Young Revelations (Young Series) (30 page)

“Samantha?” he whispers, just as I did when I started our conversation.

“Yes?” I reply, trying to keep myself from sounding as though I’m crying harder than I have in quite a long time.

He sighs shakily. “Whatever happens, whether you stay or go, I want you to know I love you more than I could ever love anybody. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I’m just so sorry to have put you through all of this and for all the things I’ve done and said to hurt you. Sorry doesn’t even seem strong enough a word to tell you what I feel. I know I have no right to ask anything of you right now, but please don’t hate me, Samantha. I know I haven’t done much lately to give you faith in me, but I could not survive you hating me.”

I don’t reply for a minute; when I try, my throat locks up and more tears spill from my eyes. Finally I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, confident that I’ll be able to get my words out. “I don’t hate you,” I tell him, my voice barely above a breath. “I could never hate you.”

Exhaling a sigh of relief, I can almost see him closing his eyes as my words sink into his mind. “Thank you,” he whispers, his words cracking. In that moment, I know he’s crying as well and I hate that I can’t go comfort him because of my own stubborn pride.

Neither of us speaks anymore and at some point I fall into a restless sleep.

––––-o––––-

Over breakfast, which Claire so kindly delivered, I spent half an hour hugging and kissing my son, grateful that he is in my arms again. To my fond exasperation, he’s much more interested in his f
ood. I sit back to let him eat, occasionally reaching over to smooth his hair or run my fingers down his cheek to confirm he’s really here. Matthew was gone when I woke; Claire told me he’s gone to talk to Marcus and an investigation team to go over details of yesterday’s events. She said he looked better this morning than he did last night, which leads me to believe he’s reverting to more mechanical actions and putting himself through the motions of being in control of everything.

As we finish breakfast, I finally get up the nerve to tell Claire what happened last night. “So I was wondering,” I begin quietly, intently focusing on cutting up my pancakes, “if it would be all right for Tyler and me to stay with you for a little while.”

Though I’m not looking at her, I can feel the surprise and confusion radiating over her. “Sure,” she replies. “Of course. You know you can stay with us whenever you need to, however long you need to.” I shoot her a brief, tight smile. “Am I to take it there won’t be a wedding next month?”

I wince, glancing down at my left hand where my engagement was sitting at this time yesterday. “At this point, no, there won’t be a wedding,” I tell her.

She sighs heavily. “Okay,” she says, sounding disappointed. “Does Matt know where you’re going?”

“I’ll tell him,” I say. “I couldn’t do it last night.”

She nods and goes back to her breakfast. As we’re finishing up, Matthew returns to the room and I take the opportunity to confirm what Claire said about him looking better than he did last night. His shoulders are squared, his eyes wide and alert, his jaw tensed. He’s gone into his defensive stature. The only time I see his expression change at all is when he lays eyes on Tyler, and I don’t miss his apparent inability to look at me right now. He sits with us for a few minutes, talking to Tyler, then finally looks at me. “Can we talk?” he asks quietly, his expression determined.

I glance over at Claire as she jumps to her feet, offering to take Tyler to the hospital cafeteria for ice cream. I can’t even find it in me to remind her he’s just had breakfast… Once they’re gone, Matthew takes the chair Tyler has previously occupied. “So I need to be heading out soon,” he ventures, looking somewhere over my shoulder. “Will you and Ty be coming home with me, or…?”

He can’t even finish the sentence. I sigh, looking at my kneecaps. “Actually I thought he and I would stay with Claire for a while,” I tell him.

Nodding, he runs a hand through his hair, but doesn’t l
ook surprised at my words. “Oh,” he says dully.

“I want you to be in Tyler’s life,” I blurt. “Whatever happens, I want you involved with our children.”

A shadow of a smile passes his face. “Thank you,” he whispers, reaching over as though he’s going to cup my cheek. My eyes flutter shut in anticipation, but at the last second, he drops his hand to his lap. I try to hide my disappointment. Sighing heavily he stands and I do the same, uncertain what we’re supposed to do now. Am I allowed to hug him? Kiss him? Tell him I love him no matter what? When it comes down to it, I do none of the above. Matthew reaches into the pocket of his jeans and I follow the movement, my breath catching when I see what he retrieves. He holds out his palm to me and I stare at the locket in his hand. “This is yours and I wanted you to have it.”
I sigh. “Matt…” I’m not even sure what I was going to say in protest as my fingers are twitching to take it from his hand.

He shakes his head. “Please don’t argue this,” he says softly. “I had it made especially for you, Samantha. I want you to have it. I don’t care if you wear it or if you toss it into the back of your sock drawer never to be seen again, but please take it.”

My eyes burning, I nod, turning around and lifting my hair for him to put the necklace around my neck. It takes him a moment to realize what I’m doing; when he does, he chuckles softly and moves forward until he’s standing close enough for me to feel the heat rolling off his body. Hesitantly, he circles his arms around my neck to clasp the necklace. When he’s finished, his fingers very softly graze my skin and I can’t hold back the shiver at his touch. I lower my hair and turn to face him just in time to see his expression slip from wistful and longing to his defensive mask. I press the locket to my chest. “Thank you,” I breathe.

He nods in response and leans in, tentatively pressing his lips to mine. In those few minutes, we kiss as though we’re saying goodbye and I barely have a grasp on my emotions. He breaks the kiss first, resting his forehead against mine. “I love you, Sam,” he whispers.

“I love you too,” I tell him.

We slowly and reluctantly back away from one another and my heart breaks a little more at the deadened look in his eyes. “Can I say goodbye to Tyler before you go?” he asks, his tone almost desperate.

“Of course,” I say, my brow furrowing. “Matt, you’re going to see him.”

He only gives me a strange, sad smile as we walk out of the room together.

––––-o––––-

There are no words to describe what I’m feeling right now. Devastation. Anger. Those are close, but don’t quite hit the mark. I wanted to believe Samantha had been reacting in the heat of the moment when she gave me back her engagement ring. I wanted to believe that when I brought Tyler back she would forgive me and tell me she didn’t mean a word of what she said. I wanted to believe I wasn’t losing her. Apparently that was too much to ask for. I don’t blame her for wanting to leave. She’s been through too much over the last few months and honestly, I’m surprised she didn’t do this before now. This has been twice that our son’s life has been in jeopardy, and we’re incredibly lucky he wasn’t permanently hurt. Next time might not work out so well and the last thing I want to do is risk a third time.

I know Samantha would never keep me from my children’s lives, but for the time being, it might be best for all of us if I stayed away. There is still far too much I don’t understand about what has been going on around me and behind my back; I don’t know how much further this shit has been going. Until I find out, Samantha should run as far from me as possible, even if it does destroy me, which I think it might once things begin to sink in.

Marcus is, thankfully, recovering. The doctors removed a bullet from his chest and there was no damage to any internal organs. He’ll be walking around with his arm in a sling for a while as his injury heals, but when I saw him this morning, he was already getting back to normal. His search for Frank Marone last night wasn’t successful. Once again, Frank has slipped through fingers. With Leo’s final warning planted firmly in my mind, I won’t be surprised if Frank makes a reappearance sooner rather than later. All I can do in the meantime is ensure my family’s safety and question Natalie. She’s in police custody in Pennsylvania, but I’ve been told I can q
uestion her under supervision. Probably a good idea at this point; I would have no qualms about taking out my frustrations on her right now.

Now, however, I have to say goodbye to my family. Claire is sitting with Tyler just inside the hospital entrance and spots us immediately as we approach. Her expression is sympathetic, though I’m not sure if it’s directed at me or Samantha, or both of us. She’s been our biggest champion to make our relationship succeed and she seems to know we’ve found something that is insurmountable to get over. Samantha stops several feet from Claire
, and Tyler and turns towards me. I wait uncertainly, wondering what’s coming next for us.

“I do love you,” she tells me quietly, “and I still want you in my life. Please don’t ever think any differently.”

I can only nod and watch as she steps up to press her lips against mine. Then she’s gone, walking over to Claire and our son, kneeling down in front of Tyler to talk to him. I keep my distance, but watch as Tyler’s little mouth frowns, and I wonder what Samantha is telling him. After a minute or two, Tyler slides off the bench beside his mother and aunt, and walks over to me. I immediately crouch down to his level.

“Hey, buddy,” I say unevenly, trying to summon a smile to put him at ease. “Listen, you and Mom are going to stay with Aunt Claire for a little while. I want you to be good, okay? Take care of your mom.”

His bottom lip begins to tremble and I know he’s figured out what’s happening. “I want to go home with you, Daddy,” he whispers.

I have to close my eyes as his eyes water
. “I know,” I rasp, looking at him again. “I know you do. And I want you to too. But you can’t right now. Your mom needs you.”

Tears begin to slide down his cheeks and I reach out to wipe them away. “You don’t want us?” he asks in a wavering tone.

My heart shatters at his words. “Tyler, no,” I tell him. “Of course I want you, but you need to be somewhere safe.”

He shakes his head hard, his hair flying in all directions. “I don’t want to go,” he responds, tears falling freely as he moves forward to put his arms around my neck. “I want to go with you.”

I hold him to me, unable to keep my tears at bay any longer. I glance up to find Claire and Samantha a few feet away, both of them crying as well. “I’ll see you as much as I can,” I promise my son, rubbing his back in comfort. “I’m not going to lose you again, Tyler. I love you.”

“Love you too, Daddy,” he mumbles into my neck.

And that’s all it takes for me to break out into full blown sobs. I drop down onto my knees, resting on my heels as I lift Tyler into my arms as best I can. He hasn’t said those words to me before and I hate that what should be a beautiful moment is marred by the situation around us.

Did it to yourself…
my brain reminds me.
If you’d been able to keep them safe, you wouldn’t be saying goodbye to them
.

I don’t know how long we sit there or how many people have had to walk around us, but eventually I pull away from the embrace, trying to gently pry his arms from around my neck. “You have to go now, Ty,” I say thickly. “Be good.”

He nods slightly, his little body heaving with sobs. I stand up and watch him return to Samantha who has her hand pressed to her mouth and tears streaming from her eyes as she watches our exchange. For a moment, I think she’s going to say something to me and I hope that something will be along the lines of her being unable to walk away. After a moment, she takes a deep breath and does just that as she takes Tyler’s hand in her own and leaves the hospital. I watch as Tyler is loaded into Claire’s car and my sister walks around to the driver’s side. I watch as Samantha hesitates before getting into the car, then looks back at me. With a tight, very forced smile, she finally gets in, and I watch the car until it disappears from my view.

The longer
I stand at the hospital entrance, the more my devastation is turning to fury. I don’t have many people deserving of my lashing out at them, but I have direct access to one of those people, and that person isn’t getting away with what they’ve done to me and my family. If I’m going to suffer, so will they. I’m actually looking forward to the travel time to Pennsylvania; it’ll give me more opportunity to plan exactly what will happen. And that will start now.

“MOMMY!”

I’m out of my bed and in the hallway before I’ve even had time to process what it was I heard. It’s not as though this is the first time I’ve been woken up in this manner over the last few days and every time is the same: Tyler yells for me, I sprint down the hallway to where he’s sleeping, throw open the door, and he’s in my arms again in thirty seconds. The reason for these middle of the night rude awakenings is that my son has been having nightmares every night since we left the hospital and Matthew. Every time, he’s almost inconsolable and he’s usually unable to tell me what he’s been dreaming about. Not that I really need him to tell me to know what is torturing him as he sleeps. It’s probably a wide variety of things—being kidnapped, seeing people being hurt and killed, being yanked away so suddenly from his father…

For the first several hours after we left Matthew standing in the hospital entrance, Tyler was a mess. He cried the entire drive home and between sobs, he told us he wanted Matthew. I had been seconds away from telling Claire to turn the car back, that I’d changed my mind. Even now I’m not sure what stopped me from doing that, aside from my stubborn pride. I haven’t heard from Matthew since—nobody has from what I understand—and that is starting to worry me. It didn’t occur to me until we were at Claire’s that when Matthew goes home, he is completely alone. Whereas he would normally have Leo to keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid, Matthew doesn’t even have that anymore. I can’t even imagine how he’s feeling right now. Angry, scared, confused, alone… I wonder if some of his anger is directed towards me, because I left him when he most needed me.

In Tyler’s bedroom, I don’t waste a moment getting to his side and scooping him up into my lap. He immediately attaches himself to me and I do what I can to comfort him, even though he probably can’t hear me through his shuddering sobs. Tyler has never had any real nightmares before. He doesn’t fear monsters in his closet or under his bed like most other children. The dark doesn’t frighten him, and I’ve never known him to wake in the middle of the night to come sleep with me because he was scared. I almost wish this was caused by something simple like the Bogeyman, something I could easily explain away. But his nightmares are very real and I desperately hope this passes soon; I hate seeing him so afraid.

As his breathing evens out, some twenty minutes after my arrival, I look up at the door to find Claire leaning against the jamb with a glass of water and give her a smile. Returning it she crosses to the bed and sits beside us, placing the water glass on the nightstand, then rubbing Tyler’s back softly. When I look down, Tyler has fallen asleep against my chest.

“Did he say anything?” Claire asks in a whisper as I slide down to get more comfortable.

I shake my head. “Nothing,” I tell her. “Not that he really needs to tell me for me to know…”

“That scenario would have given me nightmares,” Claire says. “I can’t even imagine how he’s dealing with it.”

“Me neither,” I agree, looking down at my son’s head.

Claire and I sit quietly for several minutes, until she sighs. “I talked to Matt today,” she whispers. “Well, yesterday now.”

I look over at her in surprise. “Really?” I respond breathlessly.

She nods. “It was only about a minute long conversation, but I called to make sure he was okay.”

“Is he?”

She shrugs. “All he said was he’s been busy with work and everything else.” She pauses for a moment. “Tomorrow is Leo’s funeral.”

I have no idea how to reply to that. Though I only knew Leo for a fraction of the time Matthew knew him, I never saw him as anything other than Matthew’s best and most loyal friend. He had Matthew’s back through every bad thing that’s happened. Now everyone is coming to terms with the idea that Leo was apparently double crossing Matthew for quite a long time. From what I understand, though admittedly it’s not much since I haven’t been told everything by Matthew, Leo was behind getting Tyler, Tom, and me involved in this mess to begin with. He’s the reason we were targeted. He was the one who told whoever broke into Claire’s house that night where Tyler and I were staying when nobody was supposed to know about the move. At this point, it’s hearsay and speculation, but Leo probably had a hand in the plane crash in which Matthew was supposed to die. Leo was responsible for the kidnapping of Tyler and me the night Matthew returned. He was involved in sending the video of Matthew and Natalie to me—the thought that he did this in full knowledge of my pregnancy and my history during my pregnancy with Tyler, knowing how I would react, is nauseating. Was he trying to force me to lose our baby? He was also responsible for Tyler’s kidnapping a few nights ago.

“Do you know if Matthew will be going?” I ask.

“I assume he will,” Claire says. “Whatever he became recently, Leo has always been Matt’s best friend. Matt might want to focus on the good rather than the bad and remember Leo as he was. It’s what I would want to do.”

I nod. Tyler is now fast asleep again and I move to lie him down on the bed. Claire and I stand up and leave the room, though neither of us seems overeager to return to our own beds right now. We head downstairs to the living room and sit on the couch together. “Am I doing the right thing?” I ask, staring across the room at the black television. I feel Claire turn to look at me questioningly. “Leaving Matt, I mean. Was it the right choice?”

“I can’t answer that,” she says apologetically. “No matter what I say, I’m picking sides between the two of you and I refuse to do that. I think I can understand why you made the decision you made and I know it can’t have been an easy one to make. I know this isn’t how the two of you saw things going. But unless you feel safe, maybe it’s best that you are out of that.”

Swallowing hard, I shake my head a little. “It’s not just about being safe, Claire,” I tell her quietly. “It’s not even just about him not believing me about Natalie.”

“Then what is it?”

“Nothing changes with us,” I say sadly. “Each time we’ve been together, I’ve changed every aspect of my life for him and he hasn’t done that for me. Despite everything he says to the contrary, I know he’s still angry and resentful towards me about leaving in the first place. When things are good between us, I couldn’t be happier, but the second things start declining, it’s like he’s another person altogether. I can’t live like that, wondering if he’ll ever get past what happened five years ago.”

I take a minute to compose myself, even though I know it won’t be possible right now. “He doesn’t trust me, Claire,” I tell her miserably. “He doesn’t trust my intentions or that I’m going to stay with him.”

“Did he tell you this?” she asks tentatively.

I roll my eyes. “The night before the kidnapping, just after I told him Natalie was the woman from the boat. I spent that evening avoiding him, because I was so hurt that he didn’t believe me. I hardly slept and I know he didn’t either—I remember him opening the door to the guestroom and coming in. He was sitting right next to me. I thought he was on the phone at first, then I realized he was talking to me again. I didn’t move a muscle; I just listened to what he had to say, and as hurt as I was to hear him finally admit he was having doubts about the longevity of our relationship, it was sort of a relief. He told me how afraid he is that he’s going to turn around and I’ll be gone again, and how he’s still worried about my feelings for Tom. He said Natalie was a good person and how he trusted her with his life and how she saved him from self-destruction after I left him.

“You know what he did before Tom opened his mouth at that bar?” I ask, turning to look at Claire. “He actually went to Tom and told him to convince me to marry him, whatever it took. He barely spoke to me after that and when Matt sent Tom packing, I could have so easily gone with him and we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. But when it came down to it, I stayed. After everything Tom did for Tyler and me over the last five years, I ended our relationship, because my heart belongs to Matthew and I can’t rightfully give it to anybody else. After everything we’ve gone through since that fucking plane crash, I thought we might finally have our happily ever after. I’m carrying his baby. I want to marry him more than anything. And he doesn’t trust me. Nothing I do is good enough to prove I’m not going anywhere. How am I supposed to get past that?”

Claire remains silent for a moment, letting my words sink in a little “I don’t know,” she says in a whisper. “What I do know is that Matt loves you.”

“I know he does,” I say. “Love has never been an issue between us, but it’s really coming to the point that I don’t know if that’s enough anymore. Does he really want to be with me because he loves me and can’t live without me or does he want to be with me because he thinks he should be or that he feels obligated because of the children or that he’s entitled to have me?”

“If you’re asking my opinion about that, it’s because he loves you, wants to marry you, and wants to spend his life with you and your children. I can’t claim to know what is going on in his head, Sam, but he’s a different person with you. Maybe he’s afraid of getting too close again, I really don’t know. That’s something you need to discuss with him. I get what you’re saying about being uncertain of what it is he wants. And I also get what you’re saying about how you’ve changed everything about your life for him—leaving your family behind more than once, the repeated moves either to my house to his house or to Omaha or whatever. You’re giving everything and not getting anything in return from him, and I know that’s frustrating. Just answer me this: do you want to be with him? Ignoring everything that’s happened and focusing only on your relationship, do you honestly think you and your children are better off without Matthew?”

That’s probably both the easiest and toughest question to answer. “I don’t think we’re better off without him,” I begin slowly, “and yes, I do want to be with him. But things have to change—whether it’s him or me changing, something has to give or we’re going to keep butting heads and end up hating each other. I don’t want to put my children through that, Claire.”

“I know you don’t,” she tells me. “Do you think he’s willing to change? Are
you
willing to change?”

“I am absolutely willing,” I say quickly. “But I don’t know what it is he wants me to do or who he wants me to be. As for whether he’s willing…” I shrug uncertainly. “I hope he is. I don’t want to lose him.”

Neither of us speaks any further, nor do we return to our respective beds. Instead we sit silently on the couch until sunrise, both of us lost in our thoughts that seem to revolve around my relationship and whether it will survive…

––––-o––––-

The first time I met Leopold Hoffman I was sitting in the back row of a classroom on my first day of fifth grade. My family had just moved to San Diego two weeks beforehand and though it was far from our first move, I hadn’t yet gotten around to wandering the base housing in search of other kids my age. Leo had walked in wearing tattered jeans with the knees missing, a faded black t-shirt, and shoes that looked as though someone had run them through a garbage disposal. He was quiet and brooding and though he took the desk next to mine, it was two weeks before he actually said a single word to me. We were both loners, though for far different reasons—he tried to not attract attention anywhere, home or school, for fear any attention he might attract would be from his drunk, abusive father; me because people thought me to be a skinny strange kid, and I just generally didn’t fit in anywhere.

One afternoon after school, apparently I attracted my own sort of negative attention. I still think Billy Williams was making shit up, but he claimed I stepped on his brand-new sneakers during gym class that day. Billy Williams was one of the popular boys in school and seemed to think everyone should worship him. I disagreed. And when I refused to apologize for stepping on his shoes, he tried to force me. A couple of his buddies grabbed me from behind and decided it would be amusing to make me kiss Billy’s shoes to make up for my alleged transgression. My face had been held inches from Billy’s shoe when he pulled his foot back and kicked me, breaking my nose and knocking out a front tooth. Next thing I know, I’m bleeding everywhere, but Billy and his friends aren’t crowded around me anymore. Leo had seen what happened from the school entrance and hadn’t hesitated to interfere on my behalf. I’m not sure what he did to Billy and his friends that afternoon, since I was curled up on the ground crying like a little girl and bleeding out, but they never bothered me after that day. Leo helped me up and walked me back into the school, directly to the nurse’s office. He sat with me until my mom came to pick me up. And from then on, he was my best friend.

For three years, we were practically inseparable. Most of his time was spent at my house, particularly when my mother realized how bad his own home life really was. There were weeks he wouldn’t be at school at all and when he came back, he had bruises or cut lips or black eyes. One time he was out for a week and a half straight and when I told my mom, she made a few calls and found out Leo was in the hospital with a broken arm and severe concussion. Apparently he pissed his father off and his father took his anger out on Leo. He spent holidays with us, went on vacations with us. When my father was transferred to Tokyo for his next duty station, my parents didn’t hesitate to fly him out to visit. He spent so much time with us that when his father went to prison when he was fifteen and his mom disappeared, my parents unofficially adopted him. Over the years, I considered him to be the one person in my life I could count on and trust without question.