Page 83 of Sweet Poison

“What?”

I beam up at him, my heart soaring. “You’re magic, Madden Hunt. The best kind. The kind that makes everything better.”

His nostrils flare, and something that looks a whole lot like love flashes through his eyes. Then, before I can catch my breath, he leans down and kisses me again— this time, stealing the very air from my lungs.

This kiss feels different. This kiss feels like the beginning of something— the beginning of forever.

And as the sun shines down on us and bubbles float around us, we’re wrapped in our own little world. In this moment, I know with every part of me that I never want to leave this man’s arms.

Never.

Chapter

Twenty-Five

BLACK CHRISTMAS

Madden

Past

“With him by my side, every day feels like a holiday.” — W

Isit at the counter of the O’ Sullivan’s bakery, the warm scent of freshly baked treats enveloping me like a mother’s hug. Not that I would know.

The walls are painted in various shades of blue and green, each one a canvas of drawings. Some of them are polished and precise, no doubt the work of Mrs. O’Sullivan. Others are a bit rougher around the edges, sillier and more whimsical. I can tell they’re Willow’s.

As I sit here, I can’t help but feel a sense of comfort wash over me as I watch Mrs. O'Sullivan and Willow in their element. They love gardening, but they love baking, too. And the way they dance around the kitchen, their laughter fillingthe bakery like music— it’s clear they’ve found something that makes them happy. Their happiness is real.

At first, I found their cheery energy annoying. I couldn’t understand how someone could be that happy all the time. But now, I see it’s genuine. They don’t pretend. Their happiness is like a light that shines from within, and damn it if it isn’t contagious.

I watch their backs as they ice a batch of cupcakes, Willow laughing as her mom gently bops her nose with a smear of green frosting. A small smile tugs at my lips. Their energy—this rare warmth—feels like home.

I used to wonder what it was like to have a family who cared for you, who protected you. But now, with them, I don’t wonder anymore. In the short time I’ve spent with the O’Sullivan’s, they’ve managed to creep into my heart.

Not that I’d ever tell them that. I’ve learned not to get too comfortable, not to let myself feel. I know that when kids like me start to feel happy, life has a cruel way of reminding you how fleeting it is.

But deep down, despite the fear that lingers, I feel it. I do feel happy— happy and safe.

Then, as if to prove me wrong, the sweet atmosphere shifts.

A shadow falls over my safe haven, and my heart stops cold.

Someone sits down beside me.

The disgusting smell of hard liquor and cigarettes makes me glance sideways, and my stomach drops.

No. Not here. Not now.

How did he find me?

It’s Milton. My brother.

His eyes are dark, filled with a quiet rage that sends an icy shiver down my spine. I freeze, the instinct to protect Mrs. O'Sullivan and Willow rising sharply in my chest. Nothing can happen to them. Not because of me. Never because of me. Feargrips me as I realize I can’t let him see just how much they mean to me.

Milton sneers, his thin lips twisting into a cruel and vindictive smile. “So, you think you got out, huh?” His laugh is sharp and mocking, cutting through the warmth of the bakery like a knife.

I don’t answer, my heart pounding as he leans in closer. His voice drops to a whisper, thick with venom. “Why do you get to have a nice life when you ruined mine, you little fuck?”