Sweetest Salvation Read Online Free PDF Page B

hour.
    Walking through the kitchen
and into the foyer, she caught sight of herself in the mirror beside the coat
closet. Her brown tresses were all over her head, and she smoothed them down a
bit with her fingers. It was a losing battle. She wasn’t expecting anyone and
the solicitor or whoever was at her door could just live with her faded grey sweats
and bugger off. Visitors should call first. Though it wouldn’t have
mattered—sweats and t-shirts were all she wore at home now.
    She unlocked the door and
swung it open.
    Andy’s stomach pitched and
her eyes widened. Hunter stood on her porch, arms spread as he leaned against
each side of the doorframe. His unwavering gaze met hers.
    She knew at some point that
he would confront her after the other night. He’d been none-too-pleased to see
her at the club then.
    He looked even unhappier now.
     
     
    Hunter Sullivan took a long
look at the woman before him.
    For years, he’d seen her
dressed in long flowing gowns, dress slacks or pant suits with gorgeous blouses
or shirts at charity functions. He was becoming very tired of seeing her in the
same faded sweats whenever he happened to see her.
    Of course that was before
she’d told him to go to hell and rarely answered the door anymore.
    “Can I come in?” he asked,
even though he wasn’t about to take no for an answer.
    Seeing her at the club the
other night had nearly put him over the edge. He never wanted her to grace the
place again. At least not without him present.
    He pushed those thoughts from
his mind and crossed the threshold as she stepped back and walked away.
    Hunter closed the door behind
him and followed her into the living room.
    Memories choked him.
    He still couldn’t get used to
not seeing the framed family photos on the wall. Absent were all pictures of
Patrick and Peter, photos from Andy and Patrick’s wedding day. The dozens of
photos of Peter as a baby when he’d learned to walk, a picture taken every
three months. The last would have been his fourth year photo.
    His nose tickled and his
throat tightened. That little boy meant so much to him. The godson he would
have done anything for.
    Hunter coughed and took a
seat in the black recliner across from the matching loveseat where Andy sat.
    She picked at what he could
only guess was imaginary fluff from the arm of the loveseat. She obviously
didn’t want to look at him. He sighed.
    Coming here today would no
doubt result in a hell of an argument, but things had festered too long. He
needed to resolve whatever anger she felt toward him and convince her to move
on. He hated that she’d closed herself off from everything and everyone she
loved.
    He spoke to Jeanine and Tony Sheaver every day. Patrick’s parents had become his own
since first meeting them in his senior year of high school. Even when he and
Patrick had left for college, they’d always made sure Hunter came to their
house on holidays and special occasions.
    Having lost his own
drug-addicted parents when he was two, and having moved from one foster home to
the other his whole life, meeting the Sheaver family
was one of the best things to ever happen to him. On his own since he was
sixteen, he’d worked two jobs after school in order to stay in a rundown motel
on the outskirts of town.
    The couple who owned the
motel knew he was alone, and for various chores and help when needed, they’d
kept quiet about him being underage and never called the authorities.
    Within the first six months
of being Patrick’s friend, he’d tried to convince Hunter to save the money he
spent at the motel and move in with him and his folks.
    Hunter’s pride kept him from
accepting, and he managed to save enough money to live off while he tried to
save for college. It was a useless effort since tuition cost more than he could
make in ten years just working at the car garage and sweeping up after last
call at a bar in town.
    He’d been shocked, however,
when Patrick and Tony showed up at his motel one