Young Revelations (Young Series) (15 page)

My eyes widen in surprise at his very tentative offer. “You don’t have to do that,” I insist quickly without even thinking. “Really, I’m okay.”

He smiles slightly. “It’d be no trouble, truly,” he says. “I’m on call tonight anyway and experience tells me if I were to go home, I’d just end up returning within the hour, so I was considering just sleeping in the on-call room. It wouldn’t be a bother to spend it with you instead, if you wanted someone to talk to.”

I can’t deny his offer is incredibly tempting. A very small part of me is reminds myself that I’m engaged, carrying my fiancé’s baby, and that said fiancé is in another country. The rest of me is quick to beat that part of me into submission with the memories of what my fiancé has done, and how his mistress was just in here giving me even more images that I’ll never get out of my head. Then of course, there is the doctor/patient relationship line that might be blurred if I were to accept the offer. But if his shift is over and he’s not on-duty while he’s here… The draw of having company wins out over everything else, and I hear myself agreeing. Dr. Reilly grins widely and promises a timely return, then tells me to sleep if I need to and he’ll leave me be.

Alone again, I calmly think over the recent events of my evening. I should get a message to Claire about Natalie being her
e. Or perhaps even contact Matthew and inform him he needs to keep his girlfriend away from me, but I do neither. At least for tonight, I’ve got a friend in Dr. Reilly, and I can relax with that knowledge.

True to his word, within an hour, Dr. Reilly returns and I’m suddenly wide-awake. He’s freshly showered, his hair still wet, and dressed casually in a dark t-shirt with the faded name of a band I don’t know and jeans. I think I forget how to breathe momentarily when he smiles at me.

“You’re still awake,” he says brightly.

I can only nod in response.

“Hope you don’t mind, but I didn’t get dinner tonight…” He gestures slightly at a paper bag in his hand.

“No,” I say quickly. “Not at all.”

He sits at the small table beside my bed and unpacks his dinner, and I notice the tray of drinks he pulls out first. “I thought after the excitement this evening, you might like a bit of comfort food,” he says, looking shy. “I hope you like chocolate shakes. They’re the best in the county…”

“I love chocolate shakes,” I assure him, accepting the large
styrofoam cup and a straw. “Thank you.”

He winks again, and starts to eat his meal. Before his arrival, I wasn’t sure how awkward this would be, considering we really know nothing about each other aside from he’s a doctor and I’m a patient who needs to have visitors forcibly removed from her hospital room, but the conversation seems to flow easily. Nothing life altering, just general chitchat. He reveals his only housemate at home is a black lab named Finn. Like any proud parent, he of course has photos on
hand.

“He’s gorgeous, Dr. Reilly,” I gush, handing back the photo.

The doctor frowns slightly at me. “I’m off-duty, Samantha,” he reminds me gently. “You can call me Mark if you like.”

Oh, I do like
… I’m inwardly rolling my eyes at myself and blushing. “Then you can call me Sam,” I reply. “If you like.”

He chuckles and nods, returning
his attention to finishing his meal. “How old is your son?” he asks, sometime later, leaning back in his chair comfortably.

“He just turned six,” I say. “Though there are moments he acts much older than that.”

Mark grins. “He’s very small,” he comments, his voice on the edge of concern. I suppose as a doctor, he’s accustomed to looking at a person and noting anything that might be off about them.

“He is,” I confirm. “He was a preemie.”

“Ah,” Mark says in understanding. “How early, if you don’t mind my asking?”

I probably should mind, but I really don’t. “Three months,” I say simply. “And he’s been impatient every second since.”

He chuckles at my words, but his concern returns. “So I suppose this hospital visit has you very concerned about this pregnancy,” he says as though he’s speaking his thoughts out loud. I nod slightly. “I did see in your chart that Tyler was early, but three months isn’t something to let slide. How’s his health?”

I smile wryly. I think this just turned into a doctor’s visit. “Perfectly healthy. He had some lung development issues as a baby, but once that passed, he hasn’t had any trouble. He’s my little miracle.”

“I can see that. He’s a very handsome little boy. Looks just like you.”

And there’s the blushing again… “He looks more like his father, actually,” I amend, “but thank you.”

Mark sits up slightly in his chair, cocking his head to the side. “I hadn’t wanted to ask, and please tell me if it’s none of my business, but I’ve noticed your husband hasn’t come to visit…”

I’m sure a lot of people have noticed that. I know I have. “I’m not married,” I tell him.

His eyebrows shoot up and his gaze darts almost reflexively towards my left hand. “Oh,” he says in surprise. “My apologies, I just assumed…”

“Don’t worry about it,” I say dismissively. “We’re engaged, and no, he hasn’t been around. He’s in Germany on business right now.”

“Well, I still apologize. Claire refers to you as her sister-in-law,” he explains.

I smile and nod. “It’s a bit complicated,” I say. Though, he doesn’t seem to expect me to expand on that, I hear myself explaining anyway. “Matt and I met years ago and fell in love. We got married, had Tyler. Circumstances intervened, and we divorced. Five years later, c
ircumstances intervened again. We’re back together, engaged, and expecting our second child.”

Putting it like that, the situation seems unbelievable and almost ridiculous. But it’s the best way to describe it without getting into all the grim details.

“Wow,” Mark says, his eyebrows rising again. “He must be something special if you’re giving him a second chance.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “He is.” And now I’m sad again, recalling everything else that’s happened so recently. “We’re not really speaking at the moment. The woman you evicted earlier is an ex-girlfriend and I recently found out they’ve been seeing each other again.”

He frowns deeply at that. “I see,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “I’m sorry to hear that. Anyone who does that to the woman they love is a fool. And anyone who does that to someone like you doesn’t realize what he has.”

I look at him in surprise at the empathy behind his words. This isn’t a doctor speaking to his patient; this is one person talking to another and I’m only now realizing how much I needed an impartial party to confide in. I love Claire and I wouldn’t trade her for the world, but at the end of the day, she is Matthew’s baby sister, and she’s going to take his side, despite how much of a dick she thinks he’s being. Though I’m not sure what Mark might mean by someone like me, I have the impression I should be flattered, especially with the way he’s looking at me. That’s how Matthew looked at me when we first met, before we’d ever gone out for coffee that night. It’s an expression I couldn’t identify at the time, but one that told me he was immediately infatuated wit
h me. I never forgot about that expression, and I don’t remember the last time he looked at me in that way. Months? Years? Has he looked at me like that since we’ve been back together? I’d thought so, but now, seeing it on another man’s face, I’m second-guessing myself.

In the next moment, Mark blinks and breaks our gaze, changing the subject to inconsequential things, and eventually I begin to drift off. The last thing I see before falling asleep is the fond, sweet smile on Mark’s face, and the last thing I feel is his hand gently resting on mine. I don’t know when that happened
. I should probably shake his hand off, but I don’t think I have the strength or desire to do so.

This might be a problem.

When I open my eyes, the room is full of light, and I realize it’s morning. I glance over to my right where I last remember seeing Mark, and notice his chair is empty. For a moment, I think I might have imagined last night altogether, until I see the empty cup from the chocolate shake he brought me. At once, I’m disappointed he’s gone and that I didn’t get to see him again when I woke up, and guilty for spending the night with another man. I know it’s not the same as what happened between Matthew and Natalie, and that it probably only happened because Natalie was here last night and I was upset and he felt sorry for me. The problem is I can try and convince myself of that all day long, but deep down, I know that some kind of connection has been forged between us.

A clearing of a throat snaps me out of my thoughts, and I turn my head to find Claire sitting on my other side, her arms and legs crossed, her expression rather grim. “Morning, sunshine,” she says quietly and without her usual smile. “Sleep well?”

Knowing Claire as well as I do, I know this is a trick question. “Morning,” I repeat. “How long have you been here?”

“About an hour or so,” she tells me. “Saw your doctor.”

“Oh?”

She nods. “The two of you seemed nice and cozy,” she says evenly. “Fast asleep, him holding your hand… It was a very Kodak moment, and I almost took a p
icture because it was so cute. Then I realized what was wrong.”

I sigh heavily. “Claire, it’s not what you think.”

“Funny,” she says coldly. “That’s what Matt said to me after he saw that video.”

I flinch, immediately understanding her anger at the scene she walked in on this morning. “It really wasn’t like that,” I insist. “He dropped by after his shift because I was really upset and he offered to call you, but I didn’t want to bother y
ou in the middle of the night. So he offered to sit with me for a while. We were talking. I honestly have no recollection of him grabbing my hand, and I know it looked bad, but…” I trail off, uncertain how to continue.

“Why were you upset?” she asks, her tone softening considerably.

Regardless of knowing I need to tell her what happened, I’m hesitant to do it while she’s so irritated. But if I know her at all, there’s no chance of her dropping the subject until she gets the truth. “I woke up a few hours after you and Ty left, and Natalie was here.”
“What?” she shouts, jumping up from her chair. “What do you mean, Natalie was here? What the fuck was she doing here?”

I shake my head, shrugging. I’m still trying to figure that out. “Other than to torment me about her relationship with Matt, I honestly don’t know
,” I tell her. “We had words.  She said things I really don’t feel like discussing. I shouted, Dr. Reilly and several nurses rushed in, and she was not so gently escorted out. I was informed that she wouldn’t get back in here even if she’s breathing her last breath, and that was it.”

“Fucking bitch,” Claire spits. I nod my agreement. “It’s not enough you’re in here, and you nearly lost your baby because of what she and Matt did; now she’s got to pull this shit? She’d better fucking hope I don’t run into her again.”

I hide a smile as Claire switches from annoyed at what she saw this morning to protective mama bear in a flash of a second. And I’m glad she wasn’t here last night when Natalie showed up; she’d probably be in jail right now. “I don’t think she’ll be back,” I assure Claire. “And believe me, I’m first in line to beat the shit out of her if I ever see her again.”

“I bet you are,” she says, finally grinning and sitting down again. It takes a few moments, but I see the teasin
g glint return to her eyes. “So… You and Dr. Hottie.”

I glare at her, which only makes her laugh. “Stop it,” I say sternly.

This only antagonizes her further. “I mean, I can certainly understand the draw,” she says fairly. “And I know my brother is attractive, but the good doctor… He’s an incredibly beautiful specimen. I think I’m a little jealous.”

“I hate you so much right now,” I tell her, grinning.

“No you don’t,” she says confidently. “You fucking adore me, and you know it.” She sighs then hesitates for a moment. “Look, the only thing I’m going to say about it is I’m glad he was here for you last night, and I know you’re in a very vulnerable position right now, whether you admit it or not,” she adds as I open my mouth to protest. “But I also know you still love Matthew desperately, and you still want to see if there is a way to work this mess out. Don’t do something you’re going to regret, Samantha. Eye for an eye might sound like a good idea, but I know you. You’ll feel guilty every second until the day you die.”

“I’m not going to do anything,” I promise her. “If anything, I’ve made a friend.” I feel a jolt of guilt that tells me I’m not admitting the entire truth. It doesn’t matter. Until I figure out what’s going on between Matthew and me, I still consider myself engaged-to-be married to the man I love.

“Good,” she replies firmly, patting my hand. “I’d hate to have to disown you.” I snort a laugh. “How about some breakfast before Dr. Hot—oh, sorry, Dr.
Reilly
—comes to do his rounds?”

I let my head fall back onto my pillow as she laughs proudly at herself. She’s never going to let me live this down.

––––-o––––-

Since the discovery Marcus made about the couch in the video, I’ve been in a much better mood. Though I’m aware I still need to convince Samantha of the truth, at least now it seems possible that she’ll believe me rather than thinking the very worst of me. At this point, I’m desperately hoping I can fix our relationship; I don’t know what I’ll do otherwise. It’s only been a few days since I’ve seen her, and I can’t remember ever missing her so much. Granted, those few days have been among the longest of my life what with the video,
her admittance to the hospital, and this investigation and hearing that is keeping me away from her, but all I want right now is to be home with her and my son.

The conversation I had with Danny was promising. As I expected, he was willing to hear me out before jumping onto the Matt-is-a-cheating-bastard
bandwagon and when I was able to convince him to actually watch the video, which he apparently refused to do when Claire mentioned it to him, he picked up on the exact same things Marcus did without my prompting. He agrees that someone has done this intentionally, but pointed out the edits would probably only be obvious to those familiar with video editing. He’s also agreed to help me convince Samantha and Claire, though he was understandably reluctant.

“You have met your sister, right?” he asks me.

“Once or twice,” I confirm wryly. “And I know I’m putting you in a really bad position with your wife, Danny, and as much as I hate asking you to choose a side, I really need your help on this. You’re the only one Claire will listen to, and if she does, Sam will listen to her, and it will give me time to get home so I can do damage control.”

He sighs heavily. “I’ll do what I can,” he assures me. “Believe me, I want to help, Matt. I just don’t want to do anything to make the situation worse.”

I laugh humorlessly. “Danny, I’m not sure anyone can make this situation worse,” I tell him. “And I appreciate your help, whatever I can get. The last thing I want to do is get you in trouble with Claire.”

Once we hung up, the future of my relationship with Samantha was in the hands of my computer geek lawyer brother-in-law. But I know if anyone can get this done, it’s him. I’d also asked him what he knew about Sam’s condition. All he knew was that she seemed to be doing better and the highlight of her week was Claire taking Tyler to visit her in the hospital. That’s good news—she’s improving which also means the baby is okay.

Aside from what I’m currently dealing with, I’ve still got the weight of everything that’s happened in the last several months to face. There’s still the matter of getting the Russians who helped kidnap Samantha and Tyler to give up whoever the mastermind behind this mess might be, not to mention the still missing, still unidentified woman that was on the boat that night. Neither Samantha nor Tyler could see her well enough to identify her, and unfortunately, everyone involved is being extremely tightlipped about her identity; the only lead we’ve got going for us right now is the surveillance footage from Frank Marone’s sham of a travel agency. The night of the kidnapping, we got video evidence of Frank meeting with yet another unknown woman. If I wasn’t suspicious of Frank before watching the video, I sure as shit am now. Not only have we got him saying he was in Russia around the time of the crash, the woman was apparently hired to cover it all up. On top of that, he accepted some sort of package from the woman. I think at this point I’d probably sell half my company to find out what was in that package.

Of course, we’re still on the lookout for Frank himself. There is a very slight possibility he wasn’t involved in any of this, that it’s just one huge coincidence that he was in Russia at the same time I was, on
a completely separate matter. If that’s the case, great; I still have every intention of beating the shit out of him for setting up his office surveillance cameras in a way he was probably getting a very nice view down Samantha’s shirt on a daily basis. Not to mention, the folder he’s got in his desk stuffed with photos and information on her and Tyler that goes back years. There’s no explanation he can give to justify that sort of behavior. It makes me sick to think how close to Sam and Tyler Frank, or one of his cronies, got to them in order to get some of those photos.

Security for Samantha and Tyler has always been very high up on my list of priorities. I still haven’t told her how I assigned a team to the Omaha area to keep an eye out. And it doesn’t slip my notice that even with security in place, Frank was still able to get far too close for my comfort. My need to ensure their safety has grown to a nearly
fanatical level since the kidnapping— I’m obsessed with their safety. Right now, I’ve got men at the hospital for Samantha and more at Claire’s; for her family and Tyler. And all these guys came highly recommended by Leo for their skills in stealth operations to keep those they’re protecting, as well as anyone who might be out to harm them, from realizing they’re there at all.

Samantha and I had the security discussion years ago, and though it took me months to convince her of the necessity for
protection, she eventually understood, and never really argued with me about it. She did complain occasionally about the male guards assigned to her watching her select underwear when she’d been out shopping, but that was the extent of it. Since we’ve been reunited, she hasn’t mentioned her unhappiness once, though, I’m certain, that’s more due to the aftermath of the kidnapping rather than anything else. Not that I’d budge even an inch on the security assigned to my family right now.

Honestly, though, it doesn’t matter if I’ve got a hundred guys keeping them safe, unless I’m with them, I’m not 100% convinced they’re safe. Unfortunately, for now, I have no other choice but to entrust their safety to others. I’m not happy about it in the slightest, and I hope like hell nothing happens while I’m so far away in a foreign country.

And until my phone rings, I continue trying to convince myself that my family is just fine.

For the first time in days, I see Claire’s name popping up on my caller id, and I instantly know she’s calling because she’s spoken to Danny, and is either going to call me a bald-faced liar or tell me she believes me. I have no idea which one it might be. “Hey,” I say quietly into the phone. Currently, I’m sitting just outside the room where a dozen German and American officials are deciding my fate. “How’s it going?”

She’s quiet for a minute. “I talked to Danny,” she eventually responds.

I sigh. “I figured.”

“Matt, I’m only asking this once and if I find out later you’ve lied to me, I will personally see to it that you never see Samantha, Tyler, or your baby again. Did you buy a new couch after seeing this video to make it seem that it’s been doctored?”

It’s my turn for silence. First, it’s because I’m processing her threat, knowing she wouldn’t hesitate to follow through on it. Next, it’s because I’m trying to figure out whether she truly believes I would sink so low that I’d actually do what she’s suggesting. “No,” I say empathetically. “Jesus, Claire, what the fuck do you take me for?”

“I don’t know, Matt,” she says tiredly. I glance at my wristwatch and see that it’s approaching eleven o’clock in the evening at home. “But I know you will do anything not to lose Samantha and Tyler. Considering Samantha’s health, the last thing she needs is to be told this video is a fake, and somewhere down the line find out you’ve been lying all along. I’m looking out for her.”

“So am I,” I tell her, frustrated. “Claire, I swear on everything I hold dear that I would
never
hurt Samantha, and I would
never
cheat on her. She’s my world and as you’ve pointed out on several occasions yourself, I’ve spent the last five years wanting nothing more than to get her back into my life. I’m not about to just throw away everything, and certainly not for Natalie!”

Claire is quiet for several long moments, and I know she’s analyzing every word, every inflection, every tone, to decipher how honest I’m being. “There’s still the matter of inviting Natalie to the party. And yes, I know you and Sam were trying to work through that and she wrote you some novel-length letter forgiving you. But that was still one of the most boneheaded things you have ever done.”