Young Revelations (Young Series)

by Kimble, W. R.

  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.”

  “I know,” I say. “I have no excuse. Claire. I honestly didn’t believe there would be an issue. I didn’t know Samantha even knew about Natalie—not that it makes a difference. Natalie and I truly are only friends and business associates now, but I will end every aspect of our relationship if it makes Samantha uncomfortable in any way. I love her, Claire, and I will do whatever it takes to make her believe me.”

  “Okay.”

  I blink a few times, wondering if that’s her only response to what I just said. “Okay?” I repeat tentatively. “What do you mean, okay?”r />
  “I mean, okay,” she says simply. “I believe you. And I’ll see what I can do to convince Samantha.”

  I laugh shortly in relief and gratitude. “You do?” I check.

  “Yeah,” she says with a sigh. “I’ve always known Samantha means a lot to you, and I never wanted to believe you’d be capable of something like that.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper, feelingly, as a huge weight is lifted from my shoulders. “How’s Samantha?”

  “Doing better,” Claire says gently. “And the baby is perfectly healthy, thankfully. She’ll probably have to stay in the hospital a few more days until everything settles. It seems whenever she starts evening out, some other factor pops up.”

  I’m on high alert. “What factor?” I ask sharply. “Did something happen?”

  “You could say that,” Claire replies wearily. “She woke up in the middle of the night, and Natalie was in her room.”

  Jumping to my feet, I am beyond livid. “What!” I demand loudly. Vaguely, I see Marcus at the end of the hallway looking at me, startled. “What the fuck was she doing there?”

  “Oddly enough, that was my response as well,” she responds dully. “Sam wouldn’t tell me what she said to her, but I do know she raised enough hell that the doctors and nurses ran in, and Natalie won’t be returning.”

  I cannot imagine why Natalie would visit Samantha in the hospital. They’ve never met, they’re not friends. And in the middle of the night… I suddenly wonder where her security detail had been while this was going on. It seems I’m going to have to fire another round of employees. “But Samantha is okay?” I check desperately.

  “She’s fine,” Claire assures me. “If there were any adverse affects, they were very brief and very minor. When I showed up the next morning, I had no idea anything had even happened…” I don’t miss her words trailing off and I know there’s more.

  “What else aren’t you telling me?”

  Claire sighs deeply. “Nothing,” she says quietly. I know damn well she’s lying to me. “Just hurry the fuck up doing whatever you need to do in Germany, and get back here, Matthew. All I’m going to say is if you’re not back soon, you might lose her.”

  Lose her? What the fuck does that mean? “I’d really appreciate it if you could expand on that, Claire,” I say, my patience straining. “What’s going on with Samantha?”

  “Just fix it, Matt,” Claire says. “Look, it’s late, and I really need to get some sleep. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  Despite demanding more information, Claire doesn’t give me anything more before hanging up. “Fuck,” I hiss, shutting off my phone in time for Marcus to reach me. “I don’t care what it takes; I want this shit dealt with. I need to get home to my family. If they want money, it’s theirs. I can’t stay here anymore.”

  With only that to go on, Marcus nods. “Okay,” he tells me. “I’ll take care of it.”

  ––––-o––––-

  In the days following my late night visit from Natalie, I’m finding myself becoming closer with Dr. Mark Reilly. Neither of us has mentioned that night or falling asleep holding hands, or even Claire walking in the next morning. I thought the next time I saw him would be very awkward, and we’d both say it was a mistake that should never be repeated, and maintain only a doctor/patient relationship and nothing more. But when I next saw him, he had a smile on his face I know he doesn’t wear in front of his other patients, and he seemed anything but awkward. I took cues from him, and though I knew I should have kept him at arm’s length, I found myself looking forward to his rounds and his lunch breaks and the hour or so after his shift ended.

  Every time he leaves, though, I feel guilty, especially when I glance down at the ring on my left hand. Having not spoken to Matthew once since the day he left, I have no idea what, if anything, might be salvaged of our relationship. And then there are the moments when I wonder if, should I find something salvageable, would I want to save it? I do love Matthew and I probably always will, but no matter what we do, something always comes between us, whether it’s threats against our family or an ex-girlfriend. True, it took three years for us to split up last time; maybe this time the time has just come sooner. Knowing he’s cheated on me only solidifies these thoughts. I’ve known people whose significant other had cheated. Some of them ended things the moment they found out; some of them stuck around and tried to work through the problems. I always wondered on which side I might land if that were to happen to me. I always believed myself to be strong enough that I wouldn’t have to rely on anyone else for my happiness. It’s not difficult to come to the conclusion that all changed when I met Matthew. But that was when I never believed he was capable of hurting me like this.

  If I end things with Matthew, then what happens? Do I start seeing Mark only to find out whatever might be between us is fleeting? That would leave me worse off than before—a single mother with two young children. Yeah, that’s a great idea…

  Claire’s no help. If I didn’t know any better, she’s encouraging interaction between Mark and me. Of course, when I ask her about it, she denies any such thing, but any time Mark is in the room, she talks me up as though she’s trying play matchmaker. Mark’s noticed, I’m sure; his darting glances at me are enough to know that. I really think that if I wasn’t engaged to her brother, she’d be encouraging me to see him in a more casual, intimate setting.

  I haven’t actually seen Claire for a couple of days now. The twins came down with some sort of cold and she’s had to stay home with them. The morning she called to tell me she wouldn’t be visiting also happened to be the morning Mark didn’t come to check on me. I’d assumed it was just his day off and I inwardly slapped myself for being so disappointed, but around lunchtime, the doctor taking over his rounds mentioned him to one of the nurses. With a couple questions, I found out he’s handed my care off to one of his colleagues. It’s ridiculous to feel this way, but I’m hurt that not only did he pretty much dump me, he didn’t even have the decency to duck his head in and tell me myself.

  By dinnertime, I’m feeling pretty miserable despite Bonnie popping in to check on me. She isn’t aware of Matthew’s infidelity, and I don’t bring her further into the loop. In fact, almost the moment she enters my room, I can tell something is seriously wrong with her. Matthew and I both suspected she was downplaying her illness that was taking her away from the bookstore, and having not seen her in nearly a week, I realize we were right. Of course she still won’t tell me what’s wrong. She doesn’t want to worry me. She quickly changes the subject to Tyler, and the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday and wedding plans. I don’t tell her that there might not be a wedding. I don’t want to worry her either.

  After she’s left, I’m only alone for about ten minutes before my door opens again, and I can barely hide my shock to find Mark entering, his trademark smile on his face, a large brown bag in one hand, and a drink tray with styrofoam cups that I suspect contain milkshakes. “Hi,” he says quietly. “Have you eaten?”

  I shake my head dumbly as he approaches. Didn’t he dump me as his patient? Has he come to break me even further? And why am I reacting like this?

  “I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re no longer my patient,” he begins, arranging the milkshakes and containers of food on a table before walking over to me. To my surprise, he holds out his hand to me. To my further surprise, I see my hand take his. As his fingers close around mine, I feel a shiver shoot through my body that stalls my breath momentarily. My eyes dart up in time to see him swallow hard and his eyes darken. He carefully leads me across the room to the table where our dinner is arranged, and helps me sit. I’m suddenly very pleased Claire brought me a bag of my pajamas so I’m not left wearing a hospital gown. Mark sits down across from me, and for a moment, we just look at each other while he seems to gather his words.

  “I’d planned on coming by this morning,” he says softly, clasping his hands on top of the table, “before you saw Dr. Marsh so I could explain properly
, but unfortunately, there was an emergency that kept me busy most of the day.”

  “Oh,” I say lamely. His expression can only be described as deeply apologetic and I truly don’t know what to say in response. “So why did you hand me off to another doctor?”

  Sighing, he leans back in his chair and just watches me for a moment. “Because I decided being your doctor would be a conflict of interest.”

  Oh shit. I want to sink into the floor and disappear, because part of me expected that to be his reason and I don’t need to think too hard to figure out the rest. “And why is that?” I hear myself asking.

  He rolls his eyes slightly, smiling. “You know why,” he chides gently. “I’ve been a doctor for nearly ten years, Samantha, and I’ve never had a patient that has caught my attention the way you have, nor have I let a patient get into my head the way you have. You know as well as I do that there is a connection of some sort between us, whether it be platonic or…” He trails off, shaking his head and shrugging. “Or something more. Considering what I know about you, it would not be wise for me to remain your doctor. I don’t want to put you in a difficult position, especially knowing your current condition medically, so please tell me if I’m crossing a line you’re uncomfortable with, and this will be the last you see of me.”

  I should tell him he’s crossing a line. I should remind him I’m engaged, and carrying another man’s child. I should do a lot of things right now, but I don’t. “I’m not uncomfortable,” I say quietly. “I’ve really appreciated you sitting with me. I’m sure you could probably find a hundred things more important you could have been doing—”

  “No, I couldn’t,” he interrupts softly. “I probably could have resisted the desire to spend time with you, if it hadn’t been for your midnight intruder. Even then, I was trying to think of ways to keep away from you. I very nearly called Claire that night even though you asked me not to, because I knew you shouldn’t be left alone. But I don’t regret staying with you and getting to know you. And in the short couple of days since, I’ve looked forward to seeing you more than what was probably wise. The conflict of interest came into play when I realized my desire to spend time with you had nothing to do with my profession, and everything to do with you personally. I suppose I could have ignored the evening I spent here with you, and gone on keeping our relationship professional, and I did try. But whenever I walked in here, those thoughts were wiped clean from my mind. And as I said, I don’t want to put you in an undesirable position, but I do care about you, Samantha. I understand completely you’re in a relationship right now and, from what I’ve heard, I don’t think that will change any time soon, despite your current troubles with your fiancé. I would never interfere with that, especially with children involved. So I have a proposition for you.”