Elisabeth Naughton - Hold On To Me

“Fine. She went to bed around eight. Said she was really tired. I checked on her once. She was sound asleep and didn’t even move when her door creaked.”

Shannon slept like the dead. When she was exhausted, nothing could rouse that kid. And considering she hadn’t slept much the night before, it made sense tonight she’d be zonked out.

Simone smiled weakly, hating the reason her daughter hadn’t slept. Hating even more that she was hurting as much as Simone. “It’s late. Why don’t you just spend the night?”

Melody reached for her shoes from the floor. “No, that’s okay. I told my folks I’d be late, so they’re expecting me. And it’s only a few blocks, anyway.”

A whisper of relief passed through Simone. Being responsible for one more person was a burden she was thankful not to have to bear tonight. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

She waited while Melody gathered her things—backpack, laptop, cell phone, charger—the girl traveled with an entire mini office. After walking her to the door, Simone handed her the cash—and a big tip. “Can you come by on Friday? I’ll be packing all day, and I’m sure Shannon would love the company.”

“Sure thing. I’ll see you then. Just text me the time.”

Simone watched the teen climb in her car and drive off, then closed the door. Turning, she looked down the dark hall.

A tension headache kicked up behind her eyes. She pressed shaky fingers to her temples and told herself to stay calm. Focus on the most important things. Like where the hell she and Shannon were going to go. Maybe they should head north, to Washington, or perhaps northeast, toward Montana. Shannon probably wouldn’t mind seeing snow again.

God, Simone hated snow.

Thoughts spun out of control as she forced her feet up the stairs. She wasn’t going to sleep again tonight, she could already tell. Every second she stayed here was one more second they were closer to finding her. And she wasn’t about to let that happen.

She stopped at Shannon’s bedroom door, cracked it open an inch, and gently pushed. The heavy wood creaked, and she peaked inside. Her daughter lay curled under a pile of blankets, so many Simone couldn’t even see that telltale red hair that was just like her father’s.

A sigh escaped her lips. Shannon was still so mad at her. They hadn’t talked much since she’d picked Shannon up from Ryan and Kate’s, and she knew her daughter was hurting over the fact Mitch had cut and run, but Simone couldn’t do anything about that now. Someday, though, hopefully, Shannon would understand why she’d done everything. Someday maybe Mitch would too.

She pushed thoughts of the man who’d distracted her way too much over the last few months from her mind and crossed soundlessly to Shannon’s queen-size bed. The mattress sagged when she sat, and love for a daughter she’d never even wanted warmed the cold space in her chest.

“I love you, Nannon,” she said softly, using the nickname Steve had given Shannon because she hadn’t been able to say her own name until she was three. “Even if you don’t think I do. We have to stick together, baby. Everything always turns out okay when we do.”

She ran her hand over the lump beneath the covers. But instead of the hard shoulder she expected to touch, her hand sank into softness.

“What the…?” She tugged the blanket back and stared down at a lump of pillows.

A gasp ripped from her chest, and Simone pushed to her feet. Scenarios—mostly bad—filled her mind.

They'd been here. They'd taken her daughter. Panic dragged the air from her chest. She'd wasted valuable time at the office when she should have just grabbed Shannon and run.

A shimmer of white on the floor caught her attention, and she stopped feet from the door. Leaning forward, she picked up the folded sheet of paper and opened it.

Her daughter’s curvy handwriting was scrawled across the page. A sixteen-digit number was separated into four groups. A credit card number, she realized. Followed by an expiration date. And below that, times. One next to the word “out.” The other beside “fairy.”

Her chest rose and fell with her quick breaths while she tried to make sense of what she was reading. Fairy…fairy… Shannon was a terrible speller. Had she meant to write ferry?

Oh holy God…

She was running away? Because she was so miserable? Because Simone was such a horrible mother? No, that couldn’t be. Simone stared at the number again. She didn’t recognize it, which meant it wasn’t hers. And Shannon didn’t even know how to use a credit card. Besides, she wouldn’t be stupid enough to run off by herself right now when they were packing to move, not without…

Everything inside Simone went cold. And in her mind, links clicked into place.

Not without help.

“Did you hear that?” Kate lifted her head from the pillow and looked toward the door.

Beside her, Ryan tossed a leg over her thigh and wrapped his hand around her waist. “I don’t hear anything. But since you woke me at this hour…”

He nuzzled her neck and pressed his rapidly growing erection against her hip. Tingles spread through Kate’s entire body, but the banging from somewhere downstairs overrode her simmering desire. She pushed against his shoulder. “That. You heard it that time, didn’t you?”

He stilled, lifted his head. When it happened again, his handsome features tightened. “That time I did.”

He tossed back the covers and tugged on the pajama bottoms she’d yanked off him only hours ago. “Stay here.”

Like that was happening .

Kate glanced toward the bedside clock as he jerked their bedroom door open and disappeared down the stairs—2:35 a.m. Pulling on her own T-shirt and pajama bottoms, she followed.

Cool air spilled into the entry hall. Ryan’s concerned voice floated up the stairs. “What’s wrong?”

A flustered and windblown Simone swept into the house. “I called several times, but you didn’t answer. Is Shannon here?”

“Shannon?” Kate moved from carpet on the stairs to tile in the foyer. Light from the chandelier cascaded over her friend’s messy dark hair. Simone's jacket hung off one shoulder, her eyes were red and bloodshot, and Kate was pretty sure the usually calm and collected attorney was wearing two different colored shoes. “No. Is she supposed to be? We haven’t seen her all day. What’s happened?”

“I don’t know.” Simone lifted her arms, then dropped them on a huff. “I think she might have run off. We had an argument last night, and today I’ve been at the office getting everything finalized. Melody—our babysitter—was with her. I already talked to her, and she said Shannon was in her room at eight.” She pressed the palm of her hand against her forehead. “But that was like six hours ago. She could be anywhere by now. I have to find her.”

“Okay, calm down.” Ryan reached for Simone's shoulders and turned her to face him. He was so good in a crisis. Kate loved that about him. Loved that when she felt ready to flip out, he was the calm to her crazy. “Where would Shannon go besides our house?”

“I don’t know. But I found this on the floor in her room.” Simone held out a slip of paper. “It was just lying there like she dropped it. I don’t know whose credit card number that is—”

“I do.” Ryan looked up from the note in his hand and frowned.

He handed the note to Kate, exasperation reflecting clearly in his features. “Wait here, both of you. I have a feeling I know what’s going on.”

He disappeared up the steps. Kate turned Simone for the living room. “Do you want coffee? Something to drink?”

“A lobotomy, if you have it.” Simone dropped onto the couch and pressed her hands against her head. “She’s never run off before. I don’t understand. I know she’s mad at me but…”