by Loyd, Sandy
When the light changed, her foot pushed the gas pedal. Hard. The car shot forward and sped up quickly. Her eyes kept checking the rearview mirror as she drove. One car in particular caught and held her attention. Her heartbeat increased.
Avery breathed out a relieved sigh the moment the car turned off, blocks from her house.
She pressed the garage door opener so that it was fully open when she pulled into her driveway at the rear of her Georgetown house. She didn’t wait to hit the button to lower the door. As it closed, she put the car in park, turned off the engine, and stared at the wall in front of her.
Maybe she should have gone to the police. No. Arlington was military jurisdiction and she’d rather avoid anything to do with the military, especially Colonel Williams. She didn’t fully trust him. Yet, what about the guy she’d kissed? Who was he?
Her hand went to her pocket, where she’d stashed his business card. She pulled it out and read: Jeffrey Sinclair—CEO of SPC Electronics. He said he wanted to talk to her. What was he doing at the gravesite, and not just tonight? She had no doubt he’d been there on those other nights she’d visited. And her biggest concern . . . who was shooting and why? Was she the target or was he?
Had to be him. And I got caught in some kind of crossfire.
Movement at the door separating the kitchen and the garage drew Avery’s attention and Terry poked her head out after opening it.
Her sister watched for several minutes before she stepped forward and smiled. “Everything okay?” she asked, opening the car door when Avery made no attempt to move.
Avery couldn’t help but notice how close the question was to what he had asked. As far as she was concerned, the answer hadn’t changed. She wondered if she’d ever be okay again. She sighed, tucked the card away, intending to research the company later, and climbed out of the car.
“Sure.” She returned the smile. Except it felt forced. Without meeting Terry’s curious gaze, she grabbed her purse and headed inside. She needed to think . . . analyze her behavior . . . before she told anyone about the events of the past hour, and that included her sister.
The minute Avery got through the door, her son rushed her, extracting a more natural grin. It was hard not to smile when Andy was around.
“Hey, kiddo!” She ruffled his hair before wrapping her arms around him as he hugged her waist. She walked farther into the kitchen without breaking contact. “You have school in the morning. Shouldn’t you be in bed?”
“I was too scared to go to bed alone. Aunt Terry said I could wait up for you.”
Avery hugged her son more fiercely. “Sorry I wasn’t here, honey.”
“That’s okay. But I’ll be able to sleep if you tuck me in.”
Andy didn’t wait for an answer, instead went skipping off toward his room with absolute conviction she would follow. Avery did, relieved he was so resilient, and wishing she could steal some of his resiliency. If only her mind worked like a child’s, then she could forget the past and bounce back, ready to tackle the next phase of her life. Like a mantle, the shadow of her deeds fell on her shoulders again, weighing her down like the heaviest stones.
When she entered her son’s room, Avery found him under the blanket, holding up a book and watching her with hopeful expectation. She grinned and strode toward him, unable to deny his unspoken request. Manipulated or not, she was a sucker for Andy’s sweet expression.
She slid in next to him, got comfortable, and pulled him closer. With him curled beside her, she opened the book and began reading. Ten minutes later, she unwound herself from his slumbering form, careful not to wake him.
Avery stood and stared at her son’s features, so much like Mike’s. Raw pain gripped her, held her in its clutches, and ripped her heart in two. Andy was the spitting image of her husband at the same age. She had the many pictures in albums to prove it. Was this her punishment . . . to be haunted by her actions every time she looked at her son . . . never to forget?
Why had she sent that letter? Why hadn’t she spoken up when she’d had the chance? Now it was too late. Would Andy forgive her if he knew? Avery sighed and tugged the blanket around him, more as a protective gesture than to keep him warm in the late May evening. She brushed a lock of dark hair off his forehead and smiled, still staring but no longer seeing her son’s face.
Of course he’d never learn of it. She’d gone to great lengths to make sure. That last letter to Mike was now safely locked away from prying eyes, as was his answer. For some perverse reason, she’d saved both and kept going back to them night after night, as if she needed the reminder to never make the same mistake again. Sometimes she wished the military hadn’t been so efficient in sending Mike’s belongings back to her.
Her hand went to the heart-shaped locket she wore around her neck. Fingering the sweet gift Mike had sent her, she realized the memento was another reminder. Would she ever be able to take it off and move forward?
A tear broke loose, then trekked down her face. Where had her marriage gone wrong? Why hadn’t she been able to love her husband enough for a lifetime? Now that her life was so jaggedly torn apart with his death, why did she wish she could undo what she’d done? Because your letter most likely caused his death.
Avery retreated from her son’s room.
In the kitchen, Terry stood at the stove and lifted the whistling teakettle. The piercing sound died instantly. No one spoke.
She approached the counter noting two inviting cups and tea bags. “Just what I need.”
“You looked a little frazzled.” Terry spent a moment pouring hot water over the bags. Once done, she set the teakettle down before handing her the cup. “Figured you could use my calming remedy before I take off.”
Avery’s lips curled at the edges, forming the genuine smile that wouldn’t come earlier. Terry’s answer to every problem lay in a cup of tea—that and the accompanying conversation.
“Thanks,” she murmured, lifting the cup to her lips. She leaned against the counter. Breathing in the aroma of the hot liquid, her smile increased. There might actually be some validity to the thinking, since she was feeling better.
“You shouldn’t be skulking in cemeteries so close to dark. They aren’t safe.”
Avery almost choked on her tea. “I was visiting my dead husband’s grave, not skulking. Besides, Arlington’s an exception.” No need to reveal how dangerous her visit had actually been.
The night’s events had proven Arlington National Cemetery wasn’t the safest place on earth, in fact had become a place to avoid, for now. Being shot at was enough to scare anyone senseless. She was safe and sound in her own kitchen. The danger had long passed. Now that the threat seemed far away, almost a distant memory, the idea somehow paled to the thought of being yanked to the ground by a stranger and then kissing him in a wild moment. A flush of heat streaked up her face. She quickly brought the tea closer to her mouth to camouflage her reaction. She and Terry shared secrets. Her sister even knew of Avery’s request for a divorce from her husband, something no one else knew except her lawyer. She couldn’t share this. Not yet.
If Terry caught wind of anything happening tonight, Avery would have to relay all the specifics . . . and quite frankly, she wasn’t exactly sure what those specifics entailed. She certainly wouldn’t be able to articulate so much as an inkling of what she’d been thinking. All she’d do is upset her sister. She had no idea why someone shot at her or even if she was the target.
Had to be him. As for the other? It was anyone’s guess why an unknown man had drawn such a strong response, especially when her husband, whom she’d idolized as a teen and felt the luckiest person in the world to marry, never had. It had to be some kind of awkward response to her situation. Guilt and grief mixed with fear, resulting in an emotional overload.
“You look like you’re feeling better. Your color’s back.” Terry shook her head and tsk-tsked like the older sister she was. “I just wish something more than a cemetery visit had caused it.”
&n
bsp; Avery’s laugh, an indisputable burst of humor absent since before Mike’s deployment to Afghanistan four months ago, felt natural. She took another long sip of tea. Then she exhaled, holding on to her smile. Maybe she was analyzing this from the wrong angle. Maybe the emotional overload from her near-death experience had been a good thing because suddenly she felt less encumbered. Freer. Something had happened tonight outside of the craziness of stray bullets and kissing strangers. Something inside her had changed, making her think of life beyond guilt.
She sighed. If only that were possible. She had no idea what the future held. All she knew was at that moment she felt . . . alive.
• • •
He’d begun tailing Avery Montgomery’s car on her way out of the cemetery, following her until a few blocks from her house where he’d turned off and had circled back. He now sat half a block away, watching the house through binoculars.
All was calm. Upstairs, a few lights burned, revealing several open windows. He did a visual of the dark yard and noted a couple of tall trees. One might provide the means to get inside. Due to the earlier incident at the cemetery, tonight wasn’t the time to try. She’d be wary and on her guard. He was thankful she hadn’t called military police. That would have caused major headaches for all involved.
He rolled his eyes, wondering how this fucking operation had derailed so far off its original track. He didn’t like putting innocent civilians at risk but the risk was necessary in this instance, according to his superiors. He started the car and pulled away from the curb.
He’d return at dawn and wait for an opportunity to search her house.
The Sin Factor – Book 1
Other Books by Sandy Loyd
Contemporary Romances:
THE CALIFORNIA SERIES
Winter Interlude – Book 1
Promises, Promises – Book 2
James – Book 3
A Quickstep to Romance – Book 4
The Promise of Tomorrow – Book 5
California Series – Books 1, 2, & 3
California Series – Books 2, 3, & 4
SECOND CHANCES SERIES
Tropical Spice – Book 1
Christmas Short Stories:
A Christmas Miracle
Contemporary/Time Travel/Historical:
TIMELESS SERIES
Time Will Tell – Book 1
Games – Book 2
Temptation – Book 3
Romantic Suspense:
DC BAD BOYS SERIES
The Sin Factor – Book 1
Raising The Stakes – Book 2
DC Bad Boys Series – Books 1 & 2
RUNNING SERIES
Running From Love
DEADLY SERIES
Deadly Misconceptions
STANDALONE BOOKS
A Matter Of Trust
Kicker’s Legacy
Shattered Dreams
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Title Page
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
About the Author
Excerpt from The Sin Factor
Other Books by Sandy Loyd
