Young Revelations (Young Series) (25 page)

Leo wanders into the house as I’m pouring coffee into a travel mug and takes one look at me. “I take it all still isn’t right in paradise?” he asks wryly.

“Not even close,” I mutter, screwing on the lid. “Do you know why she left so early?” I try to keep from sounding too worked up over the implications.

“She took Tyler to breakfast,” Leo tells me. “From there, she was going to take him to school, then go to the bookstore for the day.”

I nod, feeling slightly relieved that she isn’t planning on leaving me. At least not this morning. “And we’ve got someone keeping an eye on them?”

“One at the school, one in town,” Leo confirms. “They’ll let me know if she deviates from her schedule.”

“Good.” I take a gulp of my coffee. “I don’t want them interfering with whatever she’s got planned. Just make sure she doesn’t get herself into trouble. If she realizes I’m having her tailed, especially after last night, she’s going to go through the fucking roof.”

“Understood. Ready to head out?”

––––-o––––-

Unlocking the door to the bookstore, I try to focus my mind on the day ahead, but realize I’m probably setting my goals way too high since all I can really focus on is Matthew, the shattered existence that is currently our relationship, and the hurt I can’t seem to shake off when I think of our conversation. I still don’t know whether he didn’t believe solely because I don’t like Natalie or if he truly believes she can do no wrong. Until he comes to the conclusion on his own, it’s only going to drive the wedge further between us. I can’t keep beating him over the head with it, much as I want to beat him over the head, but I can’t help feeling he’s choosing her over me.

I know damn well how my words sounded to him last night. The last week has been full of reminders that he and Natalie once had a very serious relationship—between the video and her showing up in my hospital room, there is no doubt in my mind about that. To him, I probably sounded like a jealous fiancée who’s been forced to place territorial flags in order to stake my claim in him. Which, I suppose, is partly true, but I know I’m not wrong about this. I don’t know why it took me so long to make the connection, especially when she ambushed me at the hospital, but what matters is that I have made the connection. She is the woman from the boat, the one who hinted that Matthew was alive after the crash, who demanded information and the location about that stupid chip. I don’t know whether she was the mastermind behind the whole thing, but I wouldn’t be surprised to find out she was the one handing out orders to the Russians who had Tyler and me held captive. Of course I wasn’t going to recognize her before then; all I knew about her was her name and that she had a history with Matthew. I didn’t know what she looked like or what her voice sounded like, though I got the impression from Claire that she resembled me in some ways. And why should I assume that one of Matthew’s exes is going to pull something like that? That should be the very last thing I have to worry about. Honestly, from what I know of his exes, I would have assumed Lucy would have been a suspect before Natalie.

I think what hurts most about all of this is his total dismissal of my information. I didn’t come to him completely hysterical—though I certainly wasn’t far from it—and I didn’t come to him angry—which I have every right to feel. I came to him terrified that someone he considered a friend had done this to us and whether or not he intended to cut all ties with her, there was every chance
she would come into contact with him at some point. I needed him to be aware of the danger I know she poses to us—not just our relationship, but our lives.

He was almost offended that I would suggest a friend of his would do something like Natalie had. Like it was the most preposterous think he’d ever heard in his life. He’s never treated me like that. I’ve always been his equal in every way possible, even when I didn’t feel like I could possibly match up.

My decision to sleep separately from him last night and to take Tyler out to an early breakfast were both contrived to give me time to come to terms with the fact that apparently my fiancé doesn’t put much stock into what I say or think. I can barely consider looking at him without wanting to slap some sense into him. Tyler and I should be his priority, not his ex-girlfriend who’s made it clear she’s got at least a passing interest in him. I think back to the wonderful letter he wrote me and how incredible it felt knowing he’d actually sat still long enough to put his thoughts and feelings on paper for me. He’s never held back with making sure I knew how he felt, but to see it all written out like that…

Now
I have to wonder now whether he meant even a word of it or if it was all just a desperate attempt to convince me not to leave him because I believed he was cheating on me. He’s been so insistent to have me back in his life, to get us back to where we were before, but I don’t think he realizes we can never get back to that. We’ve changed too much. He’s so obsessed with recreating what we once had that he’s barely looked forward to our future together. Not that I think he’s not looking forward to what our future has to hold…

Throughout the day, my cell phone repeatedly rang with phone calls and text messages from Matthew. Eventually I silenced the ringer so I could go about my work in peace. The one time he actually called the store, Bonnie answered and told him in no uncertain terms that I was busy and he could talk to me later. I didn’t tell her about our issues last night. I didn’t need to; she’d taken one look at my face when she walked through the door and realized something wasn’t right. To my relief, she didn’t push me into giving her a detailed account; instead she gave me a quick hug, told me I could talk to her if I wanted, and we started unpacking the delivery we received that morning.

After lunch, I check my messages again, finding only one text from Matthew. My heart soars at the words I see and I hope desperately he means them and that he’s not once again trying to tell me what I want to hear to end our argument. Not that it can really be called an argument, since there was no real arguing going on. Either way, my mood improves almost immediately and I’m eager to see him so we can sort this out once and for all.

When the time comes to pick Tyler up from school, I wave goodbye to Bonnie and head out, my heart lighter than it has been since last night. I climb into my car and for some reason, my eyes drift towards what used to be East Coast Travel. It’s my understanding that everything in the building has been cleared out and taken into police evidence while they investigate whatever Frank Marone might be into. There’s visible movement through the glass windows and I wonder if someone is looking to lease the place and open another business.

Halfway to Tyler’s school, both the building and Frank are pushed right out of my mind. I’m concentrating on the plans Matthew and I made for the weekend. Nothing extravagant. Furniture shopping for the baby. Wedding planning. Just being together. And I can’t wait.

I pull into a spot at the school just as the children are exiting the building and get out so Tyler can see me when he comes out. While I wait, I look back through the text messages Matthew has sent me today, all ranging from his begging me to talk to him to reminding me that he loves me. The only one that holds any merit is the last one he sent. I can’t explain why I know he’s being truthful with his message, but I know he is.

It’s a few minutes before I look back up and see the stream of children leaving the school has thinned considerably. Tyler’s class should have been among the first out; the younger classes are always escorted out by their teachers. I look around, locating Tyler’s teacher almost immediately and head towards her. When she sees me and recognizes me, she looks at me in utter surprise and confusion and I know immediately something is terribly wrong.

––––-o––––-

The morning is an absolute blur. By lunchtime, I can’t even remember half the people I’ve spoken to. It’s more than clear this is the last place I want to be, but if I don’t come to work once in a while, I have no control over my business. And this is probably the only place in my life where I still have some semblance of control, so I need to hang onto this however long I can. But of course my mind is an hour or so away with Samantha, wondering what she’s doing, what she’s thinking, whether she’ll be home when I get there. I’ve sent her text messages, left her voicemails, even called the bookshop. Bonnie had answered and said Samantha was busy. I have no idea whether Sam told Bonnie what happened last night, but Bonnie knew enough to know Samantha is upset and it’s my fault.

While I
stare at the sandwich on my desk despite having no appetite, I try to figure out what is happening to my life. For so long I thought I had everything exactly where I wanted it, even when things weren’t perfect, and I thought I’d surrounded myself with people I could trust. In the last several months, I’ve slowly been realizing this may not actually be the case. Somebody betrayed the whereabouts of Samantha and Tyler twice, if not more—in Omaha, then later when I sent them to Claire’s. Somebody tried to kill me. Somebody kidnapped my family. Somebody edited a video of Natalie and me to make it look as though we were having an affair, then sent it to Samantha, knowing how she’d react. Whether that person knew her reaction might harm our baby, I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter at the moment. Whoever this somebody is, I know them personally. I confide in them. Or at least the person I’m confiding in has been confiding in someone else.

For the first time, probably ever, I sit back in my desk chair and run through a list of people in my life. I want to believe the best in every one of them. If not for them, I wouldn’t be what or where I am right now. But I need to be smart about this. My life, my relationship, and my family are all in jeopardy right now and I need to come to some conclusion.

As much as I hate to admit it, especially when I’ve been so freely generous with everything I have in an attempt to pay back those who’ve done so much for me, there are a lot of people in my life who may have taken advantage of that and me. For most of our friendship, I’ve carried Leo everywhere we’ve gone together. This has never bothered me. When he came home from the Marines, he was a mess. He was twitchy and saw enemies everywhere he looked, and his nightmares… I managed to convince him to get into therapy to work through his issues. He was almost immediately diagnosed with PTSD and put on antidepressants. He couldn’t be alone for months, so he moved in with me. Slowly he went back to being himself and I was comfortable with giving him a job as my head of security. Over the months, he was better than ever. When I had my house built, I had the guest house built as well and completely ignored Leo’s insistences that I didn’t need to keep carrying him. I told him simply to shut the fuck up and take the keys. He hasn’t asked me for anything. He’s always had my back.

My father is a difficult one. From the time I was a small boy to now, I’ve been trying to find a way to impress him. Someway to make him as proud of me and my accomplishments as he is of his own. Our relationship was strained when I was younger and we both knew it. Neither of us really bothered to go to any lengths to fix that. The fight we had after my high school graduation about my acceptance to Stanford and how I wasn’t going into the Navy like he wanted was epic. I honestly thought that would be the end of our relationship and he would disown me as threatened. I’ve never regretted my decision to take my own path and now knowing where it’s taken me, I can’t imagine doing things any differently. Once I’d graduated college and set my sights on my chosen field, my father started taking a bit of an interest. When I started gaining contracts from agencies others in my field would give their left arms for, he finally admitted I might have made the right choice. And when I made my first million, he was the one pouring the champagne.

His own firm that works directly with the military specifically is successful in its own right. Their projects are always classified whereas mine are a little bit of everything. A few years ago, my father was in danger of losing his contracts due to some questionable business decisions by one of his partners. I’d never seen him so stressed out and broken up about anything. One day he came to me for referrals to contracts we might have that could help save his firm. I’d barely hesitated to make the phone calls for the arrangements to be taken care of. Within six months, his firm was back on level ground. I think that’s what managed to finally bring us together as father and son. We got to know each other for the first time ever. I had his support and his approval and his respect.

I can’t say I was pleased at his reception to Samantha when I fir
st introduced them. There was never any doubt in my mind that he very much liked Lucy and would have loved to see me end up with her. I’d just put that on the list of yet another thing he wanted to control in my life. As much as I tried to get my entire family to love Samantha as I did, not all of them were willing to try. Whenever I heard my father or sisters talking down to her or talking about her behind her back, or even when she was within hearing distance, I made sure they knew how I felt about that. They didn’t understand why I was jumping to her defense rather than taking their advice and sending her back to Iowa. I stopped caring what they thought. What I didn’t think I’d ever have to deal with is my father bribing my wife to leave me while I was essentially on my death bed. That was a level of betrayal I’d never experienced. There was never a question of whether Samantha would have accepted any bribe from anybody to leave me. I don’t even have to question why she didn’t mention any of this to me: She didn’t want to strain the relationship between my father and me any further than it already was. It never mattered to her how my family treated her; at the end of the day, she was the one who kept me from writing them off and cutting ties.