Young Lies (Young Series Book 1) (26 page)

I’ve been sitting in this shitty motel room for days, my eyes glued to the television and the coverage of the plane crash. I honestly hadn’t believed this would actually work or that anyone would believe I had been there. My picture is everywhere I look—American television, the local news—and all I can think about is how my family is reacting to all of this. I know this is hurting them, but considering the turn things have taken, I didn’t see any other option. More often than not, my thoughts are focused on Samantha and Tyler. I hate the thought of her in pain, and the thought that she’s probably crying herself to sleep at night, if she’s sleeping at all, positively wrecks me.

My phone is sitting on the bedside table, the battery beside it, and the number of times I’ve woken in the middle of the night with the desperate urge to call her is in the hundreds. But I can’t call her. I can’t contact her. At least not yet. Not until I know what the fuck is going on. All of the electronics I own are unplugged, their own batteries removed—laptop, tablet, even my electric shaver. I can’t risk being tracked right now and any of those things could be used in that manner.

I’m on constant alert. Every time a shadow walks past the window of my room, I’m braced for a fight. A couple times I’ve actually found myself standing beside the door, the pistol I picked up in my hand, waiting for an entry attempt. No one knows I’m here aside from the motel owner, and with the stack of cash I slipped him, he’s not telling a soul.

How the fuck did it get this far? These were people I trusted with my life and the lives of my family. I’m still trying to zero in on a single suspect, and I really don’t like the direction in which the evidence is leading me.

I want this over with. I want to go home, hold Samantha and Tyler, take them home with me where they belong, and never let them go again. When my mind starts to relax against the dangers surrounding me, they return to the night I spent with Sam. Nothing has ever felt more right than it had that night. Her in my arms, reacting to every single touch. Now
that
was surreal. I never thought I’d have that again and I will never be able to properly explain to her what it meant to me. I was reminded that night of the incredible connection that had been between us when we first met, the draw that kept me wanting,
needing
more from her. I haven’t had that connection with anyone before or since Samantha, no matter how much I tried.

Natalie was damn close. Theoretically, she was as perfect for me as Samantha, and I did love her, but when I woke up one morning and looked beside me to where she was sleeping so beautifully and peacefully, my thoughts turned to Sam, and I realized I would always be comparing the two of them. Worse than that, Natalie could never completely fill the hole that was left in me when Samantha left and I knew right then I had to end things; it wouldn’t have been fair to either of us if I hadn’t. Much to my surprise, Natalie was very understanding about the whole thing. She’d said she’d known for a while I wasn’t completely committed to the relationship and admitted she’d been willing to ignore that in order to be with me. I broke her heart that day and I only felt a modicum of guilt over it. We’re still friends. We talk occasionally and we’ve managed to maintain a professional relationship.

After Natalie, there was a string of women in and out of my life. None of them stayed long, a month or so, before I cut them from my life. They were with me for one purpose—for them, I showered them with money and gifts; for me, it was all about sexual gratification. Before Samantha, I’d had a slight reputation as a ladies’ man that I tried to ignore. I never had a girlfriend for long and there was never any real emotional attachment, at least not on my part. I think a lot of that was sparked by what Lucy did to me. My blood still boils at the thought of finding her in bed with that douchebag. The only thing that kept me from beating the shit out of him and landing myself in jail was Leo. He’d been home on leave that weekend and had dragged me out of that apartment by my neck. My family was upset over my breakup with Lucy—Mom and Claire because she’d ripped my heart out and stomped all over it; Dad, Holly, and Liz because they’d positively adored her and thought it was a huge mistake for me not to forgive her transgression of cheating on me.

Where I was constantly comparing Natalie to Samantha, those three were constantly comparing Samantha to Lucy, and I know they never really liked her. I didn’t care. The only thing that mattered to me was Sam, her happiness, and the fact that she saw through all my faults and loved me as much as I loved her.
Love
her.

The day I showed up outside Tom’s house in Omaha, the day I had to involve Sam in all this trouble, was one of the most nerve-wracking days I’ve ever experienced. All throughout the decision-making process, I repeatedly reminded myself that I’d promised her to stay out of her life. She wanted the chance to raise our son without the concern of professional threats constantly popping up. Since I would have done anything to make her feel safe and comfortable, I went along with it. It had to be her decision, without any of my influence. Of course I wanted her to stay. Of course I hated myself for letting her walk away. But it was in the best interest of both her and my son for her to do so and I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if something had happened to them. I convinced myself it was better that way and did my best to keep my distance. The few times I flew to Omaha just to watch her for a few hours... I wanted to do something so she realized I was there, but I refrained. She seemed happy enough. She and Tyler were safe.

Seeing her that day when she opened the door, so many emotions running through the both of us, my instinct was to push into the house, press her against the nearest wall, and lose myself in her. Again, I refrained. She knew on first sight why I was there—it was plain in her eyes—and I wanted to postpone the moment when I confirmed her worst thoughts as long as possible. She was as beautiful as I’d remembered, though she was thinner and had a permanent look of sadness in her eyes. Granted, this was about how she looked when I first set eyes on her, but it seemed worse, especially knowing the sadness was caused by the same thing that caused me countless sleepless nights. It was that moment I knew she and I needed each other far more than what I originally believed. We needed each other if we were to have any chance at happiness.

Entering Tom’s house didn’t exactly improve my mood. It was a nice place, but not where Sam and Ty belonged. Clearly he did everything he could to take care of them and that was a good thing, but it was my job to take care of them. Not his. And the photos on the wall. Seeing my son grow from the gorgeous, happy baby to a toddler and beyond was nearly overwhelming. In every photo, he was smiling widely, his arms wrapped around his mother’s neck when they shared the frame, and he was my clone. I could open any one of my mother’s photo albums from when I was a child and see Tyler looking back at me. I knew nothing of this little boy, the one that was always on the small side and remained so now. I wasn’t there for his first word, the first time he walked, his first tooth. I didn’t teach him to ride a bike or play catch. I never had the chance to read him a bedtime story.

The night she called to tell me someone was outside her house, I very nearly became unhinged. I knew how very close the threat was getting to them, but I didn’t realize they’d worked out where to find Samantha and Tyler. And I was far enough away from them that if we hadn’t acted as quickly as we had, they could have been abducted or hurt, all because of a tiny fucking chip my company developed. I needed my family in my sights and there was no hesitation to give the order to bring them, and Saunders, to my hotel. There was even less hesitation to bring them back to New York with me.

And then there was everything that happened while they were in my home. The kiss between me and Sam in my office that brought me back to life. The need to separate myself from her before we did something she would regret in the morning. Coming home in the middle of the night only to leave again after hearing the unmistakable sounds of sex in the guest bedroom where Sam and Saunders were sleeping. My first instinct had been to rush in there, yank the bastard off of her, beat the shit out of him, then show her how a man is supposed to pleasure a woman. I refrained and left again. When I’d eventually returned home hours later, I stood outside the bedroom with no idea what I was doing there. I talked myself into returning to my own bedroom and tried to rid my brain of what I’d heard a few hours before.

Then after what Saunders pulled and how I felt there was no other choice than to send Sam and Tyler to my sister’s. I believed they were safe there and they were until the night Claire’s house was broken into. I’d never made that trip so quickly and my ears are still ringing from Claire’s chewing out. There hadn’t been a single point she’d been wrong about: I shouldn’t have sent Samantha away the way I did, no matter what she told Tom Saunders about me. I should have been around to protect my family. I shouldn’t have brought them into this again. And what the fuck was I thinking when I let her leave in the first place.

During the hour or so that I spent sitting at Sam’s bedside, watching her sleep, I realized just how much I’d lost when she and Tyler left. She was my addiction, one I never saw myself giving up, and in one evening, she was gone and took our son with her. I spent weeks fighting the urge to go to her and beg her to come back. I refused to speak to my father and older sisters, because all they did was cut her down, telling me she wasn’t good enough for me, and that I should seek full custody of Tyler. That was never an option for me. A boy belonged with his mother. I could function without them—barely—and they were the ones who needed support. Besides, Samantha would have never forgiven me if I’d done something as foolish as try to take Tyler away from her.

I realized how fed up I was with how I was living my empty shell of a life. Nothing held any real importance to me and I wanted meaning to my life again. It was then I decided that whatever it took, I would fight to get my family back. I would convince Samantha to give me another chance and this time I wouldn’t let anything come between us. Hell, I’d take a backseat in my company to alleviate some of the danger if that’s what it took.

I finally admitted the truth that night, both to her and to myself. I told her what she means to me, what she’s always meant to me, and that I want a life with her. I made love to her and she to me, and I’ve fallen asleep every night since remembering how she held me against her, moved with me, the sounds she made.

Goddamn. How much longer am I going to sit here away from the woman who means most to me? All it’s doing right now is hurting her. Hurting me. According to the latest news reports my “funeral” is in two days. And I damn well plan on being there, even if I’m the only one who knows it.

I feel like a dick doing this, pushing my way through shrubbery and trees wearing jeans, a hooded sweatshirt, and sunglasses, and arriving at the edge of the trees exactly where I’d hoped I would. A crowd is already gathering, all of them dressed in black and somber expressions on their faces. Facing a dozen rows of chairs are several displays of flowers and in the center is a large photo of yours truly. I wonder vaguely who chose it; not really one of my best, but I’m in a suit and tie and I think I recognize it as one taken after a business meeting a year or so ago. There aren’t a lot of photos of me dressed like that and whoever chose it probably had to sift through piles of others just to find it.

Shaking my head and wondering if my family knows me at all—I’m leaning towards not, if they think me in a suit and tie is how I want people to say goodbye to me—I scan the crowd of people already arrived. Samantha isn’t here yet, but then neither is Claire. I don’t know why I’m doing this; even for me it’s a bit dramatic. But in order to get the answers I need, I have to see the reactions of the people closest to me. It’s all very Tom Sawyer, watching my own funeral, and with slightly different circumstances, this might even be fun. As it is, I’m watching my parents, sisters, and their husbands arrive and walk across the lawn, and I’ve never been less amused in my life. My mother has tears streaming down her face and is sandwiched between my father and Claire. Though I’m still quite a ways away from them, I think my dad might also be crying. I’ve never seen him cry and it breaks my heart that he’s doing it now because of a lie.

Still I don’t see Samantha and I start to wonder if she’s going to show up. I can’t imagine her not attending my funeral, no matter how difficult it must be for her to even consider it. The hairs on my arm stand as my partners in the company and security team arrive, Leo in the lead. I scan all their faces, searching for a hint of anything suspicious. Leo is taking this as hard as my family and of all the people I’m hurting with this, he’s the one I’m most worried about. When it comes down to it, I’m all he has, even though I know my family wouldn’t leave him on his own after everything he’s been through. He doesn’t have family of his own. His mother died when he was eight and his father is in prison somewhere. The fact that our paths crossed at all was nothing less than fate. I truly believe that.

Within minutes, every seat is full and I’m slightly surprised by the turnout. I don’t have a lot of close friends, and most of the people I’ve dealt with professionally didn’t seem as though they’d waste their time spitting on my grave, let alone attending my funeral. I imagine the vast majority of the people here are here for appearances sake. Bastards.

The main event begins and I watch as several people stand beside my picture talking about how great a person I was, how smart I was, how impressive it was that I achieved so much at such a young age. None of those people really know me. They don’t know what was really important to me. Claire speaks, as does my father, and I’m feeling choked up myself at their words. My dad is actually proud of me, despite a lot of the decisions I’ve made that he didn’t approve of at the time. Claire tells stories from our childhood about the pranks we used to pull on each other and she actually gets several laughs.

There’s still no sign of Samantha. I’m desperate to know where she is. Why isn’t she here with Claire and Leo? Has something happened to her? Is she just so heartbroken that she couldn’t face all of this?

At the end of the service, I prepare to make my escape, but something keeps me rooted on the spot. Leo lingers at my photo and changing my vantage point slightly, I see there’s a small plaque in the ground, and I wonder what it says. An expression I can’t quite identify passes his face before he turns away and joins my family leaving the grounds.

Again, for some reason I can’t define, my body is telling me to stay exactly where I am and this suddenly seems to have been a very bad idea. All I’ve accomplished is watching my family’s heart breaking and a bunch of ass-kissing douchebags pretending to mourn my loss. My death will have made a lot of people very rich and the contracts my company has in their possession will be sold off to the highest bidder. That’s how this business works. You get one day to be remembered, then your entire legacy blows away in the wind like you never existed. I’ve seen it happen. And despite knowing none of this is real, that it’s all for show, it’s not going to stop the vultures from trying to take over.

All my thoughts come to a sudden and complete halt when I see a familiar shape crossing the grass. My heart leaps at the first sight of Samantha in days. She’s wearing a black dress and—I smile slightly—my jacket. Reaching my photo and the plaque, she glances over her shoulder nervously as though she’s worried about being followed or watched. Well, she is being watched, but her gaze is in the wrong direction. Every muscle in my body tenses, wanting to burst out of the trees and run towards her, and wipe away the tears that I know are streaming down her face. It takes a herculean effort, but I manage to stay where I am.

In a lucky break, the wind changes direction as she begins to speak.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” I hear faintly. “You were supposed to come back and we were supposed to talk and decide what we wanted from each other. I was supposed to tell you you’re everything I’ve ever wanted and everything I’ll ever want from here on out. You were supposed to tell me the same, then we were supposed to fall into bed and not surface for two days. It was supposed to be every single romantic cliché from beginning to end.” Her breath catches and I hate knowing she’s hurting. “You fucked that up, though, didn’t you? Because you’re too
Goddamn stubborn to just let something go. Because everything has to be done on your terms or not at all.”

I move out of the trees slightly, needing to be closer to her without revealing myself. Glancing all around, it seems the cemetery grounds have been abandoned completely, so I head out and take cover behind a shrub. From here, I can clearly see the stress and exhaustion on her face, the bloodshot eyes, the
stains of tear streaks down her cheeks. I take back what I said about how I most regret hurting Leo in all this; seeing Samantha in this state... I deserve to die in a fiery crash.

She takes a shaky sigh and sits on the grass, wrapping my jacket more tightly around her as though she wishes my arms would take its place.
Me too, baby...

“You know, when I first met you, I hated you with every fiber of my being,” she says quietly. I chuckle to myself; that much had been obvious. She smiles, shaking her head in memory. “You were arrogant and pretentious and entitled, and you seemed to think you could get whatever you wanted. And I had no idea how you could have possibly been interested in me when there were droves of women all over the world that wanted you and were probably more right for you.”

I scowl at her words. Nobody has ever been more right for me than Samantha Everett.

“You and Leo with your flashy sports car and expensive clothes and smug attitudes. I probably should have gotten you with the pepper spray that first night.” We share a chuckle and I watch as her smile slips from her face. “You were such a distraction to me after I met you. Everything I did, no matter who I was with, my thoughts drifted towards you. The day you came back to the diner... Part of me was pissed off and annoyed that you were so full of yourself that you thought I would just fall for you. Then I really was pissed off and annoyed when it actually worked,” she grumbles, wiping at her face. “I fell for you so hard so fast. You changed my entire world, Matt. You encouraged me to do things I’d given up on, like going to college and seeing the world. And the night you proposed...” Her breath comes out in a rush along with renewed tears, even though she’s still smiling. “I’d never been happier at that point. Our wedding. Finding out I was pregnant with Tyler and how incredibly happy you were despite all our discussions to wait a few years until I finished school and work calmed down for you.

“And you were such an incredible father. All the nights he kept us awake and you went and took care of him, knowing you had a full day of work ahead of you. I imagined us having this entire little army of kids, boys and girls, and I’d never imagined that sort of thing before you. I don’t want it with anyone else.

“Claire told me Tyler knows you’re his father. I should have told him myself and I’m so sorry I didn’t. I’ll never forgive myself
for that. He should have known who you were from the moment you met. But I will tell him everything. I will never forget you and everything you did for me, Matt. And I will always cherish our last night together. It was supposed to be a new beginning for us. And I suppose I’ll be living with the
supposed to have beens
for a while.”

After another deep, shuddering breath, she stands in preparation to leave. The last thing I want is to watch her leave me again, but there’s no other option. At least not yet. She turns to the photo of me, shaking her head. “I probably should have been around to veto that,” she says wryly. “One of you lounging around on the couch would have been better.” Regardless she touches the photo as though it’s actually me standing in front of her. “I love you, Matthew. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that before you left. I hope you knew.”

I nod at her. “I do know, Sam,” I whisper, watching her retreat from me. “And I love you too. I’ll see you soon.” As soon as she disappears from my view, I head towards the back of the cemetery and hop the fence to get to my car. Before I return to my life, I have some very important business to take care of.

-------------o-------------

Sitting on one of the two full-size beds in this motel room, watching something on the cartoon channel that has less than no plot, but has captured Tyler’s attention completely, I’m barely aware of my surroundings. The decision to attend Matthew’s memorial had been spur of the moment. Not that I hadn’t wanted to go; just I hadn’t wanted to face Matthew’s family after the way I took off the other night. I couldn’t stay in Claire’s house, not knowing what everyone thought of me. Claire may have fiercely defended me, but that won’t change their opinions of my being a poor, small town, manipulating, gold-digging bitch who broke their brother’s heart and took his son away from him.

I stood on the edge of the cemetery grounds and kept my distance, watching the proceedings closely. I wanted to be with Claire and Leo, but I was terrified that Matthew’s sisters or father might start something and take the focus on the reason for us being there in the first place. Matthew deserved to at
least have his memorial service be drama-free.

I’d waited until everyone had left before making my approach. The photo that had been chosen wouldn’t have been my first choice and I know if Matthew had been there, he would have groaned at the sight of it. At first I didn’t know what to say, only that I had to say something, so I did what I’d done whenever I visited my mother’s grave. I sat down and started talking, not bothering to filter my thoughts. I told him things I should have been saying to him since we were first reunited. Much to my surprise, it turned out to be incredibly therapeutic.

After getting out all my tears, bitterness, regret, and sadness, I returned to the motel where my sister Lily was with Tyler. She’d been out here visiting a friend I never knew existed and called me while I was still debating whether to attend the memorial. I’d told her what happened, that Matthew had died and that I had no one to watch Tyler long enough for me to go pay my final respects. Within an hour she was knocking on the door and I had a babysitter. I never could have gone otherwise; there was no way I was subjecting Tyler to that. He is still trying to wrap his mind around the idea of death as a finality to life and that he’d never see Matthew again. I finally came clean about Matthew being his father, which of course he already knew, but I think it helped both of us a little to hear it out loud and in the open.

Tyler may only be six years old, but he’s much more aware of his surroundings than any little boy should ever be, and I’ve made it my goal to make sure he knows how much Matthew loved him, even if Matthew didn’t know him. And the fact that Tyler is still wearing that broken toy wristwatch tells me he understands much more than I want him to.

Every time I look at that damn thing I want to take it from him, throw it against the wall, and stomp on it until it’s in pieces and unrecognizable to anybody. After that phone call I got from Leo the day before the plane crash and the conversation we had in Claire’s kitchen, I know exactly why my son’s watch is broken. Part of me is pissed off at Matthew to the point of his actions being unforgivable while another part me knows his decision to do what he did couldn’t have been easy and I have to grudgingly admit it was a brilliant move. Because really, who would suspect something so important to be hidden in a child’s toy?

Still, if Matthew were here, I’d probably slap him for doing what he did, for putting our son in such danger.

As for what Tyler and I are going to do when we leave this motel, I’ve yet to decide. Tom sent me a text message this morning telling me that he heard about Matthew and he was sorry, and if I needed a place to stay until I figured out my next move, he had a couple guest bedrooms that were empty. I haven’t replied, though I don’t think he expected me to, and I know it wasn’t his intention to make me feel guilty, but I do. Even after hurting him the way I did by admitting I could never love him the way I loved Matthew, he’s still willing to help me when I need it. Not that I believe I could ever face him again.