Young Revelations (Young Series) (28 page)

She can’t speak. Tyler’s head is turned towards her, his gaze locked on her without hope of it moving elsewhere anytime soon. I stand and walk around to kneel beside her so I can clearly see the bright blue eye of my son.

“And you were worried he wouldn’t know you,” I breathe against her ear. There’s no doubt in my mind right now that the reason Tyler won’t look anywhere else is because he’s found his mother.

She nods faintly as tears stream down her face.

It’s another hour, but Tyler’s left eye finally opens as well and I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight in my life. Now that he’s learned a new trick, Tyler seems to take in his surroundings as much as he can. His little head moves all around, eyes wide.

Two weeks after Tyler opened his eyes, we were finally allowed to hold him. When we were told, I thought Samantha was going to collapse. We both went in nervous as can be. What if we did it wrong and hurt him? What if he didn’t want us holding him? What if we dropped him?

We sit together as Mary takes Tyler out of the incubator and hands him to Samantha first. The moment he’s in her arms, I know she was made for this. Despite her nerves, she instinctively knows how to hold him and she brings him close to her face so she can place a tiny kiss on his forehead. At that, Tyler’s little mouth puckers. Mary tells us it’s a natural reaction for a baby to do this the very moment he senses his mother’s presence. He’s so small. Maybe the size of a football. I scoot a little closer and tentatively reach out a finger to touch his cheek. His eyes snap open at the sensation and lock on me.

Another two weeks pass marking Tyler’s second month of birth. And we’ve arrived at another milestone. I’ve apparently arrived just in time for a diaper changing and upon seeing me, Mary rushes over and grabs my hand, pulling me away from Samantha. “Might as well get in your practice now,” she tells me sternly.

I look between her and Samantha, having never changed a diaper in my life. Samantha is silently laughing at me as she watches. I glare at her which only amuses her more. “Actually, I thought I’d let Sam take care of the diaper changing,” I say.

“Not a chance,” she shoots back, grinning. “Big bad Matthew Young can’t even change his son’s diaper. Oh, I cannot wait to tell everyone.”

I raise an eyebrow at her. “Who are you and what have you done with my sweet, loving, supportive wife?” I grumble.

“Oh, grow a pair,” Mary tells me sternly, smacking me in the chest with a diaper. “You’re going to have to learn sometime.”

Rolling my eyes at the unsupportive women surrounding me, I resign myself to my fate. Of course I can’t keep the scowl on my face when I look down and find Tyler looking back at me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s the only one in the room that has any sympathy for my current predicament. When I realize no one is going to instruct me on what to do, I reach in and undo the Velcro tabs of his diaper and carefully pull away the flap… Then promptly groan in disgust. Seriously. How is it possible for something so freaking small to produce something like
that
? Samantha is giggling beside me at my reaction as I try and figure out what to do next. She takes pity on me and places a box of baby wipes beside Tyler, instructing me on which direction to wipe and how to hold up his legs to get everything. Once that’s done, she reaches over and expertly wraps the soiled wipes in the diaper and closes it up, dropping it into a trash bin beside her. Feeling a little more confident now that I’ve gotten this far, I place the diaper beneath Tyler, though it takes me a minute to ensure it’s on the right way. Just before lift the front flap to cover him, a stream of warm liquid hits me in the face. I drop the diaper out of instinct, which is apparently the wrong reaction since the stream travels from my face to my chest before finally trickling off to nothing. Samantha is doubled over laughing and Mary is shaking in her own laughter as she hands me a couple baby wipes and a towel.

Glaring not so playfully at both of them, I return my attention to Tyler determined to get this done before he has a chance to reload his bladder. “Seriously not cool, son,” I tell him sternly. “You’re supposed to be on my side. Not theirs.”

I pull the tabs around to hold the diaper shut and am feeling pretty damn proud of myself. Until I pick Tyler up and watch as his diaper slides off. Samantha is laughing again as I lay Tyler down. “You think you can do a better job?” I challenge her.

She has a cocky expression on her face. “In my sleep,” she tells me
, using her hip to nudge me out of the way.

I watch with growing annoyance as she does in thirty seconds what has taken me nearly five minutes. And when she picks Tyler up, the diaper stays. She looks over me with a huge, smug smile and though I try to look irritated with her gloating, I can’t, especially when
she walks over to me and hands me our son. It’s not the first time I’ve held him, but every time it’s still a bit of a shock. He’s still incredibly tiny, though the nurses assure us he’s growing like they hoped he would. I worry about doing something wrong and hurting him, though Samantha assures me he’s much less breakable than he seems. Regardless, every time someone offers him to me, I’m more than eager to take him. I sit down beside Samantha with Tyler in my arms and nothing else matters. This is where I want and need to be, with my family. And it shocks me how easily I’ve adapted to this role; it’s never been something I thought I’d want. Only a year ago, I was perfectly content being a bachelor with no rules. Now I can’t imagine going back to that.

Tyler’s little fists rise and I grin, sticking my pinky out for him to grab, which he does immediately, gripping my finger more tightly than I would think he could, being as small as he is. His eyes find mine and hold them, and in the next moment, my breath catches as his mouth contorts and he smiles at me. Beside me, I hear Samantha gasp as she leans closer for a better look.

“He knows you,” she whispers to me. “And he’s definitely got your smile.”

––––-o––––-

Present

“Matt, get your fucking head in the game!”

I’m startled out of my thoughts by Marcus’s voice and look around me, wondering when we got off the plane into a car. I’ve been distracted since walking out my front door and while he hasn’t called me on it before now, I know if I don’t focus he’s going to force me to stay behind when we go after Tyler. That’s not an option for me right now; I need to be there, not only to ensure my son is unhurt, but to exact my own revenge on the people who have done this to us. And really, what have I got to lose right now? Samantha is leaving me and at this particular moment, I honestly don’t see a way to change that. I’ve caused far too much damage in such a small time frame; she should leave me. She should run as far from me as she possibly can before I fuck her life up even more than I already have.

The car stops in a dark field and I wonder what’s going on. I look questioningly at Marcus as we get out. “We’ve only got a vague idea of where they’re hiding,” he tells me, walking towards a group of FBI agents. “We’re splitting into teams to cover the most ground. You’re with me and I swear to
God, Young, if you try ditching me this time, I will shoot you.”

“Noted,” I murmur. It’s only now that I’m taking in all the faces surrounding me and realize Leo isn’t anywhere to be seen. Then I realize I haven’t actually seen him since
we were in my office at home and looking at CCTV footage of Natalie and Frank. I should probably be very concerned about that, but all I feel is a cold sense of dread in the pit of my stomach. Everything has been building up to this moment, whatever this moment might be. Everything is going to change, and not necessarily for the better.

After a few minutes of discussing tactics, the big group of feds splits off and I’m a little surprised when I notice Marcus and I are a team of our own. Not that I mind; most other feds aren’t exactly fans of bringing along civilians on missions like this and all of them frown upon giving that civilian a gun, particularly when the civilian has very personal ties to the mission. I’m going to owe Marcus big for this and I’m a little concerned about how he might call in his favor.

“So Marone and Natalie are working together on this,” Marcus comments as we head into a wooded area. “What’s their connection?”

I sigh. “I’ve been wondering that myself,” I say darkly. “As far as I know they’ve never even met, though apparently when it comes to this mess, I don’t know much.”

“Any idea why she would turn on you like this?”

“No,” I say tightly. “I’d say she’s bitter about our breakup, but that was almost three years ago. Why wait this long to get back at me for that?”

“She could have been holding a grudge, biding her time until she worked out the ideal circumstances,” Marcus says matter-of-factly. “And I have to say, she picked some pretty ideal circumstances. I’ve known you for years, Matt, and granted I didn’t know you when you were married to Samantha, but I’ve never seen you like you are with her.”

I shoot him a glare. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I snap.

He holds his hands up in a surrendering gesture. “Just that you’re happy. I mean, I love my wife and I love my kids, but you practically worship those two. It’s nice to see.”

I sigh apologetically. “Well, I think you’re going to have to get used to seeing the old Matt after this is over,” I tell him miserably. He shoots me a questioning glance. “Samantha is leaving. Says she can’t take any of this anymore. Can’t say I really blame her.”
“And you’re just going to accept that?” Marcus asks incredulously. “Since when do you give up? I realize things haven’t been picture perfect for you lately, but you’ve dealt with worse.”

“I’m not sure I have much of a choice,” I mutter, my hand dropping into my pocket where Samantha’s ring and locket are still sitting. “No matter what I do, I keep fucking things up worse than before and she shouldn’t have to put up with my shit.”

Marcus only nods and we continue walking. “When this is over,” he tells me after several minutes, “I’m going to give you the name of my therapist.”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “You see a therapist?” I ask disbelievingly.

“After the shit I’ve seen in my career I’d be a raving lunatic if I didn’t,” he tells me. “Anyway, she’s good. You’d like her. Very straight shooter, doesn’t take anyone’s bullshit, least of all her patients’.”

“Couldn’t hurt,” I reply.

The night is getting much colder than anticipated and I suddenly wish I’d thought to grab my jacket on the way out the door, but remind myself I had other things on my mind at the time. “God, how fucking big is this place?” I ask rhetorically.

“Don’t think it matters,” Marcus says quietly, stopping in his tracks. I look over, finding him staring through the trees at something. I join him and see what’s captured his attention: there’s a small cabin set in a clearing of trees and we can see lights through the windows.

“Think that’s where they are?” I ask.

“Possibly,” Marcus murmurs, reaching for a set of binoculars in his jacket pocket and bringing it to his eyes. I wait as patiently as I can, wondering why he isn’t calling this in or why we’re not rushing the cabin. Whatever the answer, I hate just standing here, not doing a damn thing to find out if my son is inside. “I see Marone.”

Relief and anger war inside me—relief that we’ve probably found Tyler; anger that Marone has him. I’m about to ask what we’re waiting for when we hear rustling across the clearing, closer to the cabin. I narrow my eyes to see better and suddenly wish I hadn’t. It seems I’ve figured out where Leo’s taken off to, though I have no idea when he had opportunity to make the drive. Or the flight, since he has free access to my company’s jet hanger. “What’s he doing?” I ask.

Marcus shakes his head and we both watch as Leo creeps around the side of the cabin, his hand reaching into his jacket as he peeks into the windows. “He has a gun,” Marcus informs me quietly.

I can only nod, hoping like hell this isn’t what I think it is. I really don’t think I could stand losing my best friend tonight too. The cabin door opens and someone pokes their head out. I know without having to look through Marcus’s binoculars it’s Natalie. She steps out onto the covered porch, looking around until Leo comes around the corner. Marcus hands me his binoculars without me having to ask and I put them to my eyes in time to see Natalie smile at Leo and mouth something to him. He drops his hand from his jacket and he returns the smile, confirming without a doubt my suspicions. “Goddammit, Leo,” I whisper, dropping the binoculars from my eyes.

“Do you need to turn back?” Marcus asks me seriously. “This isn’t the time for mourning friendships. We need to get your son.”

“No, I’m good,” I lie, my jaw tensing. I don’t remember another time I’ve felt this hurt and this angry and this betrayed all at the same time towards one person. “What’s the plan?”

Marcus opens his mouth as the door opens again and Frank steps out onto the porch to speak with Natalie and Leo, patting my former best friend on the back and grinning at him. He starts to usher the other two inside and does what looks to be a casual scan of the area, lingering on where Marcus and I are standing a little too long for my comfort. We’re both standing stock still until Frank’s gaze passes us and we’re certain we haven’t been seen. They all go inside and shut the door again, and I look over to Marcus for guidance. I assume we’re going to wait on backup, since we’re outnumbered three to two. That doesn’t seem to be his plan, however; he reaches behind him, beneath his jacket for a handgun, quickly checks the chamber, turns off the safety, and hands it to me before reaching for another attached to his hip.