Poison by Leanne Davis

You can’t do anything for me. I don’t want to talk about it. Sarah gets when I have bad days, I want to be alone. And I could be if I wasn’t living with you.”
    She met his scathing gaze without expression or comment. She nodded. She gathered the rest of her unfolded laundry into the laundry basket. As she started up the stairs she glanced at John, now staring at the TV.
    “I was in here first. You’re the one who sat down to watch TV, when you could have gone to your room. So maybe being left alone by me isn’t really what you want.”

Chapter Eight
    John dug his fingers into the armrest as he glared after Cassie’s retreating figure. So what if he was a little tired and out of sorts? Sarah didn’t like him when he was in this mood, so he’d come straight home, something he’d stopped doing in the last few weeks. Maybe Cassie was right, he didn’t want to be alone, but he didn’t want comfort from her either. He didn’t even know why he’d spoken to her.
    What did she know about him or how he felt about anything? She’d shown up a decade later in his life looking like hell, and with a kid who was in danger. He knew little of how she’d ended up at this point in her life. Then again he knew nothing about her period. He’d spent his youth nearly obsessed with her, and as it turned out, he had never even known her.
    She had told them nothing more than the bare bones of her past which was all it took for Luke to invite her to live with them. What the hell had happened to her? And just how long did he have to live like this? It had been over a month and there was not one sign of Cassie’s supposed ex. Or of any danger. John was beginning to think it was all a bunch of bullshit.
    He pushed off the sofa and followed Cassie upstairs to her room. He shoved open her door. She was bringing a t-shirt over her head. Her back was to him, and he caught a glimpse of her smooth, bare skin. She yanked the shirt down. He stepped back in surprise. Her hair was down, hanging over her shoulders, finally out of her damn bun. It did a lot toward making her look twenty-three again.
    He crossed his arms over his chest. “Tell me again why you live with me.”
    Her eyes widened, and her shoulders dropped. She shook her head. “I knew you’d do this at some point.”
    “Do what?”
    “Kick me out. I know I deserve it. God, don’t I know it. You remind me of it every fucking day I’m here.”
    He blinked in surprise. She was angry? What the hell? Where did she get off being pissed at him?
    “What do you want John? If you’re going to do it, just say so. I don’t need to keep walking on egg shells.”
    He snorted. “When have you ever walked on egg shells? You’ve never exactly been the wilting wall flower now have you?”
    “So what? Are you going to throw me out?”
    “I would. I swear to God I would if you didn’t have a six-year-old boy with you. I hope you know that.”
    “Oh, I know it. I know the only thing that makes me tolerable to you is my son. What about him John? What do you want to say to me about him?”
    He was tempted. So damn tempted to say the scathing things in his gut. She goaded him like no one he’d ever known. She, who had ruined his life when he was a kid, how did she have the right to act like he was to blame? It was all bullshit. Cassie’s supposed danger, and him having to live with her.
    “Fine. I’ll ask it. What I’ve wanted to know ever since I heard your pathetic story. Why did you keep Tim? Why did you keep the baby with the abusive ex and not mine?”
    A long sigh escaped her lips. She sat down on her bed. Her gaze pinned to her feet. “It’s not like that. It’s not a comparison. I didn’t like one baby better than the other.”
    “Then what’s it like?”
    “It was never about who fathered them. It was about me. What I could handle. What I thought was the right thing to do. And five years difference in my life. What is it you want to know John? Did I love Marcus? Yes I