Young Truths (Young Series) (9 page)

There’s no sign of the SUV—I think I might have actually scared the driver off for the time being—so we head home as quickly as we can. I’m glancing in my mirrors much more often than normal, searching for anything out of the ordinary. Of course I see nothing and I’m starting to really get worried about this situation. Part of me wants to tell Samantha she’s not leaving the house until this mess is sorted, but I know she will never go for that. I just have to up security for when I can’t be around Samantha and Tyler. I won’t let them get hurt again and some asshole creeping around in an SUV isn’t going to get near them.

As I sit in my office staring at my fish tank, I try to figure out what my next move should be. I’ve already sent the picture of the SUV’s license plate to Marcus for him to investigate and that should have been the end of my involvement until there is further information. But of course, I can’t let anything go, especially something like this. I hate not knowing the answers to everything, not having control over every aspect of my life. I hate feeling helpless when there are unknown threats surrounding my family. I want this mess to finally be sorted so we can just move on, but apparently that’s a little too much to ask for. Go figure.

I know Samantha has noticed my mood tonight, but she’s yet to call me on it. And it’s not as though I’m intentionally keeping things from her; I just don’t want to worry her unnecessarily until I know enough to set her at ease. Hopefully she just thinks I’m still annoyed about the clown thing—which a very small part of me is, but for the most part, I’m over it. If Tyler wants to go to a circus for his birthday, then that’s what he’ll get. I suppose I can suffer through a couple hours of clown torture...

In an attempt to distract myself, I open one of my desk drawers and remove the manila folder I received the other day. Inside is the deed to Bonnie’s bookstore, which has been changed to show Samantha as the new owner. It will go into effect at the beginning of June, right around Samantha’s twenty-seventh birthday. Bonnie and I thought it best to give Sam a couple months after the baby is born before she takes on the added stress of running her own business. We both know she’ll be amazing once she takes over, but I wanted her to have the chance to grow accustomed to the idea of running the bookstore rather than just throwing her into the throes of the business world. Samantha still has no idea about the any of this and I’m actually a little nervous about telling her; on one hand, I know she’ll be thrilled, but on the other, telling her means I’ll also have to break the news about Bonnie’s illness. That is if she hasn’t worked out exactly what’s going on already.

“Are you planning on avoiding me all night?”

I snap my head towards the door of my office and find Samantha standing there already in her pajamas, and I realize it’s much later than I thought. Tyler’s probably already in bed and fast asleep. “I’m not avoiding you,” I tell her. “I just lost track of time. I’m sorry.”

Eyeing me skeptically, she crosses the room and comes around the desk to stand beside me. I immediately swivel my chair and tug on her hand to pull her down to sit on my lap. It takes her a few moments to get comfortable and I take the opportunity to covertly slide the deed back into my desk drawer and close it without drawing attention. “Is that so?” she asks. “Because the only time I ever see you in this mood is when something’s gone wrong and you’re scared. So cut the crap and tell me what’s going on.”

I stare at her for a few moments teetering between amusement and slight fear. I don’t know if it’s the pregnancy hormones at work or if she’s really just sick of my bullshit, but lately she’s had no problem calling me out when she thinks I’m in the wrong. “I wasn’t avoiding you,” I repeat sincerely. “I just didn’t want to panic or worry you until I had more information.”

“Information about what?” she asks tentatively.

Sighing, I place my hands on her belly and immediately feel our baby kicking. I smile slightly before I begin. “When I picked Tyler up from school today,” I say slowly, “I was followed. It was the SUV you’ve been seeing, I’m sure of it. It followed us to town when I took him for ice cream and I left him with Mayor Green for a better look.”

Rather than being annoyed about ruining our son’s dinner with ice cream, her eyes widen. “Did you see anything?” she whispers.

“The window tint was too dark,” I say in frustration. “But I was able to get a picture of the license plate, which I sent to Marcus. He’s going to get back to me about who it is, though I half-expect it to be a dead end; chances are it’s a fake.”

“So what do we do?”

I shake my head helplessly. “We do exactly what we’re doing right now. We keep our eyes open, let our security team do its job, and don’t do anything stupid—though that last part mostly applies to me,” I say wryly, eliciting a small grin from my wife. “Once we know who this guy is, and his tie to Marone, if there is one, we can work on sorting this mess out.” I rest my chin on her shoulder. “There’s also a possibility that now I’ve seen him, the driver won’t risk being seen again.”

“How likely is that?”

“Couldn’t tell you,” I say regretfully. “But we can hope.”

She nods and for a few minutes we sit in silence. I want to know what she’s thinking, whether she’s scared and just trying to hide it from me, or if she realizes I have no intention of letting anything hurt her. “So did you try changing Ty’s mind about the circus?” she asks finally.

I crack a grin as she turns to look at me, her eyes shining teasingly. “I tried, but he can be pretty damn convincing. I think it’s that puppy dog look he picked up from you.”

“From me?” she asks incredulously. “Please, you’re the master of the puppy dog look. Why do you think I took pity on you when you asked me for coffee all those years ago?”

“I think it was because I’m undeniably handsome and charming and you couldn’t resist me,” I retort smoothly, causing her to laugh. “Anyway, I figure if Tyler wants the circus on his birthday, I can survive it for a couple hours.”

“Don’t worry,” she says, climbing off my lap. “I’ll protect you from the big bad clowns.”

“Good,” I respond, following her out of the office. “I was counting on that. The moment they turn on the crowd, I’m getting the hell out of there...” By the time we reach our bedroom, we’re both laughing, despite the conversation we just had. This is how things should always be for us—the teasing, the playful banter, the happiness. I don’t think there’s anything I wouldn’t do to have this for the rest of my life.

To my surprise, Matthew is actually enjoying Tyler’s birthday party at the circus. Most of the children from Tyler’s class are here along with Claire, Danny, and their children. I can’t remember ever seeing Tyler so excited and happy for his own birthday; he didn’t have many friends in Omaha, so he never really wanted a party or anything. The last three years Tom and I took him out to eat and to a movie or bowling or something, and he seemed perfectly happy with that arrangement. I’m glad Matthew is with us this year to celebrate; he admitted to me last night that every year on our son’s birthday, he’d buy Tyler a present, even though he never knew whether he’d see us again, and spent most of the day at home looking at our family albums. Last year, he actually flew out to Omaha and sat in the same restaurant as us. Mostly to avoid the feelings of guilt, I accused him of stalking us, something he assured me he had no problem doing. He said he just wanted to make sure we were happy and the next day he left the state on business until June when he returned to inform us of the danger he’d apparently caused.

Today, though, we’re putting all that behind us. Claire and I are sitting together two rows behind the kids eating stale popcorn and drinking flat soda, and laughing about nothing in particular. Until, of course, the clowns make their entrance and we both look at Matthew for his reaction: His entire body tenses and I swear he’s shaking a little. For a brief moment, I think he might have actually grabbed Danny’s hand for comfort or protection or something. He let go pretty quickly and scooted as far from his brother-in-law as possible, but there is no doubt in my mind we will be making fun of him for this for the next six months.

“So why’s he afraid of clowns?” I ask Claire. “And why the hell did you never tell me?”

“He swore me to secrecy when I was ten—pinky swear and everything. Back then, it seemed sacred and binding, and I just never felt like incurring his wrath if I let it slip,” she says dismissively. “As for why...” She rolls her eyes. “He was probably a freshman or junior in high school and Leo had come out to visit for Halloween. Leo thought it’d be fun for us to go to this huge haunted house all the kids in town were talking about. I begged Matt to let me come with him, and he tried to convince me I’d be too scared and didn’t want to let me go—well, Mom made him and Leo take me along anyway. So we’re standing outside this huge warehouse waiting for the haunted house to let us in. Matt was leaning on the wall near this door and kept boasting that I’d be too scared to last more than five minutes when the door bursts open and this evil looking clown carrying a chainsaw rushes out. Next thing I know, Matt is squealing like a little girl and running across the parking lot to my mom’s car. He jumped in the backseat, locked the door, and refused to come out, even when the clown went back inside. Leo and I went through the haunted house laughing our asses off and we never let him live it down since.”

“Oh, that is priceless,” I say through my laughter. “We need to have fun with this...” For the next hour or so, until the show ends, Claire and I plot how to use Matthew’s fear against him. By the time we leave, we’re both grinning at Matthew whenever he looks at us and he’s obviously starting to get a little uneasy.

“What are you two plotting?” he asks when we get home.

I grin at him again and he visibly shrinks away. “Trust me; you don’t want to know...”

The rest of the afternoon is spent eating pizza and cake and ice cream, and watching Tyler opening all his presents. In typical Tyler-style, he’s genuinely pleased at everything he gets, even the dinosaur bed sheets some kid gave him. By the time everyone leaves, I’m exhausted and falling asleep on the downstairs couch while Tyler and Matthew play one of Ty’s new videogames. Bandit is curled up behind my legs, clearly also wiped out from all the day’s activity.

I’m drifting in and out, and when I hear Tyler and Matthew talking right next to me, I’m not sure if it’s a dream or not.

“But when does the baby come out?” Tyler asks quietly. I keep my eyes closed, even as I feel Tyler gently poking at my belly. He giggles when Olivia kicks him.

I hear Matthew hum in thought as he tries to figure out an answer. “Well, you know how on Thanksgiving there’s that little button thing on the turkey before you cook it and when it’s done cooking, the little button pops up? I think we know the baby’s ready when Mommy’s bellybutton pops up like that.”

I bite the sides of my cheeks against laughter as I feel Tyler start to poke my bellybutton experimentally.

“Will the baby want to play with me?”

“Maybe not when she’s first born,” Matthew explains, “but eventually, when she’s a little older, she’ll want to play. And if you two are anything like your aunt Claire and me, you’ll be best friends.”

“Really?” Tyler asks excitedly.

“Yup,” Matthew replies. “And you’ll be her big brother, which means you get to look out for her and teach her things. Your mom will need some help with the baby—feeding her and everything... Think you can help out?”

I can almost hear the air move when Tyler frantically nods his head in answer. “Yeah. I can do that.”

“Good,” Matthew says, a smile evident in his voice. “Did you have a good birthday?”

“It was awesome. Did you see all the Batman stuff I got?”

“I did...” At this point, I drift off again and it’s only when Matthew gently shakes my shoulder that I wake up and open my eyes.

“Hi,” I say drowsily, smiling at him.

He smiles back. “Hi yourself. Enjoy your nap?”

I nod. “I did actually. Though I’m really hoping I imagined that discussion with Tyler about my bellybutton popping like a turkey timer when the baby’s ready to be born.”

He chuckles. “What was I supposed to tell him? He wanted to know why your bellybutton looked funny.”

I make a noise to protest. “My bellybutton does not look funny!”

He raises an eyebrow at him. “If you could see it, you wouldn’t say that.”

I try hitting him in the arm, but he backs away, laughing. “You’re such an ass,” I tell him, grinning. “Though I have to admit it was pretty adorable.”

“Of course it was,” he says cockily. “It was me and my son. We’re always adorable.”

I choose to not respond to his statement. “Did you enjoy the party despite the clowns?” I bite my lip against a laugh when he shudders.

“Yes, it was a wonderful party,” he responds, ignoring my comment about clowns. “Tyler had a blast.”

“He did,” I agree. “I think a lot of that had to do with you being there.”

He gives me a slow smile, looking as though my words were the most amazing thing he’s ever heard in his life. “I’m glad I was there, too,” he says quietly. “And speaking of... I have something for you. Stay here a second.”

Raising my eyebrow at him, I watch in confusion as he goes upstairs, returning a minute or two later holding a blank white envelope as he sits beside me again. He helps me into a sitting position and hands me the envelope. “What’s this?” I ask.