Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
WASHINGTON, D.C. – THIRTY HOURS EARLIER
“I don’t know what to say or why I’m even calling, but . . .” Sydney paused, contemplating what message to leave today.
She was on her third cup of coffee that afternoon and jittery, not her norm.
“Levi’s been closed off the last few weeks,” she finally went on. “Something’s bothering him, and he doesn’t want to talk about it.” Sitting on her king-sized bed, Sydney smoothed her palm over the gray waffle-weave cotton duvet cover, her latest forced purchase from Pottery Barn.
Her mother had popped down from New York for a quick and unexpected visit, and she’d insisted they spend a few hours shopping together. Not Sydney’s favorite thing to do by a long shot.
“Mom, you in there? I’m home from school.” When her son lightly tapped at the bedroom door, she ended the call, tossed the phone on the bed, and jumped up.
Clearing her throat to brush away the emotions besting her today, she walked over and opened the door. “How was school?” she asked, joining her son out in the hall on the second story of their home.
Levi shrugged. “It was school.” He attended a private school in Arlington, Virginia, where his father lived, less than twenty minutes away from her condo in D.C.
Sydney resisted the urge to reach out and brush the too-long strands of dark hair away from his face to see his eyes.
“I may go to Grady’s tonight instead of Dad’s. Maybe even stay at his place all weekend since you’ll be gone.”
Right. My trip. She was leaving for Tulum in the morning in hopes of recruiting a good friend of hers to join Falcon Falls Security, but she was also looking forward to two uninterrupted days of lounging beneath the sun with a cocktail in hand. “Well, that’s up to your dad since it’s his weekend with you.”
“He’s been busy, so he’ll be fine with it.” Levi turned, most likely on his way to hide in his bedroom to play video games. The norm lately, and she hated the distance growing between them. Working for Falcon required a lot of travel, which wasn’t ideal for a divorced mom of a teenager, so when she was home, she wanted to spend as much time with her son as possible. But he’d been avoiding her lately, and she had no idea why.
“What’s he been busy with? Work stuff?” Her ex worked at the Pentagon but never on the weekends, so she was curious as to what was taking him away from their son.
Levi faced her again, allowing his backpack to fall to the floor, but he kept one strap loose in his grip. Another shrug from him as a response meant he was keeping secrets from her, and damn, they had to do with his dad, didn’t they?
“When are you going to tell me what’s going on?” She leaned her shoulder against the wall, careful not to knock into one of the framed photos of her son.
She did her best to pull off casual and friendly. Less “warrior-like” since Levi liked to joke that she only had two modes: mom or fighter. And sometimes, weren’t they one and the same? Helping rid the world of evil also helped keep her son safe.
But her “fighter-warrior” mode also intimidated a lot of Levi’s friends, especially those of the opposite gender. Her son was handsome, smart, and kind. She couldn’t risk a girl, or anyone for that matter, taking advantage of him. His grandparents’ fortune ensured he was recognized as the richest kid in his school.
“Are you and Lucy okay? Did you break up?” She was one of the few girls who’d made it past all of Sydney’s grilling stages and hadn’t been scared away.
Levi shook his head. “No, Lucy and I are fine. Taking things slow.”
God, she didn’t want to know what “slow” meant for a thirteen-year-old boy, but she hoped he was at the hand-holding stage only and nothing more.
How old was she when she lost her virginity? Eighteen, right. “So, what is it? Please. I promise I won’t, um.”
Her son’s lips curled into a brief smile. A smile was promising, she supposed. A smile meant whatever was bothering him wasn’t earth-shattering. “Won’t what?” And when he spoke with a teasing tone, that helped her heart a little too.
It couldn’t be that bad since he was now brushing his fingers through his hair to expose his light green eyes, a match to her own. His dark hair, the opposite of her light blonde, was a gift from his biological dad. But his cheekbones and jawline, as well as eyes, were all hers.
“I’m . . . well, I’ll be okay.” He let go of the strap to his bag and narrowed the space between them. He was already taller than her. She was just over five-six, and her teenage son had stretched to nearly six feet practically overnight last summer. “It’s you I’m worried about.”
“Me?” She immediately shoved away from the wall. “Are you concerned about my work? I know leaving the family business last year was a big deal, and I?—”
“You’re much happier being a badass saving the world than you were working for Grandpa.” He gave her a shit-eating grin, likely knowing that she wouldn’t comment on his language when he was complimenting her. “I’m proud of you, Mom. No, that’s not what I, um . . .”
Ah, he was just like her sometimes. Had trouble spitting out his thoughts. And she didn’t want him to take after her in that respect.
Truth be told, he was one of the rare few who saw her loving and caring side. But then, Levi made it easy for her to be that person.
“I’m tough. Whatever it is you’re holding back, I can take it.” She tipped her head and reached for his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“You are tough, Mom. But you have a big heart. I don’t know why you keep that hidden from people.” He smiled. “Except me and Aunt Mya.”
Mya wasn’t technically family, but she was the closest thing to a sister for Sydney. It was Mya who Sydney hoped to recruit to Falcon Falls Security that weekend, and with any luck and some heavy persuasion, she’d get her way.
When Levi’s focus fell to the floor in her silence, he added, “I don’t think it’s my place to tell you. You should talk to Dad.”
Oh shit. And now she knew what was bothering him. But she wasn’t sure why that would be such a big deal for him. It wasn’t like his father hadn’t dated since they split. “It’s been four years. I know your dad sees other women. You don’t need to worry about me.” Or maybe it was because . . . “And if you like this woman he’s seeing, you don’t need to feel bad about that. I want you to like whoever your father ends up with. She’ll be in the house, so.” Her stomach did a little sickening flip at the thought of another woman helping raise her son, but it was a reality she’d eventually have to face.
“It’s who he’s dating that I’m not, well, happy about, and you might not be either,” he slowly spat out.
She did her best not to close her eyes and sink back into the painful memories of Seth’s affair four years ago. To think back to the night Levi caught his father making out with Sydney’s only other close friend at a holiday party. The year of therapy Levi went through after that night . . . damn Seth for that.
“ Her ?” Sydney kept her voice as steady as possible for the sake of her son, but internally, she was on fire.
Levi lifted his green eyes to meet hers. And the look there said it all. He found out because he caught them again, didn’t he? And she wanted to kill the son of a bitch for doing that to their son, again . After everything he’d put Levi through with that affair, he was back with her ?
Sydney’s fingers curled into her palms at her sides. No way did Seth know Levi had caught him with Alice. He would’ve speed-dialed Sydney to do damage control afterward. Offer her a briefing of the instance like she was a colleague at the Department of Defense.
He’d give her an AAR—after-action report—to detail what the hell had gone wrong, same as he’d done four years ago.
Try and talk his way past the disaster of his own making.
Alice. Her best friend. Her former best fucking friend.
Sydney, Alice, and Mya had been like sisters. Close-close friends. And since Mya was the youngest of them, really, Sydney had spent more time with Alice. Too much time, apparently. Because she fell for my husband.
Was it crazy she’d been more hurt by Alice’s betrayal than her husband’s? Because maybe Seth had been right, and her love for him wasn’t enough.
“Enough” had been his favorite word back then. Sydney hadn’t given him enough attention. Not enough sex. Not enough passion. Not enough love. And Alice had filled in for her.
But after the affair and Levi needing therapy, her ex ended things with Alice for his son’s sake. And she’d thought Alice moved back to New York.
Levi lifted his chin. “See, it’s that look in your eyes that has me worried.”
“I won’t hurt him.” Just in my head. “Or Alice,” she promised. “You know I only go after the bad guys.”
“And I think what they’re doing is bad, so . . .”
“I won’t be going all Hawkeye on them, don’t worry,” she said, doing her best to lighten the tone of the conversation. Not that Levi knew how many lives she’d taken with the bow and arrow. But she’d taught her son to shoot with one, and he knew her skills were well above par. She was Sydney Archer, after all. Her last name derived from famous archers in England, from what her grandfather had always loved to tell her.
“Maybe head to a kickboxing class after I go to Dad’s?” Levi suggested, her son knowing her all too well. He reached for his bag from the floor. “But don’t tell Dad I saw,” he began around a swallow, “anything.”
Her lips remained sealed in a tight line. She’d do anything for her son. Always. “I’ll be back in town on Monday. If you need me, call, okay? Your number is the only one getting through to me. I’ll check on you while I’m there, of course.”
He let go of his bag again and looped his arms around her waist, pulling her in for a hug like he was the parent consoling her. Did she deserve him? This amazing kid? God, she hoped so. She needed him. He was her everything. Her reason for being.
“Kickboxing sounds like a great idea,” she said when he pulled back, forcing a smile.
“Or the gun range.” He brushed his hair away from his left eye to wink.
All she could think about was how her son had removed a heavy burden from his shoulders by finally confiding in her, which was all that mattered. He didn’t need to carry the weight of his father’s sins. Or hers, for that matter. Because maybe she hadn’t been “enough” for Seth, but she’d be more than “enough” for Levi. No matter what.
Levi grabbed his backpack, then narrowed his eyes as if searching for a memory he couldn’t quite put his finger on. She knew that look because she was guilty of doing the same thing from time to time. “You haven’t been inside Dad’s place lately, right?”
She shook her head, trying to make sense of his question.
No, she avoided stepping into Seth’s home at all costs. The last thing she needed was an assault to her senses to trigger memories she didn’t feel like confronting. She didn’t need to walk into his home to remember the way the aroma of his imported coffee drifted around when brewing in the morning. Or to walk into his office and see his collection of rare war biographies that she swore smelled like they’d been dipped in formaldehyde. And his cologne. She’d never date a man who wore Jean Paul Gaultier ever again.
The memories of their marriage didn’t hurt, but they were a reminder of her failure in Seth’s eyes to be the wife Seth needed. And honestly, maybe she wasn’t meant to ever marry again. In fact, she had no plans to settle down in the near future. She’d focus on being the mother Levi needed and the “warrior” he saw her as working for Falcon Falls.
No, she didn’t need love. She didn’t need all the hassle that came with it either.
“Why do you ask?” she finally pressed.
“I just . . . well, maybe wear a new perfume?” he suggested, then abruptly darted to his room.
She waited for his door to click shut before heading into her bedroom to grab the bottle of Tom Ford from her vanity. “Wearing my signature scent, too, are you?” She let out a string of creative expletives, then chucked the bottle into the trash. She’d worn that perfume for years, and Alice knew that.
Sydney went back to her bed and peered at her cell phone.
Making that call, leaving that voicemail . . . it’d become a habit.
But it was pointless.
Those calls were always pointless.
And Levi was right—if she didn’t go hit something, she might do something she never did, something she hated.
Hell, she might cry.