Young Revelations (Young Series)

by Kimble, W. R.

  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.

  Now I’m walking into a small church where his funeral is being held and I’m still trying to come to terms with everything that’s happened. I’ve been looking at the world differently since the night I went after my son. I’m realizing that I can’t trust anybody but myself. Well no, that’s not quite true. The only person who has always been straight with me no matter the circumstances is Samantha. But I blew that right out of the water. I haven’t seen her, haven’t spoken to her, and my very brief conversation with Claire yesterday didn’t yield any answers as to how she is—not that I let the conversation go on long enough to actually ask about her.

  I’ve been keeping busy, trying to spend as little time at home as I can get away with. Between dealing with the aftermath of the kidnapping which has involved Leo’s death, Natalie’s injuries, Marcus’s injuries, Frank Marone’s disappearance, and work, I’ve hardly been there. And I have no desire to go home right now. I don’t want to go back and see how empty it is without Samantha and Tyler and Leo. The worst part about this situation is the time I’m left alone with nothing but my thoughts for company. What did I do to Leo that he turned on me? Is it really a simple matter of jealousy? Or that he was sick of living in my shadow? It’s true most people treated him like my sidekick rather than my best friend, but I always made sure he knew how much I appreciated him.

  After Samantha and Tyler left the hospital, I went straight to Marcus’s room where we sat in silence for several hours until his doctor arrived to release him. From the hospital, we headed to the airfield where a plane was waiting to take us to Pennsylvania for the second time in twelve hours. Upon our arrival, we were taken to the jail where Natalie was being held in the hopes that we could get some desperately needed answers.

  I spent over an hour questioning her, not that it did much good; most everything she said centered around her gloating about how she’d pulled this off right under my nose. I asked her how long Leo had been involved with her. She said since the day they met. I asked if she’d been fucking him while she was with me. She had been. From what I learned from her, she’d basically brainwashed Leo into believing I didn’t appreciate him and that I used him, and he deserved the limelight for a change. She’d used both of us for her gain, which was all about that fucking microchip she and I developed together. She took advantage of my heartbreak over losing Samantha, and used my vulnerability to get what she wanted. She convinced my best friend to try and kill me. I have to wonder now how much more they had planned together.

  When I went home the first time, I headed straight out to search the guest house by the lake where Leo lived. What I found was shocking and heartbreaking. Letters from Natalie detailing plans to get me out of the picture. Surveillance I sure as hell never approved of Samantha and Tyler, which I assume is similar to what Sam found in Frank Marone’s office months ago. Leo had been hacking into the Young Technologies servers for years. On his hard drive, I found videos of me in my office, several of which showed Natalie as well. There are detailed accounts of Sam and Tyler’s activities when they came back to my life. And Leo being Leo, before all of these revelations, this would have only raised slight concern from me—he was head of security and as such, he had to be aware of everything they did. Now I wonder who he’d been giving this information to. What would have happened if I hadn’t come back from the dead when I did?

  As I reach the front of the church hall where a large photo of Leo is setup beside a closed casket surrounded by flowers, I forget about my feelings of being betrayed. Instead I remember everything he and I did together throughout our friendship. Leo encouraged me to start my company, even after my father threatened to disown me. Without him, Young Technologies might not be what it is now. Not to mention all the threats he and his team diffused that could have been the end of my life. He was there for me when I caught Lucy cheating, when Samantha and Tyler left. He pushed me to go to Omaha to ensure my family’s safety when this latest threat came to the surface. Leo kept me from drinking myself into oblivion when depression hit. I can’t imagine my life without Leo Hoffman.

  There aren’t many people here, but the viewing doesn’t actually start for a couple hours. The funeral director let me in early so I could pay my respects and get back to work. I stand in front of the photo of Leo for a long time, uncertain of what to do next. Finally, with a sigh, I walk over to the casket that is covered with an American flag.

  “Whatever happened in the last few years,” I tell Leo quietly, my hand resting against the polished wood of his casket, “it doesn’t matter. Natalie might have gotten in your head, but in the end, you saved my life. That bullet was meant for me and we both knew it, so thank you for giving me another chance. Whether you f
elt guilty for everything that’s happened and that I found out about it, or you realized what’s been going on is just plain wrong and you made a mistake, I don’t care. We always said we’d go out in style—this probably isn’t what we envisioned, but thank you. If not for you, Tyler might not have made it out unscathed and I would have broken my promise to Samantha.”

  I glance behind me to make sure I’m alone and reach into my back pocket, retrieving a photo that’s about twenty years old. It was taken right before my family left San Diego for Tokyo of Leo and me with our arms clung around one another and smiling like we weren’t as miserable about being separated as we actually were. Very carefully, I lift the corner of the flag, then the lid of the casket. Without looking inside, I slide the photo in through the gap and put everything back the way it was. I stand there for several more minutes trying to remember all the good as opposed to the negative, then pat the casket a couple times, turn on my heel, and walk away.

  I need to start getting my life back.

  ––––-o––––-

  Despite my intentions otherwise, my time is not spent trying to get Samantha back. After the first several days of maintained stone silence, I came to the conclusion that this was her decision and if this is what she wants, I need to give her that. Once I came to that conclusion, I raided my liquor cabinet and pretty much emptied it in less than a week. I’ve cancelled all business meetings, delegating everything to my colleagues or handing them off to other companies. I’ve stopped caring about work and everything else. What’s the point in any of it if Samantha isn’t here with me? Unlike last time she left me, I don’t have Leo here to stop me from heading down paths that could get me into a lot of trouble. That thought only makes me want to drink myself further into oblivion. And I have been.

  Nearly two weeks has passed since the kidnapping. In that time I’ve slept maybe fifteen hours, and most of that has been on the couch in my office at Young Technologies. Now I’m stumbling through my front door, having been driven home via taxi, refusing to look at anything as I make my way to my home office. Since my two minute conversation with Claire, she’s called me two or three times a day and I’ve managed to avoid every call, mostly because every time my phone rings I hope it’s Samantha and when I realize it isn’t, I want to throw my phone across the room.