Elisabeth Naughton - Hold On To Me

“I’ve got you.”

She didn’t feel herself falling, but she did feel Mitch’s arms close around her. And when his warm breath fanned her cheek and neck, tingles spread through her entire body. The same tingles she felt every time he held her close.

“I’ve got you,” he said again into her hair. “You told me to hold on to you, and I am. I’m not letting you go, because I can’t. God, I can’t. I need you too much, Simone. Please.” His arms tightened around her. “Please give me—give us—another chance.”

All her life, this was what she’d wanted. Someone who could deal with her ups and downs, who knew how to balance her irrationality and stubbornness, and who would love her enough to put her first no matter the situation. She’d had that in Steve, only she hadn’t realized it until it was too late. And now she’d found it in Mitch, a man she hadn’t been looking for, but whom she wanted. And needed. More than she’d ever thought possible.

All the uncertainty slid to the wayside. It didn’t matter what he’d kept from her. It didn’t even matter that she still didn’t know what to do next. All that mattered was that she loved him.

She lifted her hands to his sides. Closed her eyes. Started to wrap her arms around his lower back. “Mitch—“

“I was afraid she was going to be a problem.”

The voice coming from the doorway caused Mitch to go stone still against her, but Simone felt the way his pulse shot up. She couldn’t see who’d just arrived, and she didn’t recognize his voice, but some sixth sense told her Mitch did.

“Dammit, Mathews,” the man said in an exasperated tone. “I didn’t want it to end this way. I really didn’t.”

Mitch braced both hands on Simone’s shoulders, then turned, putting himself between her and the newcomer. But before he did, Simone caught a glimpse of his eyes. Wide, guarded, and frightened.

“Murdoch.” Mitch held out his hand. “The box is yours. Just take it.”

Simone took a step out from behind Mitch so she could see. The man in the doorway was tall and dark, wearing jeans and a navy jacket, and though she didn’t recognize his voice at first, she did know that face. Chris Murdoch. Mitch’s boss at PreCorp.

Holy shit. C.M. The initials that had been on those e-mails in Steve’s box.

Chris rubbed his left eye with a gloved hand. “We’re both smart men here, Mitch. You know that can’t happen now.” He dropped his hand and looked down at the open box. “Graham was stupid enough to put it on paper. She already read what’s in there.”

Simone stepped out from behind Mitch. “No one has to know. They’re yours. You can have them.”

“Simone,” Mitch warned.

“That’s all of it,” she said, ignoring Mitch. “There’s nothing else. Just let us go, and no one will know any of this happened.”

“I tried that,” Murdoch said to Mitch, not her. “That reporter, then Holdt. Did you know if Holdt hadn’t been fucking her and hadn’t talked, she never would have written that article, and we still wouldn’t know where Graham’s wife was?” He nodded toward Simone but kept his gaze on Mitch, almost as if she weren’t there.

Simone’s adrenaline spiked. No one leaves the society. The words echoed in her head as Murdoch pinned Mitch with a hard look.

“Dobbs wanted to just let it go after the society took care of Holdt and the reporter,” Murdoch went on. “He wanted to let her go. He said she wasn’t a threat after all this time. And I tried to go along with him, but then I found out she was right under my nose, and I just….couldn’t.”

“Yes, you can,” Mitch said. “You still can. Just take the box and go.”

“It was supposed to be an easy exchange,” Murdoch said, shaking his head as if Mitch hadn’t even spoken. “I flush the girl out, you step in to play hero—”

“Shooting up my house isn’t flushing anyone out,” Mitch snapped.

“No,” Murdoch agreed. “Those thugs I hired were a little too aggressive. I’ll give you that. Obviously, toning things down worked way better. I got you to offer to get me the file without even asking.”

Simone was having trouble keeping up, but everything that had happened since William Holdt’s call—Mitch’s house getting shot up, the security breach at Kendrick’s cabin, their stolen, charred car—it all started to make a sick sort of sense.

“You can still have it,” Mitch said. “We can all walk away from this.”

“Ah, Mitch.” Murdoch rubbed a finger over his brow. “Always the optimist. I want you to know I was going to let it go once I had the file, I really was, but you had to go and fuck it all up, and now I can’t do that anymore.”

He pulled out a gun. A shiny black gun that was bigger than the one Simone had found in Steve’s box, and pointed it right at Mitch.

“Mitch.” Simone gasped. Reflex had her stepping toward him.

Murdoch swiveled the barrel her way.

“Chris, dammit.” Panic snaked through Mitch’s voice. “If you hurt her, I swear to God I’ll kill you.”

“In a minute, I promise you won’t care.”

Simone sucked in a breath just as Murdoch pulled the trigger.

The gunshot exploded though the room with the force of a cannon. Simone screamed. Mitch slammed into her, knocking her off her feet. Her spine hit the concrete floor; her head snapped back and cracked against the unforgiving ground, sending pain shooting across her scalp. Mitch landed on top of her.

She opened her eyes to a flurry of red. She wasn’t sure where she’d been hit, but there was blood. A lot of blood. Then she saw Mitch’s face above her, contorted in pain.

“Mitch?” She struggled out from under him. “Mitch. No. Oh God. Mitch?”

“Son of a…” He grunted, rolled off her, and landed on the concrete floor. Blood oozed from a wound in his side, already seeping through his jacket.

Simone yanked his coat back and pressed her hands against the wound, frantic to stop the blood. Mitch’s eyes fell closed. He hissed in a breath and winced.

“Stay with me, do you hear me?” Her chest squeezed tight, so tight she could barely speak. “Mitch?”

His head rolled on the floor. Simone pushed down on the wound. “I need help.” There was so much blood. Oh, God… There was too much. “I need help, dammit!”

Murdoch sighed somewhere behind her. “His number was up the minute he called offering that deal. But I was ready to live up to our bargain until tonight. You hear me, Mathews? I was going to just delete my name from those e-mails and let Dobbs take the fall, but I can’t do that now that she knows. She’ll always be a liability, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s that liabilities are best dealt with swiftly.”

Simone focused on Mitch’s face. Love and heartache exploded inside her. “You idiot,” she whispered. “You made a deal with him for me? What were you thinking?”

“Was thinking…about you,” Mitch managed, having trouble breathing. “I didn’t know…it was him,” He lifted his hand and set it over hers against his wound.

Simone knew that. Tears filled her eyes. She knew he’d never do anything but try to protect her. She’d been so stupid about so many things.

“That’s really romantic,” Murdoch said. “Too bad you two were doomed from the start.”

Mitch squeezed Simone’s hand, opened his eyes, and rolled them to the left. And without turning her head, Simone glanced the direction he indicated.

He’d kicked the box toward her when he’d thrown himself in front of that bullet. Steve’s gun was inches away.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Links clicked into place in Simone’s mind. She calculated the distance, the angle, the time it would take to grab the weapon. Her chances were slim, but she wasn’t going to let Mitch die without a fight.

“I know,” she whispered back.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway, followed by voices. Mitch let go of her hand. When Murdoch turned to look toward the door, Simone didn’t hesitate. She let go of Mitch, lurched for the gun, turned, and fired.

The bullet caught Murdoch in the shoulder. He grunted and fell back against the wall. Simone fired again, not even sure where she was aiming. Another gunshot rang out, this one not from her gun. Mitch’s raspy voice echoed, then he slammed into her again, taking her down to the ground.

Her hand hit the cement floor, and the gun went flying. A crack echoed from across the room. More voices. But Simone couldn’t see what was going on. Mitch was on top of her again, only this time he was like dead weight. Immovable.

“Mitch.” Panic pushed her muscles forward. She fought against him but couldn’t get him to move. “Oh God, Mitch!”

“Tate.” Ryan. That was Ryan’s voice. “Help me.”

Strong hands lifted Mitch from her. Simone scrambled to her feet, then gasped when she realized Mitch had been hit again, this time in the shoulder.

“Holy shit,” Kendrick muttered.

“Call 911,” Ryan yelled.

Kendrick whipped out his phone and started talking frantically. Across the room, Murdoch was out cold against the far wall, his gun yards away on the ground. Ryan tugged off his jacket and shoved it against the wound in Mitch’s side. “Simone, hold this here while I try to get at his shoulder.”

Simone’s bloody hands pressed against Mitch’s side.

“Son of a bitch.” Ryan yanked at the sleeve of Mitch’s shirt. “If we hadn’t gotten stuck behind that accident on the 101, we would have been here long before this happened.”

Simone tried to see what Ryan was doing, but everything was blurry. All she knew was it was bad. Mitch wasn’t answering. He wasn’t even moving.

“You sure have a knack for finding trouble,” Ryan muttered. “You know that, Mitch?”