Young Revelations (Young Series) (11 page)

Having no idea what to expect, I dial Claire’s number and take a big gulp of my water, suddenly wishing it was bourbon again—I doubt Marcus and Leo have left anything even remotely alcoholic in my room. It takes several rings, but my sister finally answers.

“What the hell? Didn’t you get my messages?” She and I are really going to have to discuss her phone etiquette and also her talking volume as it’s only making my headache worse.
“I was asleep,” I reply, aware that I’m slurring my words something terrible.

Claire pauses. “Are you drunk?” she asks incredulously.

“Hung over, actually,” I correct her.

She sighs heavily. “Dammit, Matt, I don’t need this shit right now.” It sounds as though she might be approaching tears.

“Claire, what’s going on?” I manage to ask. “Is Sam okay?”

I hear a shuddering breath on the other end of the line. “Samantha is in the hospital, Matt,” she says exhaustedly. “High blood pressure. They’re saying it’s stress-induced.”

This is not happening. Not right now. Not when I’m this far away and there is no possibility that I can get to her right now. I still don’t know how long we’re going to be here… And judging by the accusatory edge in my sister’s voice, it’s my fault. “The baby?” I choke out.

She sighs and for the first time, her tone softens slightly. “I don’t know yet,” she says. “I’m still waiting to hear anything.”

“Claire, nothing happened with Natalie and me,” I say, my tone on the very edge of begging her to believe me.

“I don’t care about that right now, Matt,” she says sharply. “You can deny it all you want, but we both saw the video. What do you think set off her blood pressure? And if something happens to either of them, it’s on you.”

I have no response for that. And even if I did manage to convince Claire that I haven’t cheated on Samantha, Samantha still saw the video and it still landed her in the hospital. I could lose her and my baby all at once. “Look, I’m going to try and get home, but—”

“No.”

The word is spoken so firmly it actually stops me. “What?”

“No, Matt. Don’t show up here. Not right now. You are the last person Samantha needs to see right now and I can’t guarantee I’m not going to beat the shit out of you if you do show up. Just stay where you are.”

“Claire, you don’t get to dictate what I do,” I snap heatedly. “This is my
family
. You can’t keep me away from them.”

“You should have thought of that before,” Claire shoots back. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to check in with Samantha’s doctors. I’ll keep you updated.”

“FUCK!” Before I could even open my mouth, she’d hung up on me. Dropping the phone beside me on the bed, I look up to find Leo standing in my doorway looking concerned. “Samantha’s in the hospital.”

Surprise registers on Leo’s face briefly. “Do you want me to go back? Keep an eye on things?” he asks.

I shake my head. “No. I doubt Claire would let you within a mile of Samantha right now. I’m not even welcome,” I add bitterly. “What the fuck is going on, Leo? Who hates me so much that they’re trying to ruin my life?”

He doesn’t seem to have an answer to that, not that I expected one. “We’ll figure it out, Matt,” he assures me.

I nod desolately. “I need to make some phone calls,” I murmur to him, reaching for my phone. “If I can’t be there, she’s going to have the best doctors in the fucking state.” Without waiting for him to respond, I start dialing numbers and when the first contact picks up, I notice Leo is gone.

––––-o––––-

When I come to, I feel horrible. My head is pounding. The world is spinning. I feel lightheaded. Managing to open my eyes, I inwardly groan as I recognize my surroundings to be those of a hospital room. Again. One would think I’ve had enough hospital visits in the last couple months to last me the rest of my life. I hadn’t planned on returning to a hospital until March at the earliest when I went into labor.

So why the hell am I here now?

My vision clears slightly and I see a man in a white doctor’s coat at the foot of my bed looking at a chart. In my hazy state, all I register is his short, slightly curly brown hair, very blue eyes, and that he’s incredibly attractive. He’s tall. Taller than Matthew. And from what I can tell, he’s broad chested and broad shouldered. I wonder if he works out…

Suddenly, the man’s blue eyes snap up to mine and I think I can make out a small smile on his face. I flush deeply, wondering if I said that last sentence out loud. “Well, hello, Samantha,” he says, his voice friendly and comforting. “It’s good to see you awake finally.”

“Where am I?” I ask, wincing at the croakiness of my voice.

“You’re in the hospital,” he informs me. “Your blood pressure skyrocketed and your sister-in-law got you here.”

“Oh,” I respond. “Am I okay?” It seems like a lame question and it only takes a second to find a more important one. “Is my baby okay?”

The doctor—or I assume he’s a doctor—walks closer and puts a hand on my shoulder to push me back to onto the bed. “Your baby is perfectly fine,” he says reassuringly, his hand remaining on my shoulder. “As sudden as the symptoms were, the fact that you were brought here immediately was the saving grace for both of you.”

Whether it’s his words or his hand on my shoulder, I’m not sure, but I’m comforted. “Who are you?” I ask quietly.

He smiles, his eyes crinkling as he does. “Dr. Reilly,” he says. “I was the attending physician when you were brought in and I’ve taken the lead in your case.”

“Where’s Claire?”

“Your sister-in-law?” he checks, looking down at my chart again. I nod. “She’s down the hall in a waiting room. I wanted to check in on you before I sent her in. Would you like to see her?” I nod again. “Only for a little while. We don’t need you getting worked up again and you need your rest. Understood?”

I smile a little at his sternness, even though his sparkling eyes belay his tone. “Understood.” I manage to subdue the odd urge to pinkie swear. Dr. Reilly winks one of his blue eyes, pats my foot as he passes me, and heads out of the room.

In the few minutes between Dr. Reilly’s departure and Claire’s appearance, I recall the events that probably led me to this hospital room. The video of Matthew and Natalie. I didn’t even give myself time to consider the source of the video before calling Claire and I sure as hell didn’t call Matthew. I saw enough to know I’ve been a fool to believe I’m what he wants. This was never something I thought he would do to me. Despite our arguments and our stubbornness and everything else in the world conspiring against us from the very beginning, I never considered even for a second that he would cheat on me. I trusted him implicitly, even knowing that wherever he goes and whatever he does, he has women throwing themselves at him. How blind have I been? Was he doing this when we were married as well?

Part of me wants to speak to him, to hear his side of the story and for him to justify this behavior, even though I know there is no possible justification for any of this. I want to hear him deny it and to tell me there is more to the story than what I know. I want to hear him tell me he loves me and only me, and that he’d never hurt me.

Wiping at my eyes, I hear the door to my room open and see Claire entering. Her steps falter slightly when she sees I’m crying, but she plasters a smile on her face. “If that’s your doctor,” she says, sitting in the chair beside my bed, “I think I’m going to suddenly start feeling very ill.”

I choke out a laugh.

“Seriously,” she insists. “I have never had a doctor that looks like him. All my doctors are geriatric, have horribly bad breath, or are just plain creepy. How’d you get lucky?”

I roll my eyes at her. “I’m not sure how lucky I am,” I mutter. “Are you forgetting what happened to get me here?”

Her expression sobers. “No, I haven’t,” she says softly, reaching for my hand. “But we need to focus on getting you feeling better so you can get home.”

“Where’s Tyler?”

“With Bonnie,” she tells me. “We didn’t see much point in making him miss school. If you’re not home by the weekend, Danny’s going to pick him up and take him back to our place.” I nod. “And since you’re apparently not going to ask, I’ve spoken to Matt. He knows you’re here. I think he considered taking the first flight back, but I told him to stay away for now. At least until you’re feeling better.”

Reluctantly, I agree with that decision. In any other situation, the only person I would want by my side is Matthew, but all things considered, even the mention of his name is enough to shoot my heart rate to alarming levels. It’s not good for me or the baby for him to be here right now. Besides, from what I understand about why he’s Germany, he doesn’t get to pick and choose when he leaves. He’s stuck there until he’s either cleared on all charges or implicated in a crime.

Claire stays with me another half hour or so before a nurse comes in to tell her I need my rest and she can come back tomorrow. Rolling her eyes, she nods, gives me a hug, and promises to be back in the morning. She’s barely out the door before I’m asleep again. Hopefully the next time I wake, I’ll realize this is all one big, horrible nightmare…

One of the biggest downside about hospital stays is that the food never improves. The eggs are powdered, the bacon is tasteless, and the toast is cold. Last night when I spoke to Claire I complained about my dinner and she promised delivery for lunch and dinner. And as soon as I hung up with her, I turned my phone off and put it back in the drawer of the bedside table. In order to keep my stress levels down as per Dr. Reilly’s orders, Claire had the telephone in my room removed and has conspired with my doctor to keep the nurses and other hospital workers from delivering phone calls or messages to me that don’t come directly from Claire herself. This happened yesterday afternoon after my phone rang while Claire was visiting. She answered and it only took a second to realize who had called. The nurses actually heard her shouting and cursing and rushed in to see if I was okay. They then threatened that if Claire didn’t calm down, she’d have to leave. Claire had hung up on Matthew and when Dr. Reilly popped in to check on me, she suggested having the phone removed to decrease my stress levels.

I’d tried telling her it was fine and that I could handle Matthew, but the moment Dr. Reilly realized the reason for my high stress levels, he jumped on the bandwagon with Claire. I feel like I’m in prison right now, only being allowed to turn on my cell phone when I want to make a phone call. On some level, I can understand where they’re coming from. Matthew is the source of my stress and high blood pressure and the reason I’m here in the first place. Of course it makes sense to cut out the person inducing my stress. After all, he’s the reason I’m here at all—well, him and Natalie. Just thinking the bitch’s name causes my blood to boil again.

And then there was Dr. Reilly’s warning this afternoon as my non-hospital lunch was delivered. He smirked at the sight of the takeout containers as he took a seat beside my bed. “While your condition hasn’t reached what it was when you were brought in,” he began, “it really won’t take much to send you right back to that. The number one priority for you is to maintain calmness and to keep away the things that trigger your stress. Your sister-in-law insists phone calls might set you off again; I’d prefer to take her at her word until we get your health under control. You’re not the only person to be concerned about, and your first priority should be your child’s well-being.”

I nodded in agreement, but sighed sadly at the hidden meaning of his words. It should be a no-brainer to keep Matthew away from me right now; unfortunately, as angry and hurt as I am with him and his actions, he’s the only one I want at my side. Dr. Reilly is right, though: my child is most important and if keeping her healthy means cutting her father out of my life for the time being, that’s what I have to do. I’m trying hard to remind myself of the things I saw on that video and when I do, though it does raise my blood pressure, it also acts to keep me resolute in what I have to do. He’s hurt me more than anybody else in my life could, even after I spent so many years believing he would never hurt me and that I had been the one dealing out the hurt when I left him. That heartbreak had nothing on what I feel right now.

Claire has been beyond supportive about all of this. She’s nearly as pissed off as I am about what Matthew’s done and without her, I don’t think I would have had the strength to maintain radio silence with Matthew. I appreciate her more than she could know and I’ve always considered the day I met her to be one of the best days of my life. Granted, there were other people with us, some of whom had a less than warm reception of me, but she is part of the reason I didn’t turn tail and run as far as I could from Matthew and his family the second I had the chance…

––––-o––––-

Seven years, six months ago…

I’ve never been so nervous about something in my life. Beside me, in the driver’s seat, Matthew is completely at ease as he drives us down the highway, humming along to the radio and holding onto my hand as it rests on his thigh. Only a week after moving across the country to live with my boyfriend, I’m meeting his family for the first time. Not just his parents, which would be terrifying on its own, but all three of his sisters as well. From what I know of them, Matthew isn’t particularly close with his father or older sisters, but adores his younger sister, who is around my age, and his mother. Last night, I jokingly referred to him as a mama’s boy. I’m still not entirely certain whether he was genuinely annoyed or not, but the result was him tackling me to the couch and tickling me for ten minutes while I begged for mercy. Granted, that led to much more pleasurable activities, even though I still flinch anytime his fingers approach my ribs…

With any luck, his family is a lot like him—easygoing, welcoming, and friendly. He can put me at ease with just a smile. My biggest fear, though, is that his family will take one look at me and determine I’m not worthy of him; that I’m not cultured or sophisticated and I certainly don’t come from money. Even though Matthew’s father was a career naval officer, he’s got his own very successful business. I want them to like me and I’ve never been the sort of person to seek acceptance from anybody. If someone doesn’t like me, that’s their problem. But considering my suspicions that I’m falling very deeply in love with the man sitting beside me, if I’m not already completely there, I think it would crush me if his family doesn’t approve of me.

Far sooner than what I’m prepared for, Matthew is parking the car beside a marina and turns to me, lifting my hand to his lips to press kisses to my fingers. I’m immediately warmed by his touch. “Don’t be nervous,” he tells me softly after turning off the car. “They’re going to adore you, just like I do.”

As always when he says something like that, I’m instantly calmed and feel like I can do anything. “And if they don’t?” I manage to squeak through the lump in my throat.

He raises an eyebrow and cocks his head slightly at me, his green eyes shining brightly at me. “Then they’re morons,” he says simply. “And if you’re worried that their possible negative opinion might affect how I feel about you, you’re dead wrong. I love my family, but they have no say in who I’m with.”

“But don’t they think it’s a little odd that I’ve moved out here with you after only knowing you a couple of months?” I argue.

“Do you think it’s odd?” he retorts.

“A little, yeah,” I answer. He laughs a little. “I just don’t want people to think I’m taking advantage of you or something.”

He sighs. “Samantha, you’re not taking advantage of me in any way, shape, or form. If anyone’s taking advantage, it’s me. You are a beautiful, smart, funny, incredible woman and you could do so much better than me. But for some reason, I’ve managed to completely luck out in gaining your attention and affections. I don’t care what other people think. As long as I’ve got you, I don’t need anything else.”

From any other person, this might sound cheesy, but coming from Matthew, it means the world to me. I have no idea how to respond, so I do the only thing that makes any sense: I lean over the center console and kiss him like my life depends on it. When we eventually part, he’s breathing rapidly and his eyes are glossed over as they open.

“Another one of those and we’ll be going home,” he warns me huskily. I bite my lip, considering my options. If I’d known it’d be that easy to avoid this outing, I would have done this before we’d left. He rolls his eyes at my expression, grinning. “Come on, it won’t be that bad.”

With that, we get out of the car. He reaches into the backseat for a bag that contains our bathing suits, since there’s a good chance we’ll be swimming today, and a cooler with a mixture of beers and soda. He leads us down the marina towards the very end where I can see a large yacht tethered to one of the docks. It’s huge. If I had to guess, it’s somewhere around 40-feet long and beautiful. The outside is completely white with wooden trim along the railings. From what I can tell, there are at least three levels on the yacht, probably one below as well. Beach loungers are arranged on the main deck and beneath an awning I can make out what looks to be a bar.

“My dad doesn’t do subtle,” Matthew tells me wryly, grinning. “Ever been on one of these?”

I shake my head. Until Matthew took me out on his boat at home, I’d never been on one of
those
either. Not many opportunities for boating in the middle of Iowa.

“You’ll love it,” he assures me. As we reach the ramp up to the boat, I see two people appear from what I assume to be below deck. They’re an older couple. The man is tall with perfectly combed gray hair. His eyes that nearly match are stern and don’t seem to miss a single thing around him. He’s definitely someone I wouldn’t want to cross. The woman looks incredibly friendly with long blonde hair and bright eyes.

She sees us first. “There you are!” she calls out, beaming.

I whimper slightly and freeze in place. Matthew smirks a little at me to encourage me to move. “I know we’re not late,” Matthew calls back. “The girls aren’t even here yet.”

“No, but you have our lunch,” the man shoots back, his eyes finding me immediately. “Well, who’s this?”

Matthew runs up the ramp to drop off the cooler before returning for me, taking my hand and giving me a discreet wink as he leads me up to the boat. “Mom, Dad, this is Samantha,” he says. “Samantha, my parents Paul and Diane.”

Diane immediately comes forward and pulls me into a hug telling me that Matthew has told them so much about me and how nice is it to finally meet me. Paul is a little more standoffish, opting for a handshake rather than full body contact like his wife. Matthew is beaming at all three of us, slipping an arm around my waist and pulling me close. We chat for a few minutes and I can’t help but get the distinct impression Paul Young doesn’t like me. Diane’s already told me to call her by her first name; Paul hasn’t indicated I should do the same with him. Maybe I’m being a little paranoid or overreacting, but I swear I see his lip curl whenever Matthew is even the slightest bit of affectionate towards me.

Not much later, two tall blonde women appear at the top of the boat ramp. I swear, they could be twins as they’re almost identically dressed, carrying matching purses, and give off the same air of snootiness. They’re introduced to me as Elizabeth and Holly, Matthew’s oldest sisters, though to be honest, I couldn’t tell you which one was which. Each of them hold my hand for the very briefest of seconds before releasing it and discreetly wiping their fingers on their dresses as though I’m carrying some sort of contagious disease.

To my dismay, Matthew goes off with his father to do something, leaving me with his mother and sisters. They’re all very inquisitive about me. Where I’m from. What I did for fun. What I might do here in New York. Whether there are any decent shopping malls in the farms of Iowa. The last one is directed from Holly; I figured out to tell the two sisters apart is that Holly has blue eyes while Elizabeth has green. When I inform them the closest shopping center is a town over and revolves around a Wal-Mart, I think they might faint. Clearly they’ve never stepped foot in a Wal-Mart and the thought of doing is despicable.

Diane, however, doesn’t seem to have such predilections; she seems genuinely interested in anything I share with her and asks me question after question. Luckily for me, the interrogation ends when Matthew and his father return from wherever they’ve been. Matthew makes a beeline for me and I wonder if I’m imagining the annoyance in his eyes as he walks away from his father. The moment our gazes meet, though, he’s smiling softly, all previous feelings long forgotten.

“Hope they weren’t too rough,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss against my forehead.

I shake my head minutely, my face heating up as I see his older sisters watching us with ill-disguised irritation in their eyes. “No, not at all,” I reassure him, pulling away. He raises a questioning eyebrow at me, but realizes I’m uncomfortable with our audience and smirks, sitting down beside me on a beach lounger.

Elizabeth shoots her sister a look, then turns to Matthew. “You’ll never guess who I saw the other day, Matt.”

“You’re probably right, Liz,” he retorts, playing with my fingers. “So why don’t you tell me.”

Elizabeth rolls her green eyes. “Lucy,” she says primly. Immediately I feel Matthew stiffen beside me and in the next second, tension radiates off his body in scorching hot waves. “She looked great. And she asked about you, said she misses you.”

“Did she,” Matthew mutters tersely, his eyes darting briefly towards me.

Diane is glaring daggers at her daughter who looks very pleased with herself. I have no idea what’s going on right now or who Lucy is that she sparks this sort of reaction from Matthew. Part of me wants to ask what’s going on, but judging by Matthew’s expression, that wouldn’t really be well-received at this point.

“Sam, would you like something to drink?” he asks me, his tone softening only very slightly. I nod uncertainly with the suspicion he wants to get me as far from his family as possible. He stands suddenly, taking my hand and leading me towards a kitchen area. As we pass, Diane gives me a very apologetic look that I return with a tight smile.

I’m getting the impression that Matthew is already regretting this outing as much as I was dreading it. “Are you okay?” I ask him as he retrieves a beer for himself and a coke for me.

He nods, taking a deep gulp of his drink. “I’m fine,” he assures me with a smile. “Please ignore my sisters. They think they’re amusing when in reality they’re annoying as hell.”

“Your mom seems nice,” I offer.

Chuckling, he nods in agreement. “She is,” he agrees. “And she likes you, just like I said she would.”