Page 44 of Attraction & Repulsion

Nodding, he said, “If only you had been there. The look on Kristen’s face when the judge ruled that I didn’t have to pay her anymore.”

“I know,” Carson said, kissing the top of his hands. “But it was better for everyone if I stayed completely out of your case. The judge knows me, and it would not have looked good if I was sitting in the back as the girlfriend.”

“I know, I know,” Jax said. “I agree with you and Mr. Hoover on that. But still—”

“Butstill, you won, and we should celebrate.” Carson pushed him out of the way so she could slip off the counter to preheat the oven.

Jax peered out the French windows that took up the entire living wall. Beyond the glass, nothing but dirt and curly, grama grass rolled like gilded waves for miles and miles. “Do you get trick-or-treaters?” he asked.

“Not since I’ve lived here.”

“You have a nice place,” he said, glancing around the kitchen and living room.

Carson had forgotten this was his first time inside her house, as she had been deliberate in keeping him at a distance. “Thank you. I bought it as a fixer-upper. After the accident, I had a lot of freetime on my hands, so I found myself a project.”

Jax joined Carson by the oven and wrapped her in a hug. “It looks wonderful,” he said, before kissing the crown of her forehead.

“This is so lame,” Carson whined, while attempting to make a witch’s hat with the violet sprinkles.

Jax leaned over to inspect her work. “What’s lame is that cookie of yours.”

Mouth popping open, Carson shot him a glare. “Howdareyou diss my cookie,” she said.

He shrugged. “I’m just saying, my two nephews have decorated cookies better than you, and they’re five.”

Glancing down at his treat—a blob of sugar paste and bat-shaped sprinkles—Carson pressed her finger right in the middle of it.

“Hey!” he yipped.

The mischievous look spreading across his face cut her giggling short. In the corner of her eye, she caught him dipping his finger in the lime-green frosting.

“No!” Carson shrieked, twisting off the stool, but she was too slow, and he caught her arm before she could escape.

He grabbed the wrong arm.

As Jax’s fingers dug into her fresh cuts, Carson cried out in pain, the debilitating stinging shooting up and down her arm. It felt like a lightning strike.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked, all playfulness gone,dropping her arm. Then he noticed the blood seeping through the fabric of her shirt.

“You’re bleeding,” he said.

Before she could pull away, Jax snatched her arm and yanked up her sleeve. Instantly, she ripped it back and shielded it behind her body. But, it was too late.

“Carson . . . give me your arm.”

A flurry of curses filled her mind. Wiping the frosting from his finger, Jax took a step closer to her, and she took a step back.

“Give. Me. Your. Arm. Now.”

When Carson didn’t move, didn’t budge an inch, he reached around to grab her arm himself. She didn’t resist. What was the point of hiding anymore?

Carefully, Jax stretched her arm straight and gripped the edge of her sleeve. Slowly,slowly, he pushed the fabric up. When he noticed the lines didn’t stop at the Band-Aid he pushed her sleeve even higher, higher, higher up her arm.

He had unveiled her deepest secret.

Her disgraceful habit.

Her drug.

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