Young Truths (Young Series) (37 page)

I swallow hard, knowing I have to
get my next sentence out regardless of how much it hurts to acknowledge it. “And if she’s not?” I whisper, looking in the backseat as well. “What if I was wrong and Tom really is her father?”

Matthew gently grasps my chin to turn me back towards him. “If that’s the case,” he says quietly, “it won’t make a lick of difference to me. I couldn’t care less if she’s his biologically; she’s still mine, Samantha. And I’m not going anywhere so for the love of God, get that vulnerable look off your face. You’re scaring yourself over something that doesn’t matter. But you know what? I know she’s not his.”

“How?” I breathe.

“Intuition,” he responds without hesitance. “I’ve looked in that little girl’s eyes and I just
know
. I know that as certainly as I know Tyler is my son and you are the love of my life.”

The only way I can think of in response to that is to pull him closer and kiss him. He returns the kiss eagerly, groaning as his tongue traces my lips. And then he pulls away far, too soon. “You taste like heaven,” he tells me, smiling, “and I will happily continue this discussion later, but our son is making his way to the car and I’d hate to embarrass him in front of his entire school by his parents’ disgusting public display of affection.”

“Disgusting, huh?” I shoot back, trying to hold back a grin. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Laughing, he gets out of the car to intercept Tyler. When he gets back into the driver’s seat, it’s like we never received the letter from Tom at all. On the way home, he and Tyler discuss what we’re going to do that evening for dinner, and for a few hours, I can pretend the drama in our lives doesn’t exist and we’re just a normal family. As much as I enjoy it, though, I know it won’t last.

Groaning in satisfaction, I roll onto my back, pulling my wife with me and holding her against me. The evening went well, all things considered, and I think I’d do just about anything to keep Samantha in this frame of mind. She doesn’t need this right now, or ever, and I hate that someone she considered a very dear friend
is making her doubt what she and I both believe to be one of the best things to ever happen to us. I meant what I said to her about it not mattering if Saunders turned out to be Olivia’s biological father. And I also meant what I said about knowing he isn’t. As much as I don’t want to put Samantha or Olivia through the process of determining paternity, I can’t help but think it’s our only option. Once this passes, I’ll be having a very short talk with Saunders about never contacting Samantha again if he values his life even in the slightest.

And speaking of things that threaten my family, I still need to discuss Reilly with her. The last thing I need is for her to remain clueless
about what a creepy piece of shit he’s turning out to be and for something to happen to her at his hands. I wouldn’t hesitate to destroy him and everything about him if he hurt her.

“I hate to break up our post-coital blissful haze,” I murmur, rubbing her back as she nuzzles into my chest, “but something else came up today that we need to talk about.”

She props her chin up on my shoulder. “Is this something we really want to discuss in bed or should we go downstairs?” she asks.

I snort a laugh. “It’s something I don’t want to discuss at all, but if it will make you feel better, we can go downstairs. I’m thirsty, anyway.”

Immediately, I regret my decision to talk as Samantha wraps herself in a robe, then sends me an amused glance and mutters something about how I should wipe the drool off my chin. Without thinking, I lift a hand to do just that and I’m rewarded with her giggle as she heads out of our room and down the hall to check on the kids. I spend my walk downstairs trying to work out how this conversation will go without it sounding like I’m just being an asshole by wanting to keep Samantha from her friend. Unfortunately for me, I know that’s how she will react no matter how I phrase it. My only option is to sit her down, tell her everything I know about Mark Reilly, and everything I suspect, and hope she trusts me enough to hear me out.

“You look scared,” she comments, passing me to sit beside me on the couch. “Or nervous. What’s wrong?”

I take a deep breath, then her hand. “Before I tell you, I need you to know I’m not just saying this because I’m an insecure husband who doesn’t trust his wife or doesn’t want her spending time with anybody but him. You know I’ve never been that guy nor would you ever allow me to be. I’m telling you this because I love you more than I could ever express and if anything were to happen and I were to lose you due to something I could have had even a modicum of control over, I would be devastated. There is nothing in this world I wouldn’t do to keep you, Tyler, and Olivia safe, and if that makes me an asshole in your eyes, so be it.”

“Okay, now you’re making me nervous and scared,” she says, trying to keep her tone light. I can hear the underlying truth in her words. “Please, just tell me.”

I nod, turning to face her fully and focus my gaze on her wedding and engagement rings. “It’s about Mark Reilly,” I begin carefully, feeling her body tense at my words. She’s barely holding back her exasperation and it’s only going to get worse from here. “It’s no secret that I can’t stand the guy, don’t trust him, and I would feel so much better if he moved to the other side of the planet never to be seen or heard from again. I’ve been trying so hard to accept your friendship with him because you asked me to. The truth is, I trust you more than anybody else in my life, and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt you would never do anything to compromise our relationship, but I never trusted him. While you were in the hospital from the poisoning, any chance that he and I might ever get along was fucking shattered.”

Her brow furrowed. “Why, what happened while I was in the hospital?” she asks almost reluctantly.

“Were you aware that Mark and Jessica broke up?” I ask.

“Yes,” she answers immediately. “Mark said she broke up with him because he cancelled his plans to visit to her parents when Bonnie was getting sicker.”

I raise an eyebrow. “That’s what he told you?” I reply dully. “Let me tell you something about Jessica Mills: She is the last person in the world who would break up with somebody because a member of their family is on death’s doorstep. In all the time I’ve known her, she’s never been the type to pull shit like that.”

“You act like the two of you have talked about her relationship with Mark,” she comments.

“We did,” I reply. “Briefly, at the hospital. She came to find me in your room and told me a few things. She was worried about you and your friendship with Mark, and after hearing what she had to say, I agree with her.”

“What did she say?” Samantha asks nervously.

I take another deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Firstly, the reason they broke up had nothing to do with Bonnie aside from the fact that she was the excuse Mark used to get out of visiting Jessica’s family. She says the reason she broke up with him is because Mark seems to be obsessed with you. He’s constantly talking about you, wondering how you are, where you are, what you’re doing, worrying about you... She thinks he’s in love with you. It’s a little worse than that, though; she says she found a box underneath his bed stuffed with photos of you—surveillance-type photos. I haven’t seen them myself, of course, but from what Jessica described they resemble the ones sent to us on our wedding day.”

She’s shaking her head slowly, trying to process my words. “That’s insane,” she breathes. “Why the hell would he have a box of photos of me?”

“That’s what I want to know. If it’s true, he’s got some serious explaining to do. I’m still waiting on more information before I confront him.”

“You said firstly. I assume there’s more?”

I nod. “Yes,” I tell her. “The day you and Olivia came home from the hospital, the same day I found Lucy in the lake, Claire tried telling me something and I blew her off at the time. She overheard a phone conversation of Mark’s. He was right outside your room, telling whoever he was talking to that it wasn’t a good time and that the birth had been rough. When she asked him about it, he claimed he’d been speaking to Jessica, but Jessica told me she hadn’t talked to him and didn’t even know you’d gone into labor until she got back from her vacation.”

“He could have been talking about anybody,” she argues weakly.

I shrug. “Maybe, but it’s entirely too coincidental for me to just ignore it. Something else you need to know is that when I first found out about Mark, I ran a background check on him.” She rolls her eyes at me, but grins a little. “I didn’t find anything worrisome—I remember being pissed that he was such a fucking boy scout without even a speeding ticket to his name. Before we left for Iowa, I mentioned all this to Marcus and he took the liberty of running his own check, and he dropped by the office yesterday to tell me about his findings. How much do you know about Mark’s past? The reason he moved out here, namely.”

She sighs. “Not much,” she answers. “He said the reason he left California was because he needed a change, so he got in contact with
Bonnie and he moved out here to reconnect with her.”

“Honestly, I think Bonnie was an excuse to get away. Marcus found out the real reason Mark left California was because he was a bit of a magnet for lawsuits. At least three
from what Marcus was able to dig up—malpractice, wrongful deaths... He lost his license to practice medicine out there and somehow managed to cover it all up when he moved here. Obviously, I don’t know the details, but I trust Marcus’s judgment on this. Mark is bad news, Sam, and I can’t tell you how nervous it makes me knowing you spend time alone with him. Hell, the photos in the shoebox alone are enough for me to want to snap his neck. I knew he was too good to be true.”

Silence falls between us. Samantha seems to be having some trouble processing everything. I know how she feels—someone she trusted without question has the potential to be something terrible. I went through the same problems with Leo. How often had I considered him a possible suspect in everything that happened last summer—someone leaking Samantha’s and Tyler’s location; the plane crash... I disclaimed ever
y suspicion because he was my best friend and there was no way in hell he would ever turn on me. That came back to bite me in the ass and I’ll be damned if the same thing happens to Samantha. She’s been through enough already.

“You don’t want me to see him again.” The words come out as a statement rather than a question and so quietly that I nearly didn’t hear them. The look in her eyes is one of sadness and defeat. I hate that look.

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t,” I respond tentatively. “At least not until I have more information. If it turns out to be nothing but a slightly unhealthy infatuation, I will apologize on bended knee to the both of you, but I’m afraid it’s not.”

She nods slowly. “Okay.”

My eyebrows rise of their own accord. “Okay? That’s it? No argument or calling me a jealous asshole?”

“Would you prefer an argument or being called a jealous asshole?” I shake my head. “Then, okay. Matt, I trust your judgment and if you’re right about Mark, I don’t need that in my life. We’ve got enough to worry about right now and I’d prefer not to add anymore unnecessary drama to the mix. My only concern is what I’m supposed to tell him if he calls or comes by the bookstore to have lunch with me.”

I sigh. I’ve been having trouble with this one, too. It’s an awkward position to be in, suddenly blowing off a friend with little or no explanation—she can hardly tell him she knows about the shoebox beneath his bed, after all. “If you’d prefer, we can make it seem like I am the jealous asshole husband, put all the blame on me—I really don’t mind. Security around us is going to be a little tighter, especially after the poisoning, so you’ll never actually be completely alone. I know you hate it, but—”

“I understand,” she says quickly. “And I don’t mind so much anymore. Yes, it’s a bit annoying to have a babysitter, but until this is over, it’s a necessary annoyance.”

Grinning in relief, I pull on her hand until she’s in my lap. “Thank you,” I murmur, my lips resting against her forehead. “I’m sorry about all of this, Sam.”

She shakes her head, resting it on my shoulder. “Don’t be,” she replies. “I’m glad you told me rather than trying to solve it on your own.”

I chuckle. “I guess this means I’m growing up,” I say matter-of-factly, then frown in consideration. “I don’t think I like it.”

Rolling her eyes, she snuggles further against me and begins to relax. Neither of us moves or speaks anymore and it’s close to an hour before I realize my wife has fallen asleep against me, and carefully get to my feet to carry her back upstairs.

Since receiving the request for a paternity test from Tom, Danny has been handling all the legal logistics in making the arrangements. Today, a week after receiving the letter, Matthew and I make our way through the hospital. He’s carrying Olivia and it occurs to me only now that he’s hardly missed an opportunity to hold her in the last several days. It’s almost like he’s staking a claim over her, or perhaps trying to convince himself that no matter what happens after this test is completed, nothing will change how he looks at her. I’ve tried to avoid thinking about the possibility that the test doesn’t go our way and it really will change the dynamic in our family. Luckily, it only takes me thinking about Matthew’s beautiful words the day in the car outside Tyler’s school to convince myself he won’t allow anything to change.