Young Truths (Young Series) (13 page)

There is one last voicemail message from a number I don’t recognize, but a voice I know all too well. “Hi, Matthew,” begins the hesitant voice of my ex-girlfriend Lucy. “I know you’d prefer not to hear from me ever again and I understand why, but I really need to speak with you. I won’t take too much of your time and we can talk over the phone if you prefer, but
please
call me back. It’s really important. Please.” She sighs into the phone. “I hope to hear from you soon. Take care.”

I lower my phone, staring at the screen in confusion. I’ve known Lucy since my sophomore year in college and we dated for nearly two years before I caught her in bed with a friend of mine. Since then, I’ve maintained distance from her, despite my father’s attempts to bring us back together. I can’t remember the last time she actually called me or whether I’ve ever heard her sounding as afraid as she does in that message. I’m tempted to call her back right now, but the last thing I need is for Samantha to walk in while we’re talking. Not that I would keep a phone call like that secret if it was important, but considering she’s barely speaking to me right now, my best course of action might be to wait until I get back to work and call Lucy from there.

“Dad!”

I glance down to find my son standing right in front of me, a huge shit-eating grin on his face. “Can I help you?” I ask in a feigned bored tone.

Of course Tyler is too smart to take me seriously. “You gotta come see Bandit’s new trick before dinner,” he insists, grabbing my hand and tugging to get me on my feet.

I plant my feet on the floor to give him some resistance and watch in amusement as he keeps trying. “Dad, come on!”

Laughing now, I reach out with my free arm, pulling Tyler to me and tickling him mercilessly until the air is filled with his giggling.

“Mommy!” he cries out through his breathless laughing. “Help!”

My eyes dart up as Samantha descends the staircase, a hand resting on her belly. I grin at her and I’m relieved when she returns it and it doesn’t even seem forced like I thought it might. “What are you doing to my son?” she demands, hands fisting on her hips.

“Tickling him,” I say simply. “Want to try for yourself?”

Tyler is still giggling while I continue the assault on his ribs, shaking his head hard to try and sway his mother’s decision. “No, Mommy! Don’t do it!”

“Hmm,” she murmurs in consideration. Behind her, Bandit bolts down the stairs, barking happily as he joins the fray in an attempt to pull Tyler away from me by the seat of his pants. “Seems to me you can handle a puppy and a little boy, Matt. And if you can’t,” she shakes her head sadly, “what kind of man are you?”

I narrow my eyes at her teasing and lean down to whisper into Tyler’s ear. He grins up at me and nods, and in the next second he’s making a beeline for Samantha to tickle her. The game only lasts a couple minutes since Samantha can’t exactly runaway and all three of us end up on the couch, breathless and laughing. I glance at Samantha again and she’s looking back at me with a soft smile, and I know I’m forgiven for being an asshole to her earlier. “Why don’t we order in and get a movie?” I suggest quietly. “Have a quiet night.”

She smiles. “I think that’s a great idea,” she replies, glancing down to Tyler. “What do you think?”

Tyler tilts his head to the side and considers the suggestion. “Okay,” he says happily. “Can I pick the movie?”

Chuckling, I ruffle his hair and stand. “As long as your homework is done, of course you can, Ty,” I tell him. “How about you and I go get food and we’ll rent a movie and Mom can relax for a bit?”

“Can Bandit come?” Tyler asks, sliding off the couch.

“Why not?” I say, sliding my feet into my shoes and leaning over the back of the couch to press a kiss to Samantha’s lips. “Want anything while we’re out?”

She purses her lips in consideration and my smile widens at yet another reminder of how much Tyler is like his mother. “Chocolate cake?” she asks hopefully.

“You got it,” I murmur against her lips. “We’ll be back soon.”

Once the boys are gone, I settle into the couch and allow myself time for reflection. It didn’t hit me until we got to this apartment that the house is probably long gone, despite Matthew’s belief that the damage will be minimal. If the fire was arson, somebody planned this and there’s no doubt in my mind that they didn’t consider my husband, son, and I would get out safely. Is that what they wanted? For us to die in our sleep from smoke inhalation, trapped in the heat, or possibly succumbing to the fire itself? I can’t admit it to Matthew, because I know he’ll overreact, but after nearly three drama-free months, I’ve managed to let my guard down and I’m now absolutely terrified. How much farther will these people go before they’re caught or we’re dead?

I jump when my cell phone begins vibrating across the coffee table. Assuming it’s Matthew, I don’t bother looking at the caller ID before pressing the phone to my ear. “Having trouble keeping a seven-year-old and a puppy in check?” I ask, grinning.

My amusement dissipates when I don’t hear Matthew’s immediate smart ass retort. In fact, there’s no response at all. I pull the phone from my ear and look at the display—the number is unknown. “Hello?” I ask again. I listen hard for any noise to give away who’s calling, but there’s nothing, and in the next second, I hear a click on the other end. Hanging up the phone, I get to my feet, heading towards one of the front windows. I push aside the curtains and look out in the street just in time to see a familiar black SUV drive slowly past the building. I jump back, dropping the curtain, wondering if the driver saw me and whether the driver was the mysterious unknown caller. The two can’t be a coincidence, can they?

I walk around the apartment checking and rechecking that the doors and windows are locked, and I suddenly feel very unsafe and vulnerable. At the house, we had so much buffering between us and the streets that I never would have noticed a car driving past, and I never realized until now how much I needed that sense of security. I could call Matthew and tell him what happened and he would drop everything in his haste to get back to me. Before I can, however, my phone rings again. My heart rate increases as I tentatively look down at the caller ID before exhaling a huge sigh of relief. “Hi, Mark,” I say quietly when I answer the call.

“Samantha,” he says in relief. “I’ve been trying to find time to call you for two days, but I’ve been busy. I heard about the house; are you three okay?”

I smile. “Yeah, we’re fine,” I respond. “Matt stayed overnight at the hospital due to smoke inhalation, but none of us were really hurt.”

“Glad to hear it,” he says genuinely. “And I’m so sorry about the house. Any chance it’s salvageable?”

I sigh. “I’m not sure yet,” I reply. “We haven’t been back there, but from what I understand, the damage is pretty extensive.”

“You have somewhere to stay, right? If you need to, all of you are more than welcome to stay with me. I won’t be home much this week, since Jessica and I are heading out to see her parents.”

“No, we’re staying in an apartment in town. Shockingly enough, Matt has thought far enough ahead and everything was ready for us when we walked through the door. Not much of a surprise; he always seems to be three steps ahead of everyone and everything. Our other option was staying with Claire, but that wouldn’t last a week before everyone would be at each other’s throats.”

Mark chuckles. “Well, I’m glad to hear you’ve got a place to stay. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“I appreciate it, but no,” I say sincerely. “We’re good for now. How’s Jessica?”

We talk for a few more minutes about his nerves as he prepares to propose marriage and the anxiety of meeting his hopefully soon-to-be fiancée’s family. I assure him he’ll be fine and there’s nothing to worry about. Though I don’t say it out loud like I did at lunch not too long ago, I know he’ll charm them the second they meet. He just seems to have that effect on people. He asks about the baby and whether I’m ready to finally be done with my pregnancy—the answer to that is a very sound yes—and I realize suddenly we don’t have any preparations for the baby here. We had the nursery set up completely and beautifully, and here we have nothing. We’ll have to do something about that soon.

Behind me, I hear a door unlocking and turn to see Matthew holding open the door with one hand, a stack of pizzas and a paper bag in the other, and allowing Tyler and Bandit to enter first. I hear Mark chuckle. “Sounds like you’ve got company.”

“Understatement,” I reply, smiling at Matthew as he sets down the food. “We’re getting ready to have dinner, but thanks for calling and if I don’t see you before you and Jessica fly out, good luck with the proposal.”

“Thank you,” he says sincerely. “And if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to call.”

We say goodbye and I end the call, turning to my husband who is watching me closely. “That was Mark,” I tell him, pushing myself off the couch to waddle towards the kitchen table. “He just wanted to make sure we’re okay after the fire.”

Matthew nods slowly. “Nice of him,” he mutters, his tone dripping sarcasm. “Hungry?”

He turns away from me and I roll my eyes. No matter what I do, he and Mark will never be friends, which is rather unfortunate, because I think they have a lot in common. Not that I have any intention of pushing my luck

The rest of our evening is relatively quiet. While we watch our movie and eat the triple chocolate cake Matthew picked up for dessert, I notice my husband is brooding at his end of the couch and more than once, I see him glancing down at his cell phone as though he’s expecting a call. When he realizes I’m picking up on his odd behavior, he quickly turns his attention back to me and the movie, grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch, and covering us with it. As always when we have one of these evenings, Tyler is fast asleep halfway through the movie he was so eager to watch, and Matthew and I are very happily entwined with one another, drifting in and out of consciousness. When the movie ends, Matthew takes him upstairs, telling me he’ll be right back. While he’s gone, his phone begins to vibrate. I hesitate only a second in case it’s something important that he needs to address. I lean over to the coffee table and feel like I’ve been kicked in the ribs when I see the name of my husband’s ex-girlfriend Lucy on the caller ID.

Curled up in my naked husband’s arms, I should have fallen asleep just as quickly as he did. When he came down from tucking Tyler in, the words were in my throat to ask him about the phone call from Lucy, but clearly he had other things on his mind. I probably shouldn’t be surprised; whenever Matthew has too much going through his head and can’t quite find it in himself to make sense of it, he finds a distraction and that distraction is usually me. I’m certainly not complaining; he has a way of taking both our minds off the entire world around us when it’s just the two of us in bed together. In the last couple months of my pregnancy, we’ve both enjoyed my heightened hormones or whatever it is that causes me to want him even more than I normally do. He’s certainly always up for the challenge—pun intended—and he seems willing to take advantage while he can.

Within minutes of his reappearance, both of us had mysteriously lost our shirts and I’d somehow managed to forget about his ex-girlfriend’s phone call. Another few minutes and we were tangled up together beneath the sheets. Now he’s fast asleep behind me, his arms wrapped just above my pregnant belly, and his soft breath is blowing against my neck as though nothing is bothering him. I, on the other hand, have been running on adrenaline for what feels like a week. Since the moment Matthew woke me and I realized our home was on fire, fear has filled my body along with an overwhelming need to protect my family. I think what scares me the most is that my husband believes he doesn’t need anyone’s protection, least of all mine. He proved that by running into a burning house not once, but twice, and risking death without a thought about his pregnant wife and terrified son standing on the front lawn begging him to stay with us. I’m still a little angry about that.

But true to form, Matthew bounced right back, got us somewhere safe, somewhere to call home until we figure out what’s next with our house. He had a plan for this—maybe that’s what I’m really afraid of—and hardly hesitated to set that plan in motion. He’s trying so hard to be the strong one like always and as much as I want to just curl up in his arms and let him take care of everything, I know it can only be a matter of time before he cracks and for once, I want to be the one to protect him from that. I don’t think that’s too much to ask for, but I can’t do that until he tells me what it is he needs from me. As his wife, I should inherently know the best way to help him and it doesn’t exactly fill my heart with gladness to know I have no idea where to even start.

Our life is a mess right now and he has no interest in dissecting any of it, at least not with me. He’s the one who dragged me back into this life, not completely against my will, but I didn’t see many choices when he showed up on my doorstep in Omaha to tell me Tom, Tyler, and I were in danger and he was the only one who could help us. I knew the moment I opened the door that the life I’d worked so hard to move on from had returned with no intention of leaving me in its wake ever again. There are times I really hate being right. Not that I regret being back in Matthew’s life, carrying his child, being his wife again, but I definitely could have lived without the drama and fear and every other negative emotion I’ve felt over the last ten months.