Young Lies (Young Series Book 1) (39 page)

“Will you just fucking stop?” I snap. His eyes widen. “I am so fucking sick of people trying to tell me what’s best for me. Nobody seems to think I can handle things on my own, that I need constant looking after or I’m going to fall apart. Yes, you got us into some trouble, but we’re fine, Matt.”

“How can you even say that?” he asks with disgust I’m certain is directed inwardly. “Sam, you could have died and that would have been on my hands. How do you think I would have felt after that?”

“Probably about as good as I felt when I thought you’d died in a plane crash,” I tell him loudly. “I may not have been responsible for that, but it didn’t stop me being pissed off at myself for letting you leave in the first place. Not that anyone can stop the great Matthew Young once he’s got his mind set on something.”

He raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching. “The
great
Matthew Young, huh?” he muses. I glare at him and his amusement subsides. “I’m sorry I put you through that, Samantha. If I could change it...” His brow furrows and he shakes his head. “No, I wouldn’t have changed it. I did that to keep you and Tyler safe. If I was out of the way, the threat to you was lessened.”

“So what, instead of a kidnapping it would have been murdered in our sleep?” I ask sardonically. Immediately I know I’ve crossed a line and he’s gone from upset to livid in two seconds flat.

“That’s not funny,” he growls. “You think I like this situation? It’s been fucking miserable for me knowing you needed me and knowing I had to stay away for your own good. And seeing you at the cemetery the day of my memorial...”

The blood freezes in my veins. “You were there?” I whisper, my eyes wide.

He nods solemnly. “For the whole thing,” he says quietly, taking another few steps closer to me. “I wanted to see you, but you couldn’t know I was there or I would have gone right to you.”

“So you heard what I said?”

A small smile appears on his lips. “Every word,” he confirms. “You hated me, huh?”

“I still might,” I grumble without conviction. “I’m not really a fan of people eavesdropping on me.”

He snorts a laugh and I finally crack a smile, which encourages him to stand beside my bed, hands in his pockets to keep himself from touching me.

“How are you here?” I ask in a whisper. “And please don’t give me so
me smart-assed answer or tell me I’m not ready to hear it. You owe me this much, Matt.”

With an unidentifiable expression, he just watches me for several minutes as though he’s trying to figure out how much to tell me. Finally he sighs, runs his fingers through his hair causing it to stick straight up in some places, and sits down beside me. “When I told you I was flying out to Italy, that was true,” he says quietly, not quite meeting my gaze. “We had a buyer for the chip lined up, but the moment we touched ground, I got a phone call saying the buyer backed out. They claimed to not agree on the terms we presented even though they pounced on the opportunity almost the moment I stated them. I can’t prove it, since they’re being very tight-lipped about it, but I think this other group threatened them somehow. So of course that pissed me off. It got to the point I just wanted to end the entire thing and get back here. We flew to Moscow the next day and set up a meeting with this rogue gang posing as militia. Didn’t take them long to figure out I didn’t have the chip and I was trying to think of ways to shake them off the trail. When they told me they knew where you were, I told them the chip was back in Italy. The only plan I could come up with was to lead them back to Italy and somehow alert the authorities they were there and what they were after. I’ve got enough contacts all across the world that if I tell them someone’s after me, they don’t hesitate.”

“Why did Leo stay in Russia?” I blurt out.

Matthew’s brow furrows as though he’s wondering how I knew about that. “Because they were smart enough to realize Leo and I could take them down together. They kept Leo as insurance so I’d have no choice but to come back.”

“You went alone?”

He nods. “I knew they’d have people watching my every move and if I even sent out the slightest signal that something was off, they’d take out my friends first, then my family. So I went to the airfield where the jet was being kept, the pilot, Terry, and I performed the preflight check. I noticed something he didn’t and any other time I would have let it slide, but I was extra paranoid that day.”

“What was it?” I breathe; I’m hanging onto his every word like it’s a gripping television show or book that I need to know the end of.

He rolls his eyes, mostly at himself, I think. “A screw,” he says wryly. “One that didn’t match the others on an access panel to one of the engines. I know it sounds OCD, but I saw it and I couldn’t get it out of my head. For all I know it had nothing to do with why the plane went down. I could have boarded and taken my seat without another thought. I almost did.”

I swear my heart skips a beat. “Why would you do that?” I demand, surprised at the anger in my tone.

Apparently it surprises him as well. “I told you, if I was out of the way, the threat to you and Tyler was lessened. Not that it matters now. I should have said something. If I had, those people wouldn’t have died. But the second I set foot on the plane all I could think about was you and Tyler and how I needed to get back to you. I waited until the flight crew was occupied, snuck into the bathroom, and slipped off the plane through another access panel under the sink cabinet. It was dark enough nobody could see me and everyone was so preoccupied with the takeoff, I was able to just leave undetected. I hid out for a couple days at this shitty motel, made a few phone calls that couldn’t be tracked back to me, and waited until I could get home safely.”

“Leo called me,” I say quietly when Matthew finishes his explanation. “The day before the crash.”

Matthew freezes, slowly bringing his eyes up to meet mine for the first time in minutes. “What?” he breathes. I can’t quite figure out his expression, but it’s not good.

I nod, suddenly regretting saying anything about Leo. “Yeah. He was asking if you’d left anything with me to keep safe,” I say cautiously, watching his expression closely.

“And what did you tell him?” he asks evenly, barely moving his lips.

“The truth,” I respond. “You didn’t leave anything to keep safe, just the present in your jacket and I didn’t think that would be what he was referring to.”

He nods broodingly. “No, that wasn’t it,” he says quietly. “How long before you figured out the chip was in Tyler’s watch?”

“That same day. I thought it was broken and tried to take it from him. He’s never thrown a tantrum like that.” I swear there’s a shadow of a smirk on Matthew’s face. “Then he told me you said you’d fix it when you got back. And after Leo called, I connected the dots.” My annoyance at what he’d done returns. “And while we’re on that subject, the next time you want to give our son something that’s sought after by murderers and kidnappers, at least have the decency to mention it to me.”

He does smile this time, though it’s an apologetic, sheepish smile. “I should have told you,” he agrees. “But what would you have done if you’d known exactly what I put in that watch?” He doesn’t even give me time to answer. “As much as I wanted the damn thing gone, I didn’t want to see it smashed into a million pieces. And if you’d done that, I never would have found you and Tyler in time.”

I don’t know if it’s the painkillers or if he’s really not making sense, but I have no idea what he means. “How
did
you find us?” I ask.

“GPS tracker,” he tells me immediately. “In the watch with the chip. When I realized you were missing, I activated it and desperately hoped like hell you and Tyler hadn’t been separated and that Tyler was still wearing the watch.” He must see the shocked expression on my face because his own softens. “You didn’t actually think I’d leave the two of you without some way of keeping you safe, did you? I only trust human error so much and at some point I need to have some semblance of control for myself. This was how I was able to do that.”

Nodding faintly at his words, I suddenly remember Tyler speaking up while we were on that boat, showing me how his watch was blinking a light. That must have come from Matthew activating the GPS tracker. I don’t even want to imagine what would have happened if Matthew hadn’t been the overprotective, paranoid rich boy obsessed with his toys that he is. “Thank you.”

He blinks a couple times as though he doesn’t understand my words, or like he’s expecting me to shout at him for putting our son in danger. In all honesty, I probably should do some shouting, but that can wait. There’s still far too much Matthew and I need to discuss, and shouting won’t help either of us get through it. “You don’t have to thank me, Sam,” he says softly, finally reaching out for my uninjured hand. “And you can tell me all you want that this mess isn’t my fault, but we both know damn well it was. What matters is you’re okay.”

“Mostly,” I mutter.

He doesn’t ask me to elaborate; probably already knowing what’s on my mind. “Claire came to see me yesterday,” he says, running his thumb over the back of my hand gently.

I roll my eyes. “I asked her not to bother you,” I tell him. “I didn’t send her.”

The corner of his mouth lifts slightly. “I know you didn’t send her,” he tells me gently. “I will say, though, that if she wasn’t my baby sister, there is no way in hell I would put up with her shit. She barged into my office, scaring the shit out of both me and Leo, pretty much scared Leo out of the room, then proceeded to tell me what a total and complete douchebag I am.” He cocks his head from side to side a couple times. “Which is probably true.” The teasing edge leaves his body completely. “I owe you so many apologies for the way I’ve behaved.”

“Matt...” I need to stop him before he gets back to the self-deprecation or I’m going to get out of this bed, pain or not, and slap the shit out of him.

“Claire said some things I need to ask you about,” he says, acting like he didn’t hear me at all. When I try to pull my hand from his, he only holds it more tightly. “When I told you I would have no problem flying Saunders out here until you were recovered enough to fly back to Omaha, that was a bald-faced lie. If I have my way, I’ll never see that asshole again. The reason I said what I did was because you seemed to want him here. It doesn’t matter how much I hate the bastard, if he’s what you want, I can’t stand in the way of that.”

I swear to God if I had a free hand, I would find something to throw at his head. “Why in the hell would you think he’s what I want?” I ask in shock. “Matt, why do we have to keep having this discussion? I thought I was pretty clear on the matter; you’re the one I want. The only one I’ve ever wanted, and the only one I will ever want. I’m pretty sure you’ve said those exact words to me a hundred times, but anytime I try to repeat them to you, you seem to not hear me.”

Why does he look angry with me now? “Why would you do that to him?” he whispers, dropping my hand as though it burned him. “I don’t like the guy, but denying him the chance...” He stands suddenly and fists his hands in his hair. “Fuck, Samantha! That’s not fair.”

Maybe Matthew’s been taking hits off my pain medication drip. “What the hell are you talking about?” I ask him, trying not to laugh or cry. I’m not sure which at this point. He doesn’t answer, only paces around the room like a caged animal. And then it hits me: why he’s acting like this; why he’s so insistent that I go back to Tom; why he’s suddenly pissed off when I told him I have no desire to go back to Tom.

“Oh my
God,” I breathe, my eyes wide. “You’ve
got
to be kidding me.
Matthew James Young!
”

The use of his full name in my “mom voice” stops his pacing dead. He turns to look at me with wide eyes.

“You think the baby is Tom’s?” The absurdity of the question hits me immediately and if the circumstances were different, I’d probably be laughing hysterically. But given the look on his face right now, I know this is what’s been bothering him for days, why he’s avoided me like the plague. It’s why he’s so set on keeping his distance. And I don’t need him to answer. “Matt, please sit down.”

He hesitates for a fraction of a second, but finally does as he’s told, eyeing me warily.

“It’s not Tom’s.”

The number of emotions that flash across his face in a matter of seconds is almost staggering—anxiety, fear, excitement, disbelief, incredulous joy, shame, love. “What?” he breathes. I can only nod. He falls back into the chair as though someone’s pushed him, his eyes wide. “How do you know?” His question is filled with an almost desperate hope.

Sighing, I roll my eyes at myself, unable to believe I’m actually about to have this conversation with him. “Because Tom and I always used protection,” I say quietly, my eyes locked somewhere around my knee.

I don’t have to look up to know he’s confused. “Every time?” he asks skeptically.

Nodding, I chance a glance at him, finding him staring at me as though I have two heads. “Yes.”

“Why?”

I smile a little, looking away again. “A couple reasons,” I begin. “One is that Tom is incredibly old-fashioned and doesn’t believe in having a child out of wedlock.” Matt snorts sardonically. “And the other is because I didn’t want to take the risk.”

“Risk of what?”

“Having a child with someone who’s not you,” I mutter, feeling my face heating up. I have no idea why I’m suddenly embarrassed around Matthew of all people.