Hold On To Me

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

“Mitch?”

Struggling to get his still-bandaged shoulder and arm into the damn hoodie, Mitch grunted from the cramped bathroom in his hospital room and rasped, “I’m in here.”

Footsteps echoed from beyond the door, then Kate’s gentle voice said, “Are you okay?”

That was a loaded question. Sweat slicking his forehead, his spine, nearly every inch of his skin, he glanced in the bathroom mirror, then looked away in disgust. His face was pale, his cheeks sunken, and the beard on his jaw had passed scruffy, even for him, and was now heading toward mountain-man scary. Not to mention he was so weak he couldn’t even get his own fucking sweatshirt on. No wonder Simone hadn’t been by to see him in days. He looked like death warmed over and felt like it too.

Repulsed by himself, he kicked the door open and took one step into the hospital room where he’d spent the last week. “Does this look okay to you?”

A ghost of a smile curled Kate’s lips, and she laughed at the hoodie half hanging off his body and twisted around his back, then quickly covered it with a frown. “Sorry. It’s not funny. I didn’t mean to laugh. Come sit and I’ll help you.”

Grinding his teeth, he shuffled toward the bed—shuffled, fuck, he couldn’t even walk like a normal person thanks to the pain still radiating up his side and the shortness of breath from his damaged lung. And oh great, he was sweating all over again, just from that little effort.

The TV was running a news program in the corner of the room, the sound on low. Dropping onto the side of the bed, he groaned, hating the smell of the room, the feel of the mattress, hating everything about this goddamn place.

Kate unzipped the hoodie, then moved around his back to gently bring the garment over his bad shoulder. “Let me guess, Mom picked these up for you.”

Mitch glanced down at the matching navy sweatpants he’d managed to tug on. “What gave it away? The cheap fabric or the fact the damn zipper doesn’t work?”

Kate pulled something from the back of the hoodie and held it up for him to see. “The price tag. We all know how much she loves Walmart.”

Mitch rolled his eyes. His mother had brought him three different sweat suits just like this, all in different colors, and while he appreciated the thought, once he got out of this godforsaken place, he wasn’t going to be caught dead in any of them. “Before I forget, I wanted to say thanks so much for calling them. Mom and Dad have been camped out in this room since I woke up, driving me batshit crazy.”

“You’re welcome. I’m just returning the favor. Remember how they rushed down here when you called and told them I was in town?”

“That was different, and you know it.”

“As I remember you saying, ‘it’s time you started pulling your weight in this family.’ Well, they’ve been hovering over me for six months. Now it’s your turn.”

He couldn’t argue with that. Their parents hadn’t wanted to let Kate out of their sight, and though he couldn’t blame them—after all, finding out your long-lost daughter was actually alive would spur anyone to do a little hovering—a tiny part of him felt guilty for enjoying the respite from their meddling.

“Where are they, by the way?” she asked.

“Talking to my doctor, I’m sure. Making sure I’m not going to inadvertently puncture the other lung by leaving. I swear they think I’m still twelve.”

Kate smiled. “You’ll always be their baby, Mitch. No way around that for a parent.”

He wouldn’t know. He wasn’t a parent and probably wouldn’t ever be one. His mind shifted to Shannon, and he wondered where she was and what she was doing. He hadn’t seen her since Ryan’s parents had brought the kids back to San Francisco, and while he knew a hospital wasn’t exactly a place for kids, he missed her.

“Do you want the sling inside or outside your sweatshirt?”

“Outside.” The weather had decided to kick into gear, and it was fucking cold outside. No way was he heading out there in his condition with an open hoodie.

Kate helped him slide his arm through the sleeve. Pain pinched his shoulder where he’d been shot, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the pain in his side every time he twisted. And it didn’t even compare to what was happening in the center of his chest each time he thought of Simone.

By the time she finished and helped him tug the zipper up the front, he was sweating buckets. “God Almighty, I’m fucking useless.”

“No you’re not. You’re just injured. You’ve gotta give yourself time to heal.” She sat on the bed next to him and reached for his hand. Her fingers closed around his, strong, sure, familiar. “It’s going to be okay. Have a little faith.”

He frowned her direction. “Don’t patronize me.”

“It’s the same thing you told me, and you were right.”

“I was blowing smoke up your ass. You should have been smart enough to see that. Simone obviously was.”

“Mitch—”

“No, you know what?” He let go of her hand, knowing he sounded like the scorned lover and hating himself even more for that. “It’s fine. I’ll get over it. Forget I said anything.”

Kate was silent at his side for a moment, then said, “She’s been here. You’ve just been sleeping a lot.”

Right. Yeah. Sleeping. Not every moment, though. And while he did remember her being here when he’d first come out of surgery, groggy and half out of it from the anesthesia and pain meds, he didn’t remember seeing much of her since. “It’s fine, Kate.”

“She’s also had to deal with Shannon and all the fallout from the press once the story went public. That’s exhausting. Trust me, I know.”

He knew that was true. He’d caught clips of it on the news. Simone had turned the file over to the Feds, who were running a full-scale investigation on Senator Dobbs, Chris Murdoch, and PreCorp, which included exhuming Simone’s late husband’s body and testing it for various poisons. And though no link to the Cyphers had been made by the big news outlets yet—the running story was simply a senator in bed with big oil, and his accountant who’d turned on him—conspiracy theorist websites were bubbling over with speculation about the secret society and the organization’s future.

“Ryan said you got a visit from Paul Messing yesterday,” she said quietly.

Mitch focused on a square tile on the floor and nodded. “He’s the new acting chairman of Cypher and Dagger. He was a few years ahead of me in school. I met him a couple of times at various functions but don’t know him well.”

“What did he say?”

“He apologized for everything that’s happened, if you can believe that. Said Murdoch was acting on his own and that the society didn’t know anything about Holdt or Dobbs or Steve’s death. He also said the society isn’t standing behind either of them.”

“Isolating themselves from the drama, like Ryan said they would.”

“Yeah.” Too little too late, in Mitch’s opinion, but…whatever.

“You know why they’re doing that, right?” Kate asked.

“Because they’re not stupid.”

“Because Simone held back part of the evidence in Steve’s box.”

Mitch looked her way. “What are you talking about?”

“There was more in there besides Steve’s medical files. He was the Cypher’s treasurer for several years. All that evidence the Feds thought he had linking the organization to money laundering, racketeering, and bribery? He really had it. On a zip drive in the bottom of the box. He just never let it go public for fear of retaliation against Simone and Shannon. Simone, Ryan, and Ryan’s team of lawyers met with Messing two days ago and laid it all on the line. So long as the organization backs off and leaves all of us alone, you especially, she won’t release what Steve collected. But if anything happens to you—to any of us—it’ll go public with one click. Ryan said she was a force to be reckoned with in the meeting. Even his high-paid team of legal whiz kids was impressed.”

Awe rippled through Mitch. She was always a force to be reckoned with in a legal setting. Negotiations were her strong suit, and in a business environment… Yeah, he just bet she was a shark waiting to strike.

He couldn’t be mad at her for not being here. Not when she was dealing with all that. And not when he now knew she was the reason Messing had given him the option of staying in the society or leaving for good, something he’d wanted for years.

God, he loved that woman. Ached for her. Wished like hell she was here right now. And didn’t want to think too much about what it meant that she wasn’t.

“Speaking of your obnoxious husband,” he said, wanting—needing—to change the subject. “Where is he?”

“Talking to your doctors too. You scared him, Mitch. You scared all of us.”

He nodded, not wanting to think about that. Because if he had it to do all over again, he’d put his life on the line for Simone’s in the exact same way.

The door to his room pushed open, and Ryan poked his head around the curtain. “You decent?”

Mitch frowned. “As decent as I’m going to get.”

“Cool,” Ryan said, “because I got all your discharge papers. You’re set to go.”

“Thank God,” Mitch muttered.

Kate pushed to her feet, then moved around the bed to grab Mitch’s bag.

Ryan backed into the room, dragging a wheelchair with him. Mitch’s frown turned to a scowl. “I’m not using that.”

“Yes, you are,” the nurse said behind Ryan. “Hospital policy. If you want to leave, this is your flying carpet.”

Ryan grinned. “She said I could push, if that makes you feel any better.”

Joy. Bracing his hands against the mattress, Mitch grunted and finally balanced his weight on his feet. But it took several tries, and he knew he looked like a wimp. “You’ll probably run me into a wall and enjoy it.”

Ryan chuckled and helped him into the chair. While the nurse fixed the footrests for him, Ryan leaned down and muttered, “I’m hurt. I really am. Especially after that kiss we shared.”

Kate barked out a laugh, then covered her mouth with her hand.

Mitch’s face twisted in disgust. “That wasn’t a kiss, dipshit, it was CPR, which, thankfully, I don’t remember. And I’ll be washing my mouth out with Listerine for the next year, thanks to you.”

Ryan’s laugh deepened, and he steered the wheelchair toward the door. “You liked it. You were begging for more. I gotta say, though, I don’t know why the girls are always falling over you. Your sister kisses way better than you do.”

“Ryan,” Kate warned.

“What?” he said, feigning shock. “It’s true. Your kisses are hot, babe. His? Not so much.”

Resting his elbow on the armrest, Mitch rubbed his suddenly aching temples. “I’m gonna be sick. I really am.”

“Well, that’s because you’re a girly man who’s always getting hurt,” Ryan jabbed. “Cheer up, though. I’m sure we can find some pathetic woman to play nursemaid to you. There are still a few out there who like you.”

Mitch wasn’t so sure. And just any woman wasn’t going to do it for him. Not anymore. The only one he wanted obviously no longer wanted him back.

Mitch closed his eyes on the drive to Kate and Ryan’s house. A tiny part of him had held out hope Simone would show up as he was leaving, take him to her house, and nurse him back to health like she’d done after he’d suffered that head injury six months ago. But now that he was settled into the front seat of Ryan’s Mercedes, his arm resting in the sling at his chest, his head kicked back against the headrest, and his eyes closed, he knew he had to buck up to the fact that little fantasy had crashed and burned, big-time.

The car made a right-hand turn and slowed. At his side, Ryan muttered, “Is that Kendrick we just passed on a bike?”

Mitch didn’t open his eyes. The last thing he wanted to see was someone having fun.

“I think so,” Kate said from the backseat. “And there’s your daughter ahead. They are two peas in a pod, aren’t they?”

“I told him to stay away from her. The son of a bitch doesn’t listen.”

Kate sighed. “She likes him, Ryan. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“There is from the other side. He flirts with her.”

“She’s almost a teenager. Get used to it. Lots of boys are going to be flirting with her soon.”

“Not full-grown men.”

“Maybe he just likes kids.”

“Maybe it’s just wrong.”

Kate let out an exasperated sound. “Mitch, was he always like this with Julia? Overprotective and unreasonable?”

“Always,” Mitch said, his eyes still closed. “And I’m with him on this one. Kendrick’s a player. He might not be interested in Julia now, but give him eight years. Or six.”

“Do not even joke about that,” Ryan warned.

A tiny smile tugged at Mitch’s mouth. The first one he’d felt in days. But it quickly faded when he thought of Shannon and the fact he wanted to be that for her. Not exactly the domineering father Ryan was, but her dad, yeah. Worrying over her like any real dad would.

The car made another right turn, and something about the direction Ryan was heading felt off. Slowly, Mitch’s eyelids lifted, and he looked out the windshield.

He stiffened in the front seat, and the motion caused a stab of pain to slink up his side. “I thought we were going to your house?”

“Pit stop first,” Ryan said.

Unease floated through Mitch’s gut. “I’m not really in the mood to see my place.”

Shit, was Ryan trying to depress him more? The last thing he needed on top of a gunshot wound—two gunshot wounds—and a broken heart was to see his house, the house he’d remodeled with his own two hands, full of holes he didn’t have the strength to fix.

“Pull up your big-girl panties, Mathews. You might be surprised at what you find.”

Ryan made the last turn, and Mitch tensed as his house came into view. But instead of bullet holes and broken windows, what he saw sent a flutter of surprise straight through his belly.

New windows, new trim, new siding, even a fresh coat of paint. The porch that had been damaged had been rebuilt. The bushes he knew had been trampled, replaced. There was a new front door, this one black, trendy, the kind of door he’d been looking for for months but hadn’t been able to find, with three small panes of glass across the top. Someone had even mowed the lawn.

Ryan pulled to the curb and killed the engine. Shocked, Mitch looked from the contractor’s van parked in the drive to the house, unable to believe it was the same place. “How did you—?”

“Surprise,” Ryan said.

Voices echoed behind their car, but Mitch was still too focused on the house to turn and look. Laughing, Kate popped the door and hollered at Julia and Kendrick, who went whizzing by on their bikes.

“I…don’t know what to say,” Mitch said to Ryan when they were alone.

“Don’t say anything to me. I didn’t do this.”

Mitch dragged his gaze from the house and finally looked at his best friend. “My parents?”

Ryan shook his head. “Not Katie either. Though when she found out about it, it was all I could do to keep her from spilling the beans.” He pulled something from his pocket and tossed it into Mitch’s lap. “This time, don’t fuck things up, okay?”

Mitch stared down at the small, black velvet box in his hand, having trouble processing Ryan’s words. Before his brain could click into gear, Ryan opened the door and climbed out of the car.

“Oh, and one more thing, Mathews. When you go in there, cut the woman a little slack. She’s kicked some serious ass this week while you’ve been parked on yours. And she did it all spending every damn night in your hospital room, sleeping on that uncomfortable couch while you were high on painkillers. I wouldn’t have done it, even if you did kiss me. She’s a keeper. But then, I’m pretty sure you already know that.”

Ryan closed the door, shouted something at Kendrick Mitch couldn’t make out, then took off across the street. Silence settled over the inside of the car. A silence that was broken only by the sudden pounding in Mitch’s ears. Slowly, he popped the top on the small box and looked down at the engagement ring he’d bought for Simone and never given her.

His gaze shot back up to the house. And, adrenaline surging, he found a strength he was pretty sure he’d lost the last few days.

It took him longer than he liked to walk up the path, and he was sweating by the halfway mark. Pausing to catch his breath, he looked up at the house. Before he could take another step, red curls filled his vision, and a small voice exclaimed, “Mitch!”

Shannon rushed toward him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and held on tight. Her arm knocked into the bandage on his side, and he winced, but the pain was worth it. Warmth flooded his chest. He wanted to drop to his knees, take her into his arms, but he wasn’t sure he could get back up if he did. And he didn’t want to look pathetic.

He rubbed a hand over her hair and smiled down at her. “Hey, you. Miss me, did ya?”

Shannon laughed and looked up at him. “Yes. We had so much fun. We went swimming and snorkeling and got to sleep on this really cool boat. I can’t wait to tell you all about it.”

And Mitch couldn’t wait to hear it. But he needed to make it inside the house. Pulse racing, he looked back up at the open front door, not wanting to be disappointed, not wanting to hope too much. “Is your mom in there?”

“Yeah, Mom’s been bossing people around all morning. Man, your house was such a mess! Whoever broke in did all kinds of damage. It’s a good thing you weren’t home. I mean, there were holes everywhere.”

Shannon’s hurried voice echoed in Mitch’s ears, but all he could focus on was the fact Simone was here. She hadn’t left San Francisco. She hadn’t run away. She was still here, and that meant—maybe—they had a chance.

A lump formed in his throat, and he pushed his feet forward. Sweat slicked his spine when he got to porch, but excitement urged him on. Keeping his good arm wrapped around Shannon while she continued to babble on about her trip, he stepped through the open door, barely able to believe the change.

The house looked exactly the way it had before. Someone had even reframed his signed Mariner’s jersey that had fallen off the wall in the entry and crashed to the ground in a pile of glass during the attack.

Voices echoed from the kitchen. A man’s. Simone’s.

His pulse skyrocketed.

Mitch headed that way, his heart pulling him, his pulse pounding. When he reached the great room, he froze.

Simone stood in the kitchen, pointing something out on the ceiling to a man wearing a ball cap and tool belt. The man answered whatever she asked, jotted a note, pointed at something else. And though Mitch could hear their words, he couldn’t focus on what they were saying. All he could see was her, standing in his kitchen, fixing what he’d broken, doing all this for him.

As if she sensed him, she turned abruptly. Shannon’s voice died off as he stood staring at her mother. Surprise flashed in Simone’s eyes, followed by… Yeah, that looked like excitement, didn’t it? “Mitch.”

The breathy cadence of her voice sent a shiver down his spine. God, he loved the sound of her voice. Loved the way she said his name. Missed it. So damn much.

The contractor turned too, said something Mitch didn’t catch. In a daze, Mitch lifted his good arm from Shannon in a pathetic wave. The man muttered something about the laundry room, then excused himself and disappeared down the hall.

“You’re earlier than I thought you’d be,” Simone said, rubbing her hands on the hem of the blue T-shirt that accentuated her breasts and made him remember how he’d worshipped them the night they’d stayed in Stinson Beach. She moved out from behind the island quickly, rushing toward him, but drew up short a foot away. “I wanted to be at the hospital, but there was too much going on here. I thought we had at least another hour.”

If she’d wanted to be at the hospital, that was a good sign, right? But she wasn’t moving into him. Wasn’t reaching for him. And though he wanted to pull her close and reassure himself everything between them was okay, he didn’t know if he should. Didn’t know where they stood. And, man, that was more pathetic than anything. “You did all this?”

Simone glanced up and around. “Yes. Well, no, I didn’t do it. I just…directed.”

“Mom’s good at directing,” Shannon said at his side. “I think the contractor’s a lot afraid of her.”

“Shannon,” Simone muttered, glancing down at her daughter. “Why don’t you go outside with Julia for a few minutes and let me talk to Mitch alone.”

Shannon cast a worried look between them, but eased away from Mitch. “You’re not going to disappear again, right?”

Even in the middle of the biggest surprise of his life, the kid could still get to him. His throat grew tight. “I won’t. I promise.”

He watched Shannon head down the hall toward the front door, his chest and head vibrating with emotions he was afraid to let free.

In front of him, Simone twisted her hands together and bit her lip. “How do you feel? You look a little pale.”

He slid his gaze back to her. How did he feel? He wasn’t sure yet. But he’d be a hell of a lot better if she kissed him. “I’m…fine. I—”

A very familiar string instrument floated out of the speakers in the ceiling, cutting off Mitch’s words.

Simone cringed. “That’s Shannon. Sorry.”

Mitch wasn’t. Van Morrison. “These are the Days.” The song that had been playing the night she’d come home from DC.

He just hoped like hell this time things ended better than they had then.

“I can’t believe you did all this,” he said.

“Well.” She dropped her hands to her sides. “I broke this. It was my job to fix it.

She was talking about more than just the house. God, please let her be talking about more than the house. “No, you didn’t. It was my fault too. I’m the one who should be doing the fixing.”

Her eyes held his a long heartbeat, but she didn’t answer. And in the silence, every fear he’d had since that awful night came rushing back.

Tears pooled in her eyes, and her kiss-me lips parted, just a touch. “Mitch, I…”

Say you miss me. Say you want me. Please say you still love me, even after everything that’s happened.

One single tear rolled down her cheek. And then she was moving toward him, grasping his face, pulling it down to hers, shaking with the same emotions he felt. “Don’t you dare put me through that again. I can’t lose you. Not now when I finally found you.”

Her mouth lifted to his. She wrapped her arms around his neck. And even as pain shot through his shoulder and side at the jerky movement, he groaned, opened to her kiss, wrapped his good arm around her, and tugged her as close as he could.

His legs went out from under him. He dropped to his knees on the hardwood floor. Simone pulled her mouth away and gasped. “Mitch? Oh God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t mean—”

Yes, he hurt. And yes, he was in pain, but this pain he could live with because it would pass. Losing her wouldn’t. “I’m fine. Just kiss me, Simone.” He lifted his mouth to hers. “Ah, God, just kiss me.”

She sank to her knees with him, and he swept his tongue between her lips, kissing her again, deeply, passionately, with every bit of love swirling inside him. And when she groaned and kissed him back just as fervently, that heart that had broken and cracked right here in this very room fused back together.

The twinge in his side eventually got to be too much, and he dragged his mouth from hers, but he didn’t let go. Burying his face in her hair, he held on tight. “I missed you. Damn, but you have no idea how much.”

“I missed you too,” she whispered. “I was so scared. I shouldn’t have run from you. I’m sorry. I thought… Oh it doesn’t matter what I thought anymore.” Her fingers sifted into his hair, and she held him so close he could feel the beat of her heart against his own, just where it was supposed to be. “All that matters is that I love you. So much. And I won’t run again. I promise. I only want you. If, that is, you still want me.”

He lifted his head and looked down at her. “I’ve always just wanted you. You and Shannon and a stupid minivan. You’re everything to me, Counselor. You always will be.”

Her eyes softened, and very gently, with her hands cupping his face, she pressed her lips to his. “I’m so glad to hear that. But”—she eased a breath away—“there’s just one thing. How sold are you on the whole minivan thing?”

“Why?” A whisper of doubt rushed in. “What are you getting at?”

She bit her lip, looking sexy and cute and way too damn perfect. “It’s just… I don’t quite know how to tell you this.” Her cute little nose wrinkled. “I don’t think your Defender’s going to make it.”

His Land Rover hadn’t been in the driveway. He hadn’t realized that until just now. Which meant it probably had as many, if not more, holes than his house.

And, wow, he didn’t even care. What did that say about him now? But he could tell from the mischievous little smirk on her face that she wanted him to play along.

“Ouch. I think that hurt more than being shot. Twice.”

She laughed, the sound as sweet as bells, and stroked her fingers against his scruffy jaw. “How about I make it up to you?”

Arousal speared through his belly. An arousal that obviously wasn’t deterred by gunshot wounds or surgery or killer pain meds. “That depends on what you have in mind.”

Simone grinned and pressed her lips against the spot she’d just been stroking. “Well, I was thinking, if you’d consider upgrading to something a little sportier, I might be willing to go hiking with you now and then.”

“That does have potential.” He thought of the fire lookout and all the things he’d wanted to do to her in that cozy little room. His blood warmed as she trailed her lips to his ear and gently bit down on his lobe. “Even if there could be bears on our hike?”

“No bears.”

He chuckled. “That might be hard to guarantee. What else are you offering?”

“Hm… Well, if the vehicle’s big enough, say…like Kendrick’s Range Rover…then how about a car seat. Or two?”

Kids. She was talking about more kids. Smile fading, he drew back and looked down into her mesmerizing eyes. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “But only if you marry me first. Because I still want to marry you. Desperately.”

He hadn’t thought he could fall more in love with her, but he did, right there. And this time his shortness of breath wasn’t from his still-healing lung, but from all the emotions tightening his chest. “Ah, sweetheart. I’m pretty sure I’m making out better in this deal than you.”

“Not a chance.” Her smile returned, and she lifted her lips back to his. “I’m a lawyer. I know how to negotiate a contract to my advantage. So what do you say?”

He let go of her with his good arm, pulled the ring from his pocket, and held it up. “I say…yes.”

Her eyes went all soft and dreamy when she looked down at the princess-cut diamond, and one tear turned into several. “Oh, Mitch. Where did you get that?”

“Shannon helped me pick it out. Weeks ago.”

“Weeks ago,” she whispered. Her eyes slid closed, and she drew in an unsteady breath. But when she opened them again, they were warm and glistening with tears he knew were filled with happiness, not despair. “It’s beautiful. I love it.”

He slid the ring on her finger, then tipped her mouth back up to his. And as the music shifted to “Someone Like You,” he kissed her until she was breathless. Until he could no longer think. Until she was all he could see and feel and know.

“I love you, Mitch Mathews.” She wrapped her arms around him. “And I promise I won’t ever let you go, so long as you hold on tight to me.”

“I will.” That was a promise he knew he could keep. “Guaranteed.”