Young Truths (Young Series) (23 page)

“She’s less wrinkly today,” Tyler informs me happily.

Laughing, I nod my agreement and turn to look for my husband. Apparently, he and Claire have gone out into the hallway to talk about something. I’m not even certain Matthew made it into the room before she pounced on him. They’re only gone for a moment before he’s entering, a forced smile on his face. Claire follows him, looking vaguely annoyed about something. “Hey, baby,” he murmurs, crossing over to me in a few long strides and bending to kiss me deeply. Tempted as I am to take it a few steps further, I’m very aware of my children’s and Claire’s presence. When we part, Matthew looks down at the baby. “And hello, other baby.” He places a very sweet kiss on her forehead and I see a look of bliss cross his face momentarily. “We’re not late, are we?”

I shake my head. “Right on time, actually,” I tell him cheerily. “Just got her in the car seat.”

He beams. “Good,” he says quietly. “I cannot wait to get you two home.”

“And we cannot wait to get home,” I inform him. “So how are we getting all this stuff in the car with us?” I gesture to the baby gifts, flowers, and other things that were sent to me in the last couple days.

“That’s why my baby sister is here,” Matthew says. “She’s got the van. And I’ve asked the security team to help carry it all down.”

I snort a laugh. “Brilliant use of them,” I mutter teasingly. He rolls his eye at me, but grins. “I’ve already signed the release papers, so we’re free to go whenever we’re ready.”

Even as I speak the words, a nurse enters the room with a wheelchair followed by the security team with an empty medical cart. They start loading all the gifts onto it and I self-consciously settle into the wheelchair. You would think after all the times I’ve been hospitalized over the last nine months I’d be used to it. Only when Tyler demands to sit on my lap do I accept my fate at being pushed through the hospital in this thing. Matthew is smiling fondly at us, though I can’t help but notice it doesn’t quite reach his eyes the way I would expect it to. I frown questioningly at him, but he only shakes his head, sending me a wink, before darting his eyes very briefly to his sister. I don’t know what they discussed when he arrived, but whatever it is, neither of them looks happy.

“Matt, I’m telling you, something is off about him,” Claire says, grabbing my shirt as I make to follow Samantha to the elevators.

I turn around resignedly to look at her insistent expression. To be honest, I only heard a handful of the words she blurted out to me when I reached Samantha’s floor. “Off about who?” I ask in annoyance.

She gives me an incredulous expression. “Did you listen at all?” she demands. “Mark Reilly! I heard him on the phone when I got here talking to someone.”

“Call the police and have him arrested, then,” I say sarcastically.

Her eyes narrow at me. “You are so lucky you’re carrying your daughter right now,” she threatens. “Whoever he was talking to, they were discussing Samantha. He told them it wasn’t a good time and that she’s just given birth and it was a difficult labor. He turned and saw me and hung up. I asked him who he was talking to since it was obvious he was talking about Sam.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose and struggle to maintain my patience. “And what did he say?”

“That he was talking to his girlfriend.”

“Yes, I can see why you’re so suspicious, Claire,” I say flatly, backing away to join my family. “Is he also wearing a white coat and walking around calling himself ‘Doctor’?” She glares at me. “And how is it you’re suddenly so worried about a guy you practically drool over whenever he walks through a door?”

“Dammit, Matt,” she hisses. “I’m not overreacting!”

I sigh. “Look, we’ll discuss it later. I’d like to get my family home now if you don’t mind.” Without another word, I turn away and join my wife, son, and the nurse pushing Samantha to the elevator, resting a hand on her shoulder as I smile down at them. For the first time since this morning, I’m completely relaxed. “Let’s get you home, Mrs. Young.”

“Here we are.” I grin at the words I recall using seven years ago when Samantha and I finally brought Tyler home from the hospital. Pushing open the door, I hold it for Samantha and Tyler, still holding tight to Olivia’s car seat. “Welcome home, Olivia.”

Bandit rushes down from somewhere upstairs and takes immediate interest in what I’m carrying. Smirking, I set Olivia on the kitchen table and bend down to pick up the puppy. Samantha realizes what I’m doing and I see her entire body tense. “It’s fine,” I assure her. Keeping Bandit’s paws under control, I slowly lower him to get a better look at the baby. His neck extends and he begins sniffing excitedly. The moment he does, Olivia’s eyes pop wide open and she watches us in vague interest.

“Okay, enough,” Samantha says decisively, her voice tight with anxiety.

I’m smart enough not to argue as I lower Bandit to the floor where he runs off to play with Tyler. “Okay, sorry,” I tell my wife. “I just thought it would be best if he matched her scent to the onesie I brought home last night.”

She raises an eyebrow at me. “You brought home a onesie?” she asks suspiciously.

“Yes. It’s so Bandit can get used to her scent. Thought it might be a good idea,” I explain, shrugging.

She smiles. “It is a good idea,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to my lips. “Thank you.”

I wink at her. “Want to see her room?” I ask. Her eyes widen and I realize I’ve forgotten to mention that I’ve got the room all set up. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

I grab Olivia’s car seat in one hand and Samantha’s hand with the other while Tyler and Bandit lead the way up the apartment stairs to the bedroom between ours and Tyler’s. “Open the door,” I say, trying not to bounce in excitement.

Narrowing her eyes at me, Samantha does and gasps in surprise. “Oh my God, Matt,” she whispers, spinning around to look at me. “You did all this?”

I sigh dramatically. “I wish I could take all the credit,” I say, gesturing for her to enter the room. I place the car seat on the floor and bend down to remove Olivia from, hushing her softly as she begins to fuss in my arms. “But this is all courtesy of Marcus and his wife. Since everything we had set up is gone, they offered to let us use the stuff they had left over from their kids. He sent it all over yesterday and put it all together for us.” Even as I’m speaking, I’m placing Olivia into the dark wooden crib set in front of the window. Luckily, she seems perfectly at peace here.

“That was very sweet of them,” Samantha says quietly, coming over to wrap an arm around my waist.

I nod my agreement, kissing her hair as we watch Olivia fall asleep again. Tyler pushes his way between us, wrapping his hands around the crib bars. “She sleeps a lot,” he whispers, tilting his head back to look at us. “It’s kind of boring.”

Snorting a laugh, I grab my son by his waist and turn Samantha back towards the door, dimming the light and activating the crib mobile Marcus so expertly installed. Silhouettes of moons and stars slowly revolve across the walls. I think I could fall asleep standing in this room. Reluctantly, we leave Olivia to sleep and head downstairs where I’ve got dinner finishing up in the oven.

“Very impressive, Mr. Young,” Samantha praises as I pull the dish of enchiladas from the oven. “Did Marcus do this as well?”

I look at her, affronted. “This was all me, thank you very much!” I tell her indignantly.

She laughs and helps Tyler set the table, despite my insistences that she should sit and let us serve her. “I’ve been in bed for two days. I think I can put a couple plates on the table.”

“Sit,” I tell her sternly, pointing at her chair. She rolls her eyes and smirks at my tone, but does as she’s told. Though she tries to hide it, I see her wince and I know she’s not feeling as great as she says she is.

While we eat, I try to keep the conversation light. My mind drifts, however, to what I saw in the lake today—was it really only just today? There hasn’t been any communication from Marcus; I didn’t really expect any, but it would be nice. I can only imagine what’s going on at the house right now. Police crawling all over the place, maybe a search and rescue team out on the lake. I want to believe it’s all a coincidence, that it wasn’t Lucy’s body I saw despite Marcus’s belief otherwise, and whatever poor soul was murdered and dumped in the lake has no connection to me or my family.

I know better, of course. By now, I realize my life is beyond complicated and there is little I can do to stop it.

After dinner, Samantha heads upstairs to feed Olivia, Tyler goes to play, and I’m left cleaning up the remnants of our meal. I find myself staring at my phone while I finish up the dishes and I don’t even realize I’m done until a pair of arms slide around my waist. Smiling, I turn around, leaning against the sink and pulling Samantha against me. “How’s our daughter?” I ask softly as she presses her cheek against my heart.

“She’s perfect,” Samantha says contentedly. “I’d forgotten how nice they smell.”

Chuckling, I press a kiss to the top of her head and lead her into the living room where we curl up on the couch together. Tyler is sitting on the floor playing videogames with Bandit curled up right beside him. “And how are you, Mrs. Young? Tired? Sore?”

“All the above,” she admits resignedly, snuggling further into me. “And I missed you last night.”

I smile down at the top of her head. “I missed you, too,” I tell her.

“Is that because you were having nightmares?” she teases.

I glare over at Tyler, who is oblivious. “Your son has a big mouth.”

She doesn’t respond and after a few moments, I look down and smile; she’s fallen asleep against me. I don’t bother moving until Tyler’s bedtime; I very carefully lift her into my arms and carry her upstairs. Once I’ve gotten Tyler into his pajamas, read him his story, and tucked him in, I head in to check on Olivia. She’s still fast asleep so I just stand beside her crib for while and watch her. I think what I hate most right now is that I should be overjoyed with the birth of my daughter, but instead, I’m preoccupied with other things. It’s monumentally unfair for all of us, but mostly for my wife and our newborn.

“Welcome to our world, Olivia,” I whisper, bending down to press a tiny kiss to her head. I want to tell her she’ll be safe, that I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe, and she’ll never be hurt. But I’ve said those words before to both Samantha and Tyler, and I was proven wrong time and time again. Sighing, I finally head back to my bedroom and curl up with my wife for what I know will be a restless night.

As is always the case with a newborn in the house, the next few days are exhausting. Matthew and I have effortlessly alternated which of us sleeps while the other tends to the kids. I’m not really certain how much sleep Matthew is actually getting, though; he’s been distracted and it’s becoming more obvious. Especially at times like now during the middle of the night when I wake up expecting to find him beside me only to find his spot on the bed cool and empty.

With a sigh, I roll out of bed, wrapping myself in a robe and head over to the next room where I find Olivia’s door wide open. Smiling, I lean against the doorframe and watch as my husband gently sways around the room with our daughter against his naked chest. His eyes are closed and his cheek is resting on her head, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a look of peace on anybody’s face before. It takes me a few moments to realize he’s singing very faintly and I strain my ears to hear the words. When I do, I have to fight not to burst out laughing. Only Matthew would sing “I’m Too Sexy” to a newborn.

He must sense that I’m watching him; his eyes open on mine and he smiles softly. “Did we wake you?” he whispers.

I shake my head and enter the room, cupping Olivia’s head. “No,” I respond. “Woke myself—biological clock; she’ll be hungry soon.” He nods, still slightly swaying. “And for the record, I should probably protest about you introducing her to Right Said Fred at such a young age.”

He grins at me. “It’s been in my head for days,” he explains. “I couldn’t help it.”

After a few minutes, Olivia begins to stir, her tiny lips puckering. Matthew gestures for me to go sit in the rocking chair and when I do, he places Olivia in my arms, then pulls up a chair beside me. Olivia latches on to me and I turn my head to look at my husband. He’s staring out the nursery window, his brow furrowed deeply in thought. He almost looks troubled and it’s starting to worry me. This afternoon, I wandered downstairs and heard him on the phone with somebody, whispering. I couldn’t make out what they were talking about, but he sounded frustrated. I want to ask him what’s wrong, ask him to confide in me, though I know he’ll brush off my questions. Maybe if I can get him talking about something else first...

“How’d you meet Marcus?” I ask quietly, looking down at Olivia. His gaze snaps over to me and he gives me a questioning look; apparently he didn’t hear a word I said. “Marcus. How did you meet him?”

To my surprise, he smirks. “You really want to know?” he replies. For a second, I second guess my question; with that glint in his eyes, he could say anything. “He arrested me.”

My eyes widen. “What?” I ask incredulously.

His smirk widens as he nods. “Yup. A couple years ago now. He was newly transferred to the FBI office I’d been working with for years and we hadn’t become properly acquainted. There was a break-in at Young Technologies and his office responded, because the lab that was broken into was housing a project for them. Anyway, I got the call in the middle of the night and headed over to see what was going on. Being me, instead of walking through the front door like I should have done, I decided to head in through the tunnel under my office. I wanted to see if maybe the intruders had gotten in through there somehow. Well, Marcus found one of the tunnel entrances and ran into me. I guess he thought I was the one who broke in. I tried to tell him who I was, but again, being me, I couldn’t hold off with the smartass comments and before I could blink, he had me on the ground, straddling my back, and was handcuffing me. Of course, my response to that was I don’t usually allow that sort of behavior until after I’ve been wined and dined. He didn’t like that. It wasn’t until he actually got me back to the FBI office that anyone told him who I was.” Matthew rolls his eyes. “Samantha, that man hated me for so long.”