Young Lies (Young Series Book 1) (6 page)

To my knowledge, they still don’t know who was behind the attack on Matthew five and a half years ago. At the time all they could tell me was that he’d been walking through his office building and some sort of shrapnel bomb went off. For three hours, I believed him to be dead. The news had reported it, I saw it, and immediately tried contacting every person I could think of for answers. Nobody picked up. It wasn’t until Leo showed up outside the front door looking pale, strained, and generally pissed off that I found out Matthew was alive. I’d grabbed Tyler, rushed to the hospital with Leo, and began the waiting game. The extent of Matthew’s injuries was such that it truly was a miracle he’d survived at all. He’d lost more than forty-percent of his blood, damaged several internal organs—though somehow everything that penetrated his body missed his heart and lungs—and had been having some sort of allergic reaction to one of the metals used in the bomb which caused him to reject any medication the doctors tried to give him. It was days before he was stable enough that I could even see him. And weeks before he opened his eyes again.

His recovery took months and he exceeded all doctor expectations, not that anyone who knew him expected him to do anything less than that. His shoulder took the longest; the biggest concern was internal organ damage so when the doctors realized how badly his shoulder was injured, they hardly hesitated to suggest amputating his left arm entirely. They managed to save it, of course, but I know he had moments where he wished they’d just taken it off. The shoulder itself looks as though someone tried ripped it off with their bare hands. After extensive physical therapy, Matthew finally regained use of the arm and the only evidence that remains is a horrible scar that extends down his back and chest.

When he was finally released from the hospital, we’d both realized something had changed. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t convince myself that Tyler and I were safe, and not even Matthew could
convince me we were. One night he gave me a choice—stay with him, risking another incident like the one we’d just been through, or go home to my family where I could live peacefully and without concern. I didn’t know what to think at first—was this his way of telling me he wasn’t in love with me anymore? Perhaps the accident had changed everything for him. Once he’d assured me this was not the case, nor could it ever be, he explained he couldn’t continue putting me and our son in constant danger without giving us a chance to get out before things got worse. My reaction to that was predictable: I fought him, telling him I didn’t want to be anywhere he wasn’t. He fought back asking me if I was willing to let our son be in the line of fire next time. I didn’t speak to him for two days.

At some point I came to my senses and we discussed our options, and I realized the reason he was saying these things was because he was positively terrified that Tyler or I might be hurt. It was then I decided the best thing I could do was to get Tyler somewhere safe where he could grow up without being afraid because of what his daddy does for a living. I hated myself for making the decision I made and the
night I walked out of Matthew’s home for what I believed to be the last time was the worst one I’ve ever had. Late the next evening, I arrived in Omaha on Tom’s doorstep, hardly knowing where I was or why I was there. Despite our disagreements in the past, Tom let us in without question and took care of us, nursing me back from depression.

I sit up a little and look over at Tom. Tyler is curled half on his chest, half on the bed, and they both look incredibly content. I can’t remember when I decided to let my guard down and allow Tom closer to me. It was gradual and before I knew it, we were together. And every morning that I’ve woken up beside him or in his arms, I’ve felt guilty for being unable to return the feelings he has for me.

Sighing heavily, I slip out of bed and wrap myself in a bathrobe, then head out into the suite. Everything is dark and quiet, just as I’d expect it to be at this hour, but I hear a slight shuffling out on the balcony and head out to investigate. The glass door is open and I can see Matthew sitting in a chair in the dark, his long legs propped up on a side table, his arms crossing his chest. I want to sit with him, not necessarily actually doing anything; just being in his presence would be enough right now. But he looks relaxed and his eyes are closed, so I think he might be asleep.

As I make my decision to at least cover him with a blanket before returning to bed, I hear him speak. “Are you going to just stand there staring at me all night?”

I grin at the teasing in his voice. “You never used to complain,” I respond.

“Did I say I was complaining?” he asks. “If you’re going to stare, fine, but the least you can do is come sit over here so I can stare back.”

This was one of the things I hated about Matthew at first: he so very casually flirts even during the most inappropriate times. I quickly grew to love this side of him which he always deployed when I most needed a distraction. Though I’m still tempted to return to bed with Tom, the draw of conversation with Matthew shows to be much more appealing than snoring. I sit beside him in another chair and I think he’s surprised that I stayed.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks quietly.

I shake my head, staring out over the balcony.

“Me neither,” he says. We fall into a silence that is only slightly uncomfortable due to the mile-long distance between us. “Samantha, I need to apologize again for getting the three of you so involved.” I sigh to myself. This is the last thing I want to talk about right now; there will be time enough later after I’ve managed to get a couple hours of sleep.

“How do they even know about us, Matt?” I ask tiredly, curling up on my side to look at him. He looks exhausted and afraid and sad and confused... And sexy. He never doesn’t look sexy... “I thought you’d gone to extraordinary lengths to make it seem as though you and I never even met, let alone got married and had a kid.” I can’t help the bitterness in my tone as I recall the letter I received from him two months after I left. It detailed all the ways in which he cut his ties with us, all in the name of safety. Following his measures, you’d be lucky to find our names linked together anywhere, and information of our marriage is nearly impossible to find. I don’t know how he did it, but he successfully erased me from his life.

He flinches at both my word
s and tone, and I know he’s biting back some annoyed response. “I thought so too,” he says evenly. “But unfortunately I haven’t yet developed technology that wipes memories of the people threatening us when they know us.”

“What do you mean they know us?” The implication of the words is horrifying. Does that mean it’s someone we socialized with often? Someone from within Matthew’s company?

“Nothing like what you’re thinking,” he says gently. “It’s not a friend. It’s someone we met a couple times at parties. Apparently they saw me somewhere a while back, noticed I was no longer married, and decided to figure out why. From what we understand, they’ve been digging into my past for years and have decided this is the time to exploit it.”

“What do they want?” I ask, trying not to focus too much on this detail.

He sighs and when I look at him, he seems older than thirty-two. Much older. “I’m working on a new piece of technology,” he says carefully. I know he can’t go into detail, so I just nod. “It’s something I’ve been working on for years and I’ve already got several very high bidders, even though it’s nowhere near completion yet. This other company got wind of the development and they want it. At first they tried to say this new technology was theirs, that I stole it, which I didn’t, of course, but they’re trying everything. They went from that to trying to outright steal the plans from me. At one point, they tried buying it off me and they weren’t happy when I refused to even consider the offer. Now they’re onto blackmail and unfortunately, that blackmail involves you and Tyler.”

I can’t help but wonder what he’s working on. Over the years, I’ve seen all sorts of products ranging from computer chips the size of my pinky fingernail to pieces of weapons to be sold to militaries all over the world. Matthew has a policy to only sell to those countries allied with the United States and this policy has served to piss off the others something severe. His work crosses every spectrum imaginable—home computer systems to missile targeting to radar to children’s toys. It’s because of the diversity of his development that makes him one of the top defense contractors in the world and as one of the top, he’s often targeted by other companies and organizations.

“Tom says we’re going to New York,” I eventually whisper, desperately needing a slight change of topic.

Matthew nods. “Yes.”

“Why?”

He gives me a
don’t be stupid
look. “Because I need to get back and at least this way, I know you’re safe,” he says plainly. “I can’t diffuse the trouble from here and I’ll be able to work better knowing where you are.”

Knowing we’ll be closer to him is both a relief and nerve-wracking. At a time like this, I know our best option is to be wherever Matthew is until the threat passes. On the other hand, I know being in such close proximity to my ex will cause a hundred other problems ranging from my feelings towards him to a severe increase in Tom’s grumpiness. Then of course there’s Tyler. He’s an inquisitive little boy and I won’t be able to hide the truth about Matthew from him for long. He’s seen pictures of his father, heard stories, and it’s only a matter of time before his brain connects all that information with the stranger who’s suddenly at our side almost constantly. I want them to know each other almost more than anything, but I never wanted it to happen like this, when we’re essentially running for our lives.

A hand tentatively resting on mine jolts me out of my thoughts. “You okay?” he asks.

I look up and find he’s leaned closer to me, close enough that I can faintly smell his cologne. That’s more of a comfort than anything so far. “I’m fine,” I say, unable to pull my hand from his even though I know I should. He takes the opportunity to wrap his fingers around mine and instantly I feel warmer than I have in years. “What did you say to Tom?” I blurt the question so suddenly that I didn’t even realize I was going to ask until I did.

His brow furrows, possibly in confusion over the abrupt change of subject. “Nothing special,” he says quietly, sitting back in his chair again. I notice immediately he hasn’t released my hand. “Basically that he needs to stop being such a dick when all I’m trying to do is help. That I’m doing this because I have no other choice than to interfere in your lives.”

My body seizes at his words. I know deep down he doesn’t mean it the way I think he means—that he doesn’t want to be part of our lives, but since he got us involved, he feels he needs to fix things before we all go back to our normal lives—but it’s affecting me more than I want to admit. My hand goes limp in his and I slowly remove it from his grasp, uncertain whether the shadow that crosses his face is disappointment and hurt or relief. “Well,” I hear myself saying, “once this is over, you’ll never have to hear from us again.”

Matthew immediately sits up straight, turning to face me fully. “Sam...” His tone is almost begging as he realizes how I interpreted his words. “That’s not—”

“Hey, Matt, did you---”

We both look up as Leo steps out onto the balcony. He stops and looks between us in surprise. “Oh, sorry, Sam. I didn’t realize you were awake.”

“It’s fine,” I say hastily, taking this opportunity to make my escape. “I need to get some sleep anyway.” Before either of them can stop me, I slip through the doors and practically sprint to the bedroom, desperately trying to hold back the tears.

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

As dawn approaches, I slip out of bed before Tom and Tyler wake up, and head for the bathroom for a shower. I don’t want anyone to see that I’ve spent the last several hours silently crying or that I didn’t get any sleep. It’s going to be a frighteningly long day with explanations to Tyler and tra
veling with Matthew to face without having to explain why I’m a crying mess. I came to the decision that I won’t allow Matthew to affect me, or if he does, I won’t allow him to notice. The situation is bad enough without having to face old feelings that he might not even have anymore.

He’s obligated to help us. He implied as much, even if he didn’t actually say it. His priority is and always has been his business, and everything else comes second or third or fourth...

I know this is harsh, but the only way I can maintain emotional distance from Matthew is to paint him in a selfish light, making him only slightly less the enemy than the actual people trying to harm us.

After my shower, I feel strangely refreshed and rejuvenated, and I quickly dress in jeans and a sweatshirt in anticipation of today’s travelling. There’s no doubt in my mind that we will not be flying commercially; rather we’ll be comfortably ensconced in Matthew’s private jet. I do love that jet. So many wonderful memories... At last count, I think we had sex on nearly every surface, flat or otherwise, and in every row of seating. It was a challenge for us, one we both enjoyed far more than we probably should have.

Exiting the bathroom, I see Tom isn’t in bed anymore. He’s probably gone to argue with Matthew again. Tyler, however, is still there, sitting up on the monster bed and looking around in confusion.

“Morning, baby,” I say, drawing his attention to me. Relief fills his little face at the sight of me and I move to sit beside him. “How’d you sleep?”