Poison

by Leanne Davis

  “We should have had someone to go to for help.”

  John shifted. “Someone like Harry Everhart perhaps?”

  “It hurts to find out that my father isn’t one of my mother’s loser boyfriends, but a kindly old man who happens to be a doctor with a wife who is kind in ways I’ve never known.”

  “Of course it hurts you. It was a terrible thing for Harry to do to you.”

  She paused then nodded. “It was, wasn’t it?”

  He smiled into the dark. She didn’t seem to know for sure that it was indeed a terrible thing that Harry did to her. “It really was.”

  “What’s he like?”

  “Harry? Smart, kind, soft spoken, a thoughtful teacher, a generous care giver, and I thought of him much as I did my own father.”

  “What if I was wrong?”

  “To get angry at him? No you weren’t wrong. Maybe though, when you have a chance to think clearly, you should give him a chance.”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Cassie?”

  “What?”

  “I’m sorry about Kelly. I really had no idea. In fact, I never really had a clear picture of what you grew up with.”

  “Your parents are really wonderful. You and Luke are very lucky.”

  “I should have introduced you before.”

  The dark seemed to draw out an honesty they hadn’t shared since a decade ago. He pushed a stray strand of her hair off her eyes.

  “I’ve never told a soul about Kelly.”

  “You can trust me. You just never did.”

  “If I’d trusted you with the real me, you would never have loved me.”

  “That’s not true, I would have.”

  “You don’t know—”

  “I do know that. I loved you for years after I last saw you. Even after I knew what you’d done. So I know I would have loved you, no matter what.”

  “After everything with us, what did you do?”

  “Nothing.”

  “What do you mean nothing?”

  “What was I supposed to do? You’d already done it, and we’d broken up. I had nothing to say to you and less to say to anyone else about it.”

  “You did nothing different?”

  “No.”

  “Has it ever occurred to you maybe that’s your problem.”

  “What?”

  “Not reacting to things.”

  “That’s my way.”

  “So that’s why you’ve had no reaction to Sarah leaving as she did?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you feel?”

  “About Sarah?”

  “About Sarah? About me? About us?”

  “I have no idea.”

  She was silent. Finally she asked, “Do you hate me still?”

  “No.”

  “You just won’t forgive me.”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “You don’t know yet? That’s it? That’s all you have to say to all of this?”

  “For now, yeah that’s all I have to say to you.”

  ****

  Cassie stretched out near John stiff and silent. She wanted John to put his arms around her and hold her tenderly. She’d vowed to stay out of John’s room tonight. But the nightmare she’d suffered for fifteen years had been worse than usual. She’d woken up with sweat beading her body and soaking the sheets. She knew it was a combination of her current fears, and age old guilt that had caused the dream, but still it was shattering to her mental condition. It was a bad omen, making her feel very small and very alone. Making her once again wonder if she could protect Tim. She’d wanted comfort. She’d wanted John. So she’d come to him.

  Now lying in the dark next to him, still completely unclear how he felt about her, she knew one thing with stark clarity; she had fallen back in love with him. She flipped over. Tears pressed into her tightly shut eye lids. She let out breath. Another pointless blunder she’d have to deal with and get over. Because there was no way John would ever feel the same way about her.

  Chapter Eighteen

  John got up and went into the bathroom. Cassie rubbed her eyes and stretched, feeling like shit. She’d slept little and thought too much. John soon came out of the bathroom showered and wrapped in a towel, looking refreshed, relaxed, handsome and sexy which made her heart flutter, and pissed her off all the more.

  He stopped moving when he caught her gaze. She got up and walked past him. He followed behind her into the bathroom. He stood quietly while she turned the shower on and let it heat up. She got into the shower and shut the door on him, hidden by the foggy glass. It was only a second before cold air hit her back and his long naked body was behind hers. His hands came around her waist and pulled her against him. He turned her around and looked into her eyes. Then he pulled her into his arms and hugged her to him long and hard. The hot water sliced over them, his warmth seemed to seep into her. He felt so good.

  She relaxed in his embrace and felt the way she’d wanted to feel last night.

  And stupidly she wanted to cry again. She waited for him to kiss her or fondle her. He didn’t. He tipped her head back into the warm water and wet her hair, then he took shampoo and worked it through her hair his fingers firm and massaging on her scalp. She closed her eyes enjoying the relaxing sensation. He dropped his hands to her shoulders and massaged them. He did the same to the rest of her back for so many minutes she nearly dropped to the bottom of the stall with how wonderful it felt.

  He washed the rest of her; the soap on his hands was slick and sensual. He washed her, keeping the shower more a massage than sex. She automatically started to return the favor but he gently nudged her hands away, turned off the shower, and reached out to grab a large white towel. He dried her off first, then himself. She stood there. What was next? They must be about to head toward the bedroom.

  But then he just wandered off to his closet, coming out with pants on and ducking his head into a shirt. She stood there with the towel clutched around her. What had that been about?

  He stopped moving when he noticed her standing there. He arched his eyebrows at her.

  “What was that?” she asked, waving a hand at the shower.

  He tilted his head at her. His expression strange. “TLC Cassie. You looked sad this morning.”

  “So you just wanted to make me feel better?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? What kind of question is that? Because it’s the normal thing to do when someone looks so miserable.”

  She didn’t get it. What was John about? She had no clue where they stood in the light of day.

  He walked over and again wrapped his arms around her, then rested his hands on her lower back. He looked down at her face and kissed her softly, sweetly, on the mouth. “I was nice to you wasn’t I, even ten years ago?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why would it be different now? I’m not like that. I’m not one of your mother’s boyfriends, and you’re definitely not your mother.”

  “You don’t love me.”

  “I’ve slept with women I’m not in love with, and I don’t think any of them would accuse me of treating them bad.”

  She straightened in his arms. “Look, one night stands are no big deal to me. I’m not like other women. I can take care of myself.”

  He smiled gently into her eyes. “No you can’t. You’re completely lost and illogical about sex. Your opinion of yourself sucks. You think you can handle this thing with us like it’s no big deal. But you can’t. And besides that, this isn’t just a one night stand and you know it.”

  “We shouldn’t have done this.”

  “It was just a shower.”

  She started to argue, but stopped when she noticed the tug of a smile on his lips.

  She finally grinned back. “It was the best shower I’ve ever had.”

  “Then we’ll have to do it again soon.”

  She rolled her eyes. She started to push him away. He gripped her tighter.

&n
bsp; “Six years of celibacy is punishment enough. It’s time to let it go.”

  “Don’t say that. Nothing about me can really change. You can do this with me now, only under these strange circumstances, but once real life finally starts again, you couldn’t be with me. No one can.”

  She tugged her arms out from under him and spun around, leaving the room with her statement as the final oppressive word between them.

  ****

  Cassie had spent all her time over the last few days worrying how Tim was handling their separation. She wandered from room to room and listlessly tried to occupy her time. There had been the drama of John, of course, to take her mind off of the stress, but never long away from Tim, or the never ending question of where was Marcus Leary?

  She went back to ignoring John and letting all the unsaid things between them stew so that John and her were back to the tension that so easily seemed to define their interactions.

  She waited until he was out of the kitchen and safely in his office before she had breakfast. She managed to ignore him most of the day without talking or making eye contact. Eventually she knew they’d have to discuss things. But she was in no hurry to. No answers this time seemed safer than answers. And at least as of now, John hadn’t totally rejected her.

  The phone rang. Cassie glanced at the clock. It was nearly five o’clock in the evening. John came into the living room where she’d been reading, a few moments later. He walked slowly, each step heavy as if the carpet was mud sucking at his feet. His body was stiff and unnatural. Before he was half way to her she jumped up, and her book dropped to the floor. Her hands shook, and her breathing increased.

  “It’s Tim isn’t it? Tell me John, just tell me.”

  “No, it’s not Tim. I promise you it’s not Tim.” He reached for her and gripped her tightly by her upper arms. She lost her strength at the news her son was okay. It took a moment to regain her composure.

  “What then?”

  His jaw was clenched. He looked into her eyes. “It’s Kelly.”

  “Kelly? What about her?”

  “She’s in the hospital. He hurt her, Cassie. Marcus hurt her.”

  “But…But how?” Cassie’s legs trembled. “Tell me what happened.”

  “Let’s go. I’ll tell you what Luke said on the way.”

  She followed him quickly to his SUV and waited as he started it and pulled out of the driveway. She dug her fingers into her thighs. Kelly was hurt. Hurt because of her. Once again she’d let her sister down. Oh God, she was responsible for Kelly being in the hospital. She pushed her face into her hands.

  “Luke found her in her bedroom. She’d been beaten up and was unconscious.”

  “Oh God, no. Not Kelly. It’s all my fault. It was supposed to be me.”

  John took her hand. “It wasn’t supposed to be anyone. Don’t do it, don’t let Leary win by blaming yourself for him. He did it. He must have known he couldn’t easily get to you, and he found the sure way to hurt you.”

  “I have always failed Kelly.”

  “Stop it,” John said, taking his eyes from the road long enough to stare into her eyes. “Kelly being raped wasn’t your fault. Marcus Leary stalking you wasn’t your fault. He wants to get to you, so he used Kelly, and she was the last person anyone suspected he would hurt. That’s why he did it. You can’t have failed Kelly or Tim, because none of this is your fault. Whatever you’ve done in your past, you don’t deserve this. You hear me? You don’t deserve this.”

  She was silent for a long while as tears streamed over her cheeks. Her body was cold, so incredibly cold, as if she was going numb. But John’s tone was so emphatic that she wondered if maybe he could be a little bit right. Could he? But didn’t she deserve this? Hadn’t she married Marcus? But John had nothing to gain by lying to her. In fact he went out of his way to tell her the stark truth whatever that truth was. He wouldn’t lie to her. He wouldn’t bother.

  “Cassie are you listening to me? You didn’t fail your sister.”

  She let go of a long breath. Her lungs rattled as if she had pneumonia. “I heard you. Do you really believe that? It wasn’t my fault? You don’t think I deserve this?”

  “I don’t think you deserve this,” he said, his tone so incredibly gentle she nearly lost her battle to not break down. John wouldn’t talk to her like that unless he meant it. Maybe he did have some genuine feelings toward her.

  “She’s going to be okay. She has to be okay.”

  “I don’t know. Luke was in a hurry and barely got out the name of the hospital and that Kelly was hurt before he hung up.”

  “It was during the day, wasn’t it? Marcus got to Kelly during the day in the very house being watched by the police?”

  “Yeah,” John said a wealth of inflection in his voice. “The police think Marcus must have been at my house and followed my parents to Luke, Tim and Kelly.”

  Cassie shuddered. She bit her lip and whispered, “Why didn’t he take Tim? He could have. He could have taken my son today and I’d have never seen him again.”

  John took his eyes off the road to look into hers. He swallowed and finally nodded. “Yes, he could have. He must have chosen not to.”

  Cassie closed her eyes, her body jerked back into the seat as if John’s words had physically assaulted her. She pressed a hand to her mouth to hold in the bile that suddenly filled her throat. Tim was okay because for some reason Marcus had decided to leave him alone and instead beat up her sister. Tears leaked over Cassie’s eye lids.

  And wasn’t Marcus just fucking brilliant? He had accomplished in making her relieved that he’d attacked her sister and not her son. He had chosen to hurt the last person anyone had considered protecting. Is that what had saved Tim today? The fact that Marcus liked surprises? And that he would love the fact that he’d outmaneuvered her and the authorities? The sick bastard won no matter what.

  Marcus seemed to be three steps ahead of them. He had found her here at the Tyler’s, and then followed John’s parents to her son. And the entire time she’d had no idea she had been found, or her son was in imminent danger.

  She quit talking. The thought of what happened, and what could have happened made her stomach twist and tighten. Numbness started to take over. She welcomed it. She stared out the window seeing nothing.

  When they got to the hospital it all happened in a surreal blur—asking for Kelly, taking the elevator up to her floor, and dreading what they’d hear once they got to Kelly’s room. Luke, looking grim, met them in the hallway. Cassie heard everything Luke said, but her mind was foggy and unclear. Was this really happening?

  Then her heart stopped.

  There sat Tim. He was sitting between John’s parents just down the hall from Kelly’s room. Nancy was holding Tim’s hand tightly. Cassie knew she should thank them for being so kind and good to her son. But just then, nothing in the world mattered, but Tim.

  She broke away from Luke and John. Tim got up, and she caught him against her in a crushing hug, lifting him off the floor. He was real. Tim was in her arms and okay. When she finally put him down, she smoothed back his hair and showered kisses all over his face, still holding his thin little arms in her hands.

  “Mommy!”

  “I’m here honey, I’m here.” She pulled him back in for a long hug.

  “Aunt Kelly,” Tim said feebly, his voice muffled by her shirt.

  “I know. I know. I’m sorry Tim. She’s...she’s going to be all right, you’ll see.”

  Cassie faltered. But she couldn’t, just couldn’t let this little boy who’d witnessed so much, been so scared for too long, be more upset then he was already. Tim sagged against her as if believing her.

  Cassie then bent down and told Tim she had to go check on his aunt. Tim nodded, clinging to her hand. She had to nearly pry his fingers off her. Tim sat back down between Nancy and Liam. He’d quickly attached to them in a way that surprised her. Of course, he was just as attached to Luke, and Cassie saw trouble in that fact.
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br />   Cassie straightened. She made eye contact with the Tylers and said a few polite words of thanks and asked them to watch Tim as she went to Kelly. They agreed and expressed their sorrow for leading Marcus to Kelly. Cassie turned to go face what her life had yet again done to her sister.

  ****

  Cassie’s head spun. She clawed at the door handle to hold herself up. Seeing her beautiful sister on the bed was the worst moment of her life. John came close and held her up. She heard his voice telling her to breathe deeply. She concentrated on his calming tone as he murmured over and over that Kelly was going to be okay. Kelly would heal. She’d been beaten badly but wasn’t going to suffer any long term damage.

  The only spot she’d been beaten was her perfect face.

  As near as the police and doctors could put together, she had been taken by surprise and tied to the bed, duct tape had been placed over her mouth. No one in the household, which included four adults and Tim, had heard a thing. Not even a muffled thump or grunt. Nothing. She’d been punched in her face; her eyes blackened, her lip split, her nose crushed. Kelly had identified it was Marcus who assaulted her. He’d been sitting on her bed when she’d walked in, grabbed her, and knocked her across the face before she could get away. That had been just after lunch, in broad daylight.

  Cassie collapsed next to Kelly, grabbing one of her hands gently in between both of hers, Cassie leaned her forehead against their joined hands. Tears slid down her cheeks, into her mouth, over her chin and pooled on her shirt.

  “I’m sorry Kelly,” she whispered to her sleeping sister. She raised her head, and stared at Kelly’s painted purple, manicured finger tips. The ends were chipped. From fighting off Marcus? Cassie’s breath came out in a shaky gust. God, would it ever end? Would the harm she brought to those she loved ever be finished?

  But then, she wasn’t sorry. She wasn’t sorry that it was Kelly, and not Tim before her in the hospital bed. The guilt choked her.

  But wasn’t that what Marcus had intended? The irony that Cassie was somehow grateful to Marcus for hurting her sister, but leaving her son alone?