sounded, followed by a familiar voice.

  “Mathews?” Chris Murdoch, his boss at PreCorp, answered on the second ring. “Is that you? You are in so much fucking trouble.”

  Mitch pinched the bridge of his nose. A voice in the back of his head urged him to hang up. Chris’s phone could be bugged. Someone could be listening. They could be trying to track the call right now. But another voice screamed this was the only chance Simone had left. And after what had happened with that car…they already knew he was in the area. “Yeah. It’s me. Listen, I need some help.”

  “You’re damn right you do. They’re looking all over for you. I’ve tried to head them off on my end, but it’s not going to take them long to figure out who your friends are.”

  Chris was talking about Ryan. And Tate. And anyone else who’d helped Mitch along the way. “Chris, you gotta tell me what they want.”

  “Aside from your head on a platter? Shit, you know the way things work, Mitch. The brotherhood comes first. Before friends, before family, before your job. You didn’t just bend that rule, you damn near broke it off. And not just for any girl. For one who could cause serious problems for the entire organization.”

  Mitch’s protective instinct bubbled up, but he worked to keep his voice even and calm. Losing his cool with Chris would only make things worse. Chris was a lot like him in a many ways. He kept to himself for the most part. But because of his management position within PreCorp, a major player in the oil-and-gas field, he was in closer contact with the founders of the organization. And that meant he played by the rules. At least way more than Mitch did.

  “Simone doesn’t know anything.”

  “She was Graham’s wife.”

  “He didn’t tell her anything. He kept most of the trial secret from her. She didn’t even know he was a Cypher until recently.”

  Chris heaved out a sound that was half laugh, half disbelief. “Do you honestly think she’d tell you what she knows? She’s got no reason to trust you. In fact, she has every reason not to trust you.”

  “No, she doesn’t. Because she doesn’t know I’m part of this.”

  Chris was silent for a second, then said, “Are you sure of that?”

  Absolutely. Simone never would have come to his room last night if she’d known he was a Cypher. Never would have stayed. Definitely wouldn’t be sound asleep in his bed now if she did. And that meant he still had a chance. If, that was, Chris helped him.

  Nerves ignited like fireworks in his stomach. “Look, I’m gonna make this clear. You tell me what she’s got that they want, and I’ll get it for you. She trusts me. Instead of hunting her down, they can have it, and this can all be over. But if I do this, I want confirmation they won’t go after her or her daughter or any of my friends or family ever again.”

  “You want to make a deal?” Surprise rippled through Chris’s voice.

  Yeah, he did. He’d thought about it most of the night, and it was the only way he was going to be able to keep Simone and Shannon safe. It meant continuing to lie to her, and ultimately losing her, but it would be worth it to know he could put an end to this nightmare. At least for her. “I know you can make it happen, Murdoch.”

  Silence echoed across the line. Then quietly, Chris said, “They’ll bury you. Even after you bring it to them. They won’t forget that you went against them, even if they do agree to your demands. Are you ready for that?”

  Was
he? Mitch thought about his life. About what he was giving up. The thought of leaving behind his friends and family and everything he’d worked so hard for scared him shitless. But what scared him more was Simone paying for something that had nothing to do with her.

  “I’ll deal with it.”

  Time seemed to echo across the line. Then finally, Chris sighed. “I’m gonna have to call you back.”

  A tiny sliver of hope cut through Mitch. It didn’t mean he had an answer, but if Chris was agreeing to help him, it meant there was a chance. “Call me on my cell.”

  Mitch hung up, then stared down at the phone in his hand. There was a chance this could backfire on him. That Murdoch could have traced the call, that someone could be coming for them right now. But his gut said that wouldn’t happen. If the organization had gone to all that trouble to flush Simone out and scare her, it meant whatever she had was important. And it meant they wouldn’t jeopardize her safety just to get it, not when he was all but handing it to them.

  His hand closed around the phone as he headed back toward Tate’s house. Take the deal. Take the deal. Take the damn deal.

  The grounds were silent when he stepped from beach rocks to grass, the lights in the house still dark, save the one small lamp in the kitchen someone had left on before going to bed last night. He went back around the house toward the front door, quietly eased it open, then typed in—hopefully—the right alarm code. Warmth immediately surrounded him, and a shiver raced down his back, making him realize how cold it had been outside. Adrenaline had kept him from feeling it, but now that he was back in the house, he needed something to warm him up while he waited for Murdoch’s call.

  He rounded the corner into the kitchen, then drew up short when his sister turned from the counter, coffee cup in hand, and lifted her brows. “Someone’s up early.”

  Those nerves came back full force. She didn’t know what he’d been up to. She couldn’t. He glanced around the dimly lit kitchen, but they were the only two in the room. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

  “No.” Kate took her mug to the small table near the windows and slid into a chair. “Ryan was tossing and turning. I’d have kicked him to make him stop, but then he’d be awake, and I need some peace from his stressing right now.”

  Mitch smirked, poured himself a cup of coffee, then joined her at the table. “Not that I know how he sleeps, but I do know how he stresses. I don’t blame you for escaping.”

  “He’s worried about you.”

  Mitch knew that.

  “So am I, for that matter.”

  He knew that too. And he hated that he was causing her heartache. Leaning his forearm on the table, he reached around his mug, squeezed her hand, and worked up the best smile he could. “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine, Mitch.” When he let go of her hand and sat back, she eased forward, her eyes filled with the same damn persistence he remembered when they were kids, her voice with an emotion that tugged on his heart. “I love Simone. You know that. She was the first person I met when I came to San Francisco, and the first one I felt like I could truly trust. I owe her. A lot. But she’s not family. You are. And I hate to see what this relationship is doing to you. Especially now when we found out everything that she’s involved in.”

  “None of it was her fault.”

  “It doesn’t matter. By being with her, your life is in danger.”

  “Yours is too. You’re here right now just like I am.”

  “I’m not here because of her. There’s a big difference. I’m here because of you.”

  They’d always been close. As kids, he’d looked out for her, and in college, when he’d realized she was dating his womanizing best friend, he’d been willing to do whatever it took to protect her. Even jeopardize his scholarship to play ball just to keep her away from the guy. Until, that was, he’d realized how head over heels Ryan was in love with her. And when they’d lost her, when they thought she’d died in that plane crash, he felt like a part of him had died too. To have her back now was more than he’d ever hoped for, even if she was telling him something he didn’t want to hear.

  “What do you want me to do?” he asked quietly. “Walk away from her? I can’t do that. None of this is her fault. Just like what happened to you wasn’t yours. If I leave her now, I’ll never be able to forgive myself. Is that what you want?”

  “No. But…” Tears filled her eyes. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  Neither did he. But at this point, he was starting to think that was inevitable. He leaned forward again and clasped her hand again. Her palm was smaller than his, but her fingers were the same length, the same shape, and there was a familiarity in her grip. A bond of family that would never be broken. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

  “How do you know that?”

  How? Because he had to believe it. Otherwise…he didn’t know what he’d do.

  His phone buzzed in his pocket. Drawing it out, he glanced at the screen and felt his adrenaline surge. “I have to take this.”

  He pushed out of his chair and wove out of the kitchen so his sister couldn’t hear him. When he reached the den, he hit Answer.

  “Mathews,” he said into the phone.

  “They agreed.”

  Relief was swift and overwhelming.

  “They’re giving you three days,” Chris went on. “It’s a microchip containing sensitive information. All you need to know is that Graham stole it before he disappeared in witness protection, and the organization wants it back. If you can get it for them, you have your deal.”

  Three days. Mitch’s chest vibrated with excitement and hope. And a sharp shot of fear. “Three days isn’t a lot of time.”

  “If you can’t find it in three days, it means she got rid of it. And if that’s the case, then all bets are off, because she knows what it is.”

  Mitch tried to recall what Simone had told him she’d done during those weeks after her husband had died—which, admittedly, hadn’t been much. She had to have stored his things somewhere. She was a lawyer. She’d know not to get rid of important papers, if for no other reason than to document her time through WITSEC.

  The trick now would be getting her to agree to help him look for a microchip he shouldn’t know anything about.

  He’d work that out later. Right now, he was just thankful he had a chance. “I’ll take it.”

  Chris sighed. “I think you’re stupid. But then you already know that.” His voice sharpened. “No one from the organization will bother you for three days. I’ll be your contact. Call me when you have news. And Mitch?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t fuck with me on this. I went out on a limb here for you. If you’re planning to somehow double-cross the society, it’ll backfire.”

  “I understand.”

  The phone went dead in his ear. He lowered it and stared at the blank screen. Three days. Three days to finish this once and for all.

  Nerves humming, he tugged off the knit cap and raked a hand through his hair, already contemplating what he was going to say to Simone when she awoke. His only hope was to convince her Steve had squirreled something away as a backup plan before he’d gone into witness protection, which he obviously had. She didn’t need to know what it was or that he was involved. All he had to do was make her think looking through Steve’s things was her idea.

  When he walked back into the kitchen, Kate was pouring herself more coffee. She looked up from the carafe, her green eyes clouded with confusion and even more worry. “What’s going on?”

  Keep your cool. Don’t do anything to make the situation worse.

  He fixed a carefree look on his face. “Nothing. That was just my boss. I had to let him know I was taking a little more time off.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Are you sure that’s all that was? You seemed…anxious when you took that call.”

  He was. But she didn’t need to be worrying any more than she already was. He crossed the kitchen, slung an arm
over her shoulder, and told himself he might not be able to ease his sister’s worries in the long run, but he could give her some kind of peace of mind right now. And maybe he could even get her to help him.

  “Everything’s fine.” He steered her toward the refrigerator. “Though I think it might be a bit better if you made a batch of those famous pancakes of yours. Since we’re both up, I mean.”

  Her eyes narrowed even more, but this time it wasn’t with concern, it was with speculation and a hint of mischief. “Something tells me you’re trying to pull a fast one on me. And that you’ve done it before.”

  She might not be able to remember the years they spent growing up together, but she knew him better than she realized. “Who? Me?” He feigned shock. “I would never do something like that.”

  He pulled the fridge open and handed her a carton of eggs, then smiled his most charming grin, the one he used to distract women and get them to do what he wanted. “I like blueberries in my pancakes. In case you forgot.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Sunlight filtered through the windows, warming Simone’s face, rousing her from a deep sleep. Considering everything that had happened the night before, she hadn’t expected to sleep at all and was surprised when she opened her eyes to find the sun was already well above the mountains.

  Reality threatened to push in, but she didn’t want it to. At least not yet. Rolling away from the light, she slid her arm across the mattress, searching for Mitch. Her hand met cold, empty sheets.

  She sat up. Blinked several times. Looked around the room only to realize she was alone. “Mitch?”

  Silence met her ears. She glanced toward the open bathroom door and darkness beyond. Nothing moved.

  A shot of unease filtered through her, followed by the same damn insecurities she’d had last night.

  Climbing off the bed, she told herself she was reading way too much into his not being here this morning. It didn’t mean he regretted anything. Maybe it just meant he hadn’t been able to sleep.