THE MITUS TOUCH: Book One of The Touch Series

by Stoni Alexander

  “There’s been a shooting on my property,” Colton said. “I need two ambulances.”

  Chad rushed outside, slamming the door behind him. “How can I help?”

  Colton shoved his phone into his hand. “Give the emergency operator our address.”

  Taylor cracked open the front door. “Is Brigit okay?”

  “Stay inside!” Colton knelt by Brigit. “Were you hit?”

  “Yes.” Feeling lightheaded, she swayed forward.

  Cradling her in his arms, he opened her coat and unbuttoned her suit jacket. “I don’t see a chest wound. Let’s check your arm.”

  Vonn knelt beside Ray as the dark pool of blood expanded on the cobblestone walkway beneath him. With two fingers pressed to Ray’s neck, he shook his head.

  “Paramedics and police are on their way,” Chad said, then squatted next to Colton.

  “I’ve got her.” Colton tossed a nod in Vonn’s direction. “Make sure Vonn’s okay.”

  As Chad bolted over, Colton flipped his focus back to Brigit. His eyes were coal black and a shadow fell across his face. A shudder ran through her. His jaw ticked and he looked away.

  Even though she’d tried to tell him, more than once, Vinny Ray had done it for her. Brigit’s contrived life was unraveling. The burn in her arm was nothing compared to the frenetic pounding in her chest. Her secret past had collided with her convoluted present at the worst possible time. She needed Colton to look at her. “Can you help me sit up?”

  “The bullet tore through your sleeve,” he said, refusing to make eye contact. “Let’s get this coat off, so I can see where it lodged.” Carefully he helped her remove her coat.

  “Ow, ow, ow.” The arm of her charcoal suit was blood-soaked. Payback is painful.

  “I’ve got to stop the bleeding. This will hurt,” he said, then applied pressure.

  She winced. With her other hand, she squeezed his arm. Of course it would hurt. Her past had been exposed, along with a five-and-a-half-year-old sin. When she’d sought vengeance, she’d not given thought to future consequences. A man lay dead, but not before exposing her true identity.

  And the man she’d once despised now appeared to despise her. Colton had morphed into a block of stone. Though he attended to her wound, the warmth in his eyes had faded. His energy mirrored rolling thunder during a blinding rainstorm.

  The wailing sirens cut off as whirling lights of two ambulances, two police cruisers, and a fire engine loomed into view. The caravan filed up the driveway and parked.

  While the first responding police officer spoke with Vonn, two paramedics assessed Vinny Ray. Then, Ray was covered with a sheet and hoisted onto a stretcher. Though she blamed him for the deaths of her parents, she’d never wanted him to pay for his crime with his life.

  “It’s only a flesh wound, but you’ll need sutures,” said the paramedic, kneeling next to her. Accepting her fate, Brigit was placed on the stretcher.

  When Colton finally looked at her, his flat stare reminded her of his warning. Don’t ever deceive me. “I have to leave you.” The weight of his harsh words stung.

  “I’ll stay with her,” Chad said. “Brigit, I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

  “We’re going to need statements from everyone,” said the police officer.

  Colton checked his watch. “I have a flight to catch.”

  “Then we’ll take yours first,” said the officer.

  In the ambulance, tears pricked Brigit’s eyes. She’d never make it to the airport in time. But crying wouldn’t make anything better. Crying never solved a damn thing. Somehow, someway, she’d get to that meeting. Stopping Montgomery hinged on her being there.

  As the siren wailed, and the vehicle moved down the driveway, she closed her eyes. Will you walk into my parlour? said the Spider to the Fly. ’Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy.

  She was the fly snagged in the very web she’d weaved.

  Colton checked in and boarded with first class. Once seated, he stared out the window. Now, he could think.

  After the gunshots, his first priority had been determining whether Brigit’s wound was life-threatening. Then everything about his enigmatic Brigit Farnay fell into place.

  Brigit Farnay, his Brigit, was Eve Francesco. The realization stunned him. Initially he’d dismissed it. But the blatant truth was impossible to ignore.

  Brigit had deceived him by keeping her identity a secret from him. They’d grown close, or so he’d thought. Hell, he’d confided things he’d never told anyone. Yet she’d said nothing. Had she been playing him this entire time? And if so, why? What did she stand to gain by not telling him the truth? They were on the same side, fighting against a hostile takeover threat. The Francesco Company meant everything to them both.

  He was perplexed as to why she’d not contacted him after her parents had died. In light of her father’s dying wish, he would have found a place for her at Francesco. There was always room for someone as smart, hardworking and dedicated as Brigit Farnay.

  No, dammit, that’s not who she is. She’s Eve Francesco.

  He had questions. Fortunately, he was about to spend the rest of the day with someone who probably had answers.

  The flight attendant took his beverage order and that of the elderly woman sitting next to him then promptly returned with their drinks. Colton drained his sparkling water.

  “You got a love note,” said the elderly woman.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Turn your napkin over,” the woman whispered.

  Sure enough, there was a phone number on the other side. Colton flipped the napkin, number down, back onto the tray.

  “Not interested?”

  “No, ma’am. Would you like her number?”

  The woman laughed. “Oh no, honey. I wasn’t sure if you saw it.”

  Colton smiled.

  “Does that happen to you a lot?”

  He shrugged. “From time to time.”

  “You’re a handsome fella. Girls like that. In my day, I liked the wild ones, but my Stanley swept me off my feet and I never looked back.”

  “Where is Stanley now?”

  “He passed last year after sixty-three years of marriage. Four children, a ton of grandbabies and now I’m a great-grandma.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you, honey.” She sipped her coffee. “So, you got yourself a sweetie?”

  “I thought I’d found the one.”

  “You know how you know for sure?”

  He shook his head.

  “Here’s something I tell my young-uns when they come to their Grandmama for advice.” She gave him a little smile. “Can you imagine living your life without her? If you can, move on. If you can’t, well, then never, ever let her go. But that means you gotta stick by her, even when things get tough. You got to weather the storms together so you can bask in the sunny days.” The elderly lady winked, pulled out her knitting and got busy.

  “Thank you,” Colton murmured, then looked out the window as the plane went wheels-up.

  When they landed, Colton took the woman’s roller bag from the overhead compartment and placed it on the aisle for her.

  “Good luck, honey.”

  He tossed her a nod and exited the craft.

  After checking into his Hilton suite, Colton headed downstairs. Midweek guests moseyed in and around the busy lounge. He scanned the room for Wilson Montgomery. Good thing the slimeball wasn’t there or he’d kill the son of a bitch. Marjorie sat at a lounge table, too focused on her phone to notice him roll out the chair and ease into it. “I made it.”

  She looked up. Her pleasant expression fell away upon seeing him. “Where’s your crack wealth manager?”

  Colton was done answering everyone’s fucking questions. Time for some damn answers. “My crack wealth manager’s been delayed. Her past has caught up with her.”

  Marjorie furrowed her brow. “What does that mean?”

  “She was shot, thoug
h nothing life-threatening. Chad booked them on the last flight tonight.”

  “We’re expecting a big snow. Let’s hope they land before the runways ice over.” Then her eyes grew huge. “Did you say she was shot?”

  “Some nut job posing as a courier raved about their past, called her Eve, then shot her. Bullet grazed her arm. She was carted to the ER for stitches.”

  As the color drained from Marjorie’s face, she inhaled her beverage.

  That’s what I thought. “Hope that wasn’t vodka or you’ll be no good to me tomorrow.”

  “Club soda. I’m going to swim in the good stuff tomorrow. I don’t care what time the shareholder meeting ends. Even if it’s eleven in the effing morning, I’m having a shot of something good and strong.”

  “Brigit Farnay never added up until today.” Colton shot Marjorie a stern look.

  The server appeared. “What can I start you off with? Would you like to see our menu?”

  “Your best whiskey, neat.” He looked at Marjorie, “Would you like a refill and something to eat?”

  “Another club soda,” Marjorie said to the waiter, then looked at Colton. “I can’t eat. Shattered nerves.”

  The server left.

  “Brigit hasn’t been Brigit her entire life, has she?”

  “How would I know? I just met her—”

  “Cut the bullshit, Marjorie.” He arched a brow. “Everything hinges on teamwork.”

  Marjorie looked away. The silence hung heavy for a long moment. “Since you think you know, why ask me?”

  “To get you to tell me I’m wrong. To fill in the missing pieces. To confirm what I’ve deduced. Hell, I need some damn answers. Is she Eve Francesco?”

  She cast her gaze squarely on him. “Yes, she is.”

  “Why’d she change her identity?”

  “That I don’t know. After Brigit—Eve’s—parents were killed, she dropped out of grad school to attend the trial. Somehow the drunk driver got off, scot-free. During the trial, I tried to reach her about your interest in Francesco, but she never returned my calls or emails. She just vanished.” Marjorie swiveled to face him. “That photo on my desk—”

  “Brigit. Her artwork is plastered all over your wall. Clearly, you two were close.”

  She nodded. “I loved her like she was my own. Still do. I almost had a stroke when she waltzed into Francesco as your wealth manager. She never told me why she’d changed her identity and her looks. The past is the past for a reason, right? She was an adorable child and a pretty young woman, but she’s a raving beauty now.”

  “I’m quite aware of how attractive she is.” He shot her a hard stare. “Can we stay on track?”

  Marjorie lifted a pack of cigarettes from her handbag, removed one, and tapped it on her palm. “Ever since you took Francesco public, she’s been hoarding that stock. She’s Spider Holdings.”

  Colton’s eyes widened.

  “Uh-huh,” Marjorie said. “Our girl has the lion’s share with twenty-two percent.” Marjorie leaned close and he got a whiff of tobacco breath. “You might want to redirect that raging inferno rolling off you. She told me—and I quote—‘Wilson Montgomery cannot get his grubby hands on my company.’” Marjorie stood. “I need a smoke.”

  “Not yet. We’re not finished.”

  Her eyebrows shot up.

  He patted her chair. “Sit down.”

  She leaned her backside against the table and looked over her shoulder at him. “The Francesco Company was all that child knew. Her parents were obsessed about grooming her to run it. They taught her to analyze spreadsheets in the first grade. She was smart, but they pushed her, hard. They wanted her to excel, in everything. I loved them dearly, but they bordered on insane when it came to their daughter. They limited her playtime with her dolls. They kept playdates short and focused. She didn’t take regular piano lessons. She studied with a master and was required to practice two hours daily. Reading poetry wasn’t enough. She was expected to write it.” Marjorie shook her head. “Eve was the sweetest little girl. I felt sorry there wasn’t a sibling or even a dog to relieve some of the pressure.”

  “The man who shot her sounded like he was getting revenge.” Colton shrugged. “You think you know someone and then this shit happens.”

  “You do know her. She encouraged—no, she insisted you take the company private. She’s losing Francesco all over again. That’s gotta be killing her.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Marjorie’s jaw ticked. “Tell you what? And how would betraying her help any of us? I lost her once. Wasn’t about to push her away. You’re both fighting for the same thing. Who she was and who she is—I’m not sure that matters in light of what we’re up against.”

  His phone buzzed with an incoming text and he lifted it from his pocket.

  She grabbed her purse. “Back in five. Going to smoke myself to death, which at the moment is tempting.”

  “Are you staying here?” he asked.

  “Absolutely. With snow in the forecast, I checked in hours ago.” She took off toward the lobby.

  The text was from Chad. Brigit released from hospital. Stitched and ready to fly. Headed to Dulles. Sprouting the rumblings of a major fucking headache, Colton’s temples throbbed.

  The server delivered their drinks and Colton took a long pull of whiskey. He had enough information to get him through the meeting. There was only one person who could fill in the blanks, but first, little Miss Francesco needed to get her ass to Columbus.

  Five o’clock in the morning. Colton rang the front desk, again.

  “Yes, Mr. Mitus.”

  “Have Brigit Farnay or Chad Wright checked in?”

  “No, sir. As soon as they arrive we’ll pass along your urgent message.”

  He hung up and rolled back onto the pillow, then stared out the window at the chunky white snowflakes rapidly drifting into view. Earlier, both Brigit and Chad’s phones went straight to voicemail. Their flight had landed hours ago. Where in the godforsaken hell are they?

  He’d contacted his staff. No one had seen or heard from them since the ambulance carted Brigit away and Chad had followed after speaking with the officer.

  Colton threw back the linens and sat on the edge of the bed. His throbbing hard-on ached. Screwing just any woman—masked or unmasked—had lost its appeal. Brigit, or Eve, or whoever the hell she was, was all he thought about. She was all he wanted and she spurred his desire to be a better man. He felt different when they were together. Good different, like shit mattered.

  But right now he was pissed. He’d bared his fucking soul. Told her things he’d never shared with anyone. She’d played the caring part well. He clenched his jaw.

  That’ll teach me. Last time I relinquish any damn control.

  He steamrolled into the bathroom. Today’s goal was simple. Save Francesco from that asshole Montgomery. For starters, Brigit needed to vote her shares his way. Now that he knew who she really was, he fully expected she would.

  He turned on the shower and brushed his teeth while the water heated up. A plan started formulating. He spit into the sink, raised his head and smiled in the mirror. Eve Francesco was going to do a hell of a lot more than just vote her shares.

  50

  Defending Francesco

  Chad heaved open the ballroom door and Brigit stepped into the shareholder meeting, already in progress. Because of the impending snowstorm, the last flight to Columbus had been oversold. Refusing to give up, they’d driven to Columbus. What should have been a seven-hour trip had turned into an eleven-hour ordeal. The blinding snowstorm had slowed traffic to a crawl.

  With her arm secured in a sling, and still wearing her bloodied and ripped charcoal suit, she surveyed the large crowd. Was this a sign investors cared about the future of Francesco, or were they ready to throw their support to MobiCom? Though her arm ached, she’d made it this far and would see this through to its end, no matter what the outcome.

  Montgomery stood at the podium, l
isting reason after reason why the shareholders should vote for the merger. Monster.

  Lining the stage behind him were two long tables with Francesco executives seated on the left and MobiCom’s team to the right.

  Game faces on.

  Colton sat tall in the first seat. With his jaw set in a hard line, he was the epitome of power, confidence and determination. Pride filled her heart. It was a privilege to be part of the Mitus Team.

  She’d caught glimpses of a magical life with Colton at the gala and at Luray Caverns. Working with Colton exhilarated her. He was the most riveting man she’d ever known. Their partnership was powerful and provocative and intense. Each time they shared a bed, their explosive passion confirmed her feelings. She loved him so much her heart hurt.

  After today, she’d never see him again. Colton Mitus was too sharp to ignore the ugly truth behind her shrouded past. Had she betrayed him? He would see it that way.

  Colton peered out at the audience and she snapped back to reality. She’d known this day would come. What she wasn’t prepared for was the emptiness. When it was time for goodbye, her heart would break.

  “Francesco’s lackluster stock continues to tell the tale,” Wilson said. “Their so-called revolutionary wireless innovation—Crockett Boxes—is a pipe dream, at best.” Wilson pulled a Plexiglas box from beneath the podium and held it up. “Hey folks, it’s their wireless contraption!”

  A few in the audience chuckled and someone in the back of the room booed.

  Not funny, you idiot. She loathed Montgomery, not because he wanted a company he didn’t deserve, but because he’d inflicted a world of hurt on his son. What parent did that?

  An evil one.

  “All kidding aside, friends, MobiCom gets results. We’ve already done great things with better products, faster turnaround delivery times and stronger relationships with vendors and manufacturers. If you don’t believe me, look at the stock. Vote your shares and reap the financial rewards today. No one has a guarantee on tomorrow. Thank you.” The audience applauded as Montgomery returned to the first seat at MobiCom’s table.