Young Lies (Young Series)

by Kimble, W. R.

  “I hate that you and Tyler are so deeply involved in this mess. But I will not deny how fucking incredible it is to be able to see both of you...” He trails off, his jaw locked as he stares at the wall with a furrowed brow. “Leo will be back in an hour from the airport. When he gets here, he will be taking you and Tyler to Claire’s until this blows over.”

  All the blood drains from my body at his words and the meaning of them. “What?” I whisper in horror.

  He still doesn’t look at me. “I was planning on taking the two of you there anyway. Not so soon, but the situation is forcing my hand. I can’t concentrate with you here and I need my concentration.”

  “You’re not going?” I ask.

  “No,” he says quietly. “And please, don’t argue with me. It’s better this way, Samantha, and you know it. We’re walking around each other on eggshells and it’s not fair to us or to Tyler. At least there he has kids to play with and you’ll have Claire to talk to about how much of a dick I am. When this is over, I’ll do whatever I can to make the two of you comfortable. If you want to go back to your family at the farm, I’ll arrange it. If you want to go somewhere else, so be it. But this is it for us. I can’t keep doing this to myself.”

  I can’t do a damn thing to stop the tears streaming down my cheeks and I make no move to even try. The next thing I’m aware of is being in Matthew’s arms, sobbing into his chest and he’s murmuring comforting sounds into my hair. “I’m sorry,” I stammer over and over again. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I know, baby,” he replies gently. “I know.”

  Once I’ve managed to gather myself again, I pull away and let him wipe away the tears in my eyes. He then places the sweetest, kindest, saddest little kiss on my lips before I walk away from him to pack our bags for the trip to Claire’s.

  I don’t see Matthew again and I can’t even bring myself to go look for him. Tyler is beyond confused and I can’t blame him; I’m confused as hell myself as I load him into the backseat of Leo’s car while he tosses my bags in the back. He gets into the driver’s seat and begins to once again head down the driveway. I glance up into the house at the window I know to be in Matthew’s office and I can just make out his form standing there, watching us. I raise my fingers in a pathetic attempt at a wave and I swear I see him press his own fingers to his lips, then to the glass of the window, which only makes me cry harder.

  As we leave through the gates, Leo hands me a handkerchief silently.

  8

  Growing up on a farm the way I did knowing exactly what to expect on any given day, though incredibly monotonous, had its upsides. The most appealing was the one where the only real drama I had to deal with was an escaped chicken that my siblings and I would have to chase around the land. The only heartbreak I suffered in the nineteen years I was there was the death of my mother. I didn’t get the chance to land myself in situations where I was in danger or leave in the middle of the night with little or no warning. I wasn’t worried about hurting the people who meant the absolute world to me and I didn’t have to wonder what it would be like to face life without them.

  Tonight, though, it feels as though everything is crashing down on me. Despite my intentions to go home with Tom once this mess was over to start our lives together without the ghost of my past—the one labeled Matthew Young—hanging over us constantly, I’ve driven him away for good. Well, he helped a bit by talking to people he shouldn’t have, but I’ve thoroughly destroyed any chance of us having a continued friendship let alone anything more than that. He deserves better than me, someone who can love him wholly, who isn’t constantly living in memories and daydreams, who doesn’t come with the amount of baggage I do.

  Then there’s the ghost himself. I don’t know what I expected to happen when Tom left Matthew’s house, but I think I can honestly say I never believed he’d send me away. It’s deserved; I don’t know how he found out that Tom thought he kicked us out rather than the truth of me choosing to leave, but I’ve hurt him in a way only I can. Throughout all the time I’ve known him, he tried to be as honest with me as he could whenever he could. All he ever asked from me in return was to be just as honest and to love him. For quite a while, I managed both; lately, it’s only been the latter. I should have told Tom the truth about why Matthew and I split up from the very beginning. I suppose I just hoped letting him believe Matthew ended things would hurt less in the end. I’ve never been more wrong about anything in my entire life.

  One thing I never got used to when it came to life with Matthew is the way everything can go from running smoothly to feeling as though it’s been dragged across the rockiest road in the world. My life has a way of being flipped upside down when Matthew is involved and it’s happening again. More than anything, I wish I could just talk to Matthew, try to explain the reasoning for why I did what I did; the problem is that I’m not certain I could manage to get through that conversation without breaking completely. Perhaps when all this is done and over he’ll give me the chance to speak, to make this up to him. If he doesn’t hate me, that is.

  An hour into the drive to Claire’s, my tears have dried, leaving me feeling empty. There’s no guilt, no misery, no sadness. Just emptiness. Tyler is fast asleep in the backseat and Leo is concentrating hard on the road.

  “Why is he doing this?” I ask bleakly into the dark.

  I hear Leo sigh heavily as we both stare out the front window. “He needs distance, Sam,” he says very quietly after several long moments. “He’s getting far too involved—again. He needs some time to reevaluate what’s happening and he can’t do that with you around.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I ask cluelessly.

  He shoots me a sideward glance. “It means he’s so deeply in love with you that he can barely fucking function—” He breaks off, looking into the rearview mirror at Tyler who continues to sleep soundly. “Sorry. Anyway, he can barely function and he can’t think, because he’s trying to figure out a way to fix all this and still keep you in his life. Now he’s realizing that may not be a possibility, especially after what happened with Saunders.” His hands tense briefly on the steering wheel as he debates on what to say next. “Why didn’t you just tell Saunders what really went on with you and Matt? You made him look like a monster just to give yourself a chance at being happy?”

  “That’s not what happened,” I argue, trying not to raise my voice too loudly. “You think it was easy for me to leave Matt after everything that happened with us to go back to Nebraska? Two seconds after I made that ridiculous decision, I wanted to take it back. But he’d already started closing himself off from me and I didn’t know how to change that.”

  Leo glances at me again, sympathy in his gaze. “So let me ask you this,” he says slowly. “If he had asked you to change your mind, would you have?”

  “In a heartbeat,” I say emphatically. “And that’s what sort of sealed the deal for me: he didn’t ask. All he did was make arrangements for Tyler and me to fly home. He didn’t even say goodbye before you took me to the airport, not a single word, and two weeks later, I get paperwork that says we’re divorced. Honestly, Leo, there have been times that I’ve truly believed that he used that as a reason to cut his ties with us. I mean, I know he was in love with me, and I know Ty was his life, but maybe that wasn’t enough...”

  “That wasn’t it,” Leo says grimly. I expect him to go on, but he doesn’t. We’re silent for several minutes and I look outside, realizing we’re getting closer to Claire’s. We should be pulling into the driveway within twenty minutes. “Look, I’ll talk to Matt. Clearly the two of you have a lot to discuss and clear up. He’s worried right now, Sam. Please understand that everything he’s doing is done with your and Tyler’s best interest in mind. Ask Claire; he’s spent the last five years talking about the two of you every chance he got to anyone who would listen. There’s no lack of love involved in this shit. Just trust me on that.”

  I nod silently and by the time we turn int
o the long driveway that leads to Claire’s home, I’m feeling slightly better. Of course this could be due in part by the fact that I’m seeing one of my best friends for the first time in far too long. I never considered myself the type to need the support of other women when I was having trouble personally, not even in school, but since I met Claire, that all changed. Leo pulls right up to the garage and we immediately see the tiny amber light of a cigarette on the porch.

  “I take it she was warned of our imminent arrival?” I ask wryly.

  Leo only chuckles as he shuts off the car and we both climb out to meet Claire. Of all his sisters, Claire is the one who looks and acts most like Matthew. Perhaps because she’s the youngest and latched onto him at a young age rather than chasing her sisters in their dress-up and makeup endeavors. She’s always been very no nonsense, call-it-like-she-sees-it, and doesn’t give a shit what other people think type of woman. She’s exactly what I need right now. Given that it’s nearing 10PM, she’s understandably dressed for bed in a pair of plaid pajama bottoms and big gray hooded sweatshirt, her long brown hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, and makes no apologies for looking as comfortable as she does. Since I last saw her, she seems to have acquired new glasses—blue plastic rims surround her eyes that match her brother’s perfectly.

  “About damn time,” she calls out into the dark, stabbing her cigarette out as she stands. “Another ten minutes and you two would have been sleeping on the porch.”

  I smile widely, knowing she means no such thing, and immediately move to meet her on the sidewalk, embracing her tightly.

  “Good to see you too,” she says quietly, rubbing my back as the tears arrive again. “Where’s the little one?”

  Leo removes our bags from the car and I retrieve Tyler, giving Claire a few moments to rub his back and muse about how much he looks like Matthew.

  “Hanging around?” she asks Leo once we’re all sorted.

  He shakes his head. “Gotta get back,” he says regretfully. “Sam, let me know if you need anything.”

  I nod. “Thanks, Leo,” I say quietly, waving as he pulls out of the driveway. For the first time since Matthew showed up on my doorstep only a week ago, I feel lonely, even though I know I’m anything but.

  “Hey,” Claire says gently. “Let’s get him inside,” she gestures at Tyler, “then we’ll open a bottle of wine, sit on the back porch, and talk until the sun comes up. Yeah?”

  I smile. “Yeah,” I agree in a whisper.

  We get Tyler settled in with his cousins and Claire wastes no time dragging me back through the house where we grab a bottle of wine on our way to the back deck. I note she didn’t grab glasses. Apparently this is a straight-from-the-bottle night. Works for me...

  “Start talking,” Claire tells me the moment we’re in chairs. She takes a deep swig of wine, then passes it to me. I take several long swallows before telling her everything that’s been happening—Matthew showing up on my doorstep, the threat against us due to his business dealings, the man outside the house on the night we left, every single detail of the last week and a half. By the time I finish, I look over at Claire and find her in a state I’ve never seen her: Speechless.

  “Tom proposed?” she asks incredulously.

  I roll my eyes. “Is that seriously the only thing you can concentrate on?” I ask irritably, reaching for the wine bottle again that’s now only about half full.

  “Well, no, but it’s the one I should have been informed about, but never was,” she retorts accusingly. “Why the hell wasn’t I told about this?”

  It doesn’t take much thought to come up with an answer for this question: I knew if I told her, she’d tell Matthew, regardless of any friendship loyalty towards me. That, and I think I’ve been hoping deep down that if I didn’t acknowledge it to anyone else, it might go away. And I’m pretty sure that makes me the worst person on the planet. “I’m sorry,” is the only thing I can come up with as a response.

  The accusation in her eyes gives way to understanding; much like her brother, Claire can read me like a book. She reaches over to grasp my hand tightly in her own. “It’s okay,” she says quietly. “As for the rest...” She shakes her head slowly, looking out over the railing of the deck. “I love my big brother, Sammy. I really do, but he can be such a moron at times. What really kills me about this is how he’s spent the last five fucking years pining for you and the second you’re back, he puts as much distance between the two of you as possible. And I think I get he’s doing it because of your relationship with Tom, whatever that might be right now, but to foist you off on me...”

  I raise my eyebrow, my lips twitching. “Foisted, huh?” I say evenly. “Sorry to be such an inconvenience.”

  “Oh, shut up,” she chides, shooting me a grin. “You know what I mean. And Tom. I can’t say I was ever his biggest fan, but I never thought he’d stoop so low. Do you think he did it on purpose?”

  I roll my eyes. “Tom is a lot of things, but he’s not stupid. Of course he knew what he was doing. I think he hoped that by talking to whoever he was talking to, it would make it so Matthew decided it would be better to send us back home or something. Just goes to show what little he knows about Matt.”

  Claire nods thoughtfully, and even through the dark, I can see her narrowing her eyes on me. “Why didn’t you tell Tom what really happened with you and Matty?” she asks softly.

  I feel my eyes burning, once again wishing more than anything I’d been brave enough to face the truth. “I don’t know,” I say honestly. “Part of me was afraid if I told him what really happened he might turn me away, because it would be blindingly obvious that I’m still in love with Matt. That same part didn’t want to dwell on it; I was miserable as it was and I didn’t need to add to my trouble. It was easier letting Tom believe what he did about Matt—selfish, I know, but I didn’t know another way. Not to mention until very recently Tom didn’t know what Matt does for a living and it was safer all around for him to not know.”

  “That I understand,” Claire says, nodding slowly again.

  “The worst part about it, Claire,” I say thickly, “was the look on his face when I couldn’t deny what I let Tom believe about him. He didn’t come to say goodbye to me or Ty before we left. He was so hurt, Claire, so disappointed and I feel like he hates me now.”

  As my watering eyes turn into full-blown sobs, I feel Claire moving over to sit beside me on my lounger, pulling me to her. “Enough of that,” she chides, her tone the same one she uses with her children. “Think about this rationally, love. I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but Matt is still head over heels for you. I don’t think that can ever change, no matter what you do. If he hated you, or even if he simply didn’t care about you, why would he bother getting you, Ty, and Tom to safety? And don’t give me the ‘because of his son’ line. He’s crazy about you.”

  I want to argue. I want to ask her why, if Matthew was so in love with me, he never attempted to contact me or his son. Of course, I know the answer is that he was respecting my wishes and our agreement.

  “Every single time we’ve spoken over the last five years,” Claire goes on quietly, “he’s asked about you. Wanted to know how you were, if you seemed happy, whether you might miss him. He wanted to know every little detail about Tyler. I can’t confirm this, but I got the feeling a couple years ago that he was keeping an eye on you personally—flying out to Omaha just to catch a glimpse of you. More than anything, I think, he wanted to get you back, but whenever he saw you, you seemed so content that he left you be.”

  I’m staring at Claire in shock. Matthew had been, for lack of a better word, stalking me all this time?

  She sighs. “I don’t know all the details of what happened with you two. I know enough, though, to know there is still a whole lot of residual feeling between you, not to mention a disgusting amount of unresolved sexual tension that makes me gag.” I blush at her words; she ignores me. “And you know I’m not the gushy, lovey-dovey, swooning roma
ncer, but I’ve always believed the two of you were meant for each other.”

  “Not that you’re biased being my best friend and his sister,” I mutter sarcastically.

  Shooting me a glare, she goes on. “None of us ever thought Matt would settle down, tie himself to one person, and have a family. He just wasn’t that guy. But the second he met you, that changed and we all noticed. He was calmer, he slowed down for the first time in his life, and he had this look in his eyes whenever he talked about you. I don’t even know how to describe that look, Sammy. It was the same look you had in your eyes whenever you looked at or talked to him. The two of you seemed to make the other complete and the minute you broke up...”

  “Thought you weren’t all gushy and lovey-dovey?” I ask, trying not to focus too much on her words, lest I break out in another round of sobs.

  “All I’m saying is you two need each other, whether you’ll admit it or not. And I know this whole thing sucks right now, but maybe it’s happening for a reason and this is meant to bring you back together.”