Bittersweet Revenge, page 2
Father Nelson steps behind the altar, kisses it, and I follow his lead, touching my forehead, then chest, left shoulder, right shoulder, with each movement speaking the words I’ve said a million times over the course of my nineteen years. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
He goes into Penitential Rite next, telling us to remember our sins and celebrate the mystery of Christ’s love, followed by prayer.
I play my part the whole time, through prayer, song, homily, and profession of faith. Do I believe any of this? I guess I do. It’s all I fucking know, but sometimes it all feels like a waste of time. No matter what we pretend, none of my family in the pew with us will be going to heaven.
Mom reaches over and grabs my hand—I must not be paying attention. I try to focus on the rest of the service, ready to get the hell out of here and head up to Ashford. It’s two hours away from our home, but I love the facade of freedom I have at college. At Ashford, Sloan O’Shea isn’t in charge. I am.
When Mass is over, I breathe out a sigh of relief as we step into the Boston sun.
“You didn’t even pretend to be interested,” my younger sister, Aislin, says. She’s eighteen and will be a freshman this year, while I’m going into my sophomore year. I’m thankful as fuck she’ll be with me where I can keep an eye on her. I don’t trust anyone to take care of her as well as I can.
“I’m not as good an actor as you.” I cock a brow at her.
“I can’t wait to get the hell out of here,” she says, echoing my thoughts.
We’re never truly free, not of who we are, or our birthright, and…I don’t really want to be. The power is fucking incredible, even if stifling on occasion.
“We should go have lunch before the two of you head out,” Mom says, making me tense. It’s a reminder that again, I’m leaving her alone. She hates it. Sometimes I think she hates everything about our life, but I don’t believe it was always like that.
“Yeah, okay,” I say, but Dad shakes his head.
“Fia, we have business to take care of,” he warns her. “You can have lunch with Aislin, and then Blain will take her to school. Tiernan will head up later.”
Blain works for my father. He’s hired muscle, though I guess we all are, but he has Blain driving Aislin around a lot. He doesn’t always do the same for me, as though Aislin can’t take care of herself just because she’s a girl. She would fuck us both up, but my father would never be able to admit it.
“I can drive myself.” Aislin crosses her arms.
“Stubborn like her mother,” Uncle Rian says.
“She’s tough like her,” I cut in.
“Yes,” Dad says, “and your mother still has a bodyguard.”
“Dad—” Aislin starts, but Dad holds up his hand, silencing her.
“He won’t stay with you. He’s driving you there. I don’t know how late your brother will be. And then you’ll have him there to keep an eye on you.”
I can see my sister biting her tongue, but Mom, always the peacekeeper, puts an arm around her. “It’s just a ride, and then Tiernan will be there.”
But that means he’s leaving her without a car. She’ll be living on campus, and I won’t, so in his mind, that must ensure she’ll be dependent on me.
“Whatever,” Aislin replies. Dad kisses her forehead, and she says nothing and walks away. He would never accept that behavior from me, so in some ways, she has the advantage, and in others, it’s better to be me.
“I’ll miss you so much.” Mom pulls me into a hug, squeezing so tight it’s hard to breathe.
“I’ll miss you too.” It’s true. Sometimes I think she’s lonely. Actually, there’s no sometimes about it. She is, though it’s confusing. How can we be lonely with so many people around us all the time? How can we want for anything when we have everything? But then, I guess she doesn’t. She has a husband who treats her like shit and a son who will follow in his footsteps.
“Have a good semester. Call me every day and—”
“Fia. He’s a grown man. Let him go. We have business to attend to.”
We both know my father has the last word, so we pull away. Her eyes are watery, and I wonder if it’s hitting her that both her children will be away for college now. We’re close, all of us, even if we show it in different ways. And besides, Aislin and I will be back. We’ll always be back because we’re O’Sheas and we stick together.
“I love you,” I whisper, for only the two of us, then follow my father to his black SUV.
As soon as we approach, Oscar, his new driver, opens the door for us. I get in first and scoot all the way over, and my father slides in beside me.
“Someone stole from us, and we’re handling it.”
My pulse kicks up, and probably not in the way it would for most people. I dislike liking this part of it, but I can’t deny that I do. I’ve been taught my whole life that all that matters is the power you wield and how others fear you. My father is the best at both, and while I hate him for it, I also want to be like him.
No. I want to be better than him.
Still, I don’t know why he’s bringing me with him to handle this business. He could have brought Rian or anyone else, but he chose me. “Why?” I ask.
“Because I wanted you,” he answers, knowing what I meant. “Is it so bad that I enjoy seeing my son succeed?”
Succeed is a strange word to use, but I don’t call him on it. Don’t call him on anything he says, though it’s like a knife to the heart each time.
And the truth is, I know why he wanted me here. Control. Because he doesn’t like that I enjoy leaving for school, and if it wasn’t an O’Shea family tradition, ever since my great-grandfather immigrated from Ireland, I wouldn’t be allowed to go. He knows I want to leave, so this is his way of showing me there’s nothing I can do without him allowing it.
My hands ball into fists.
His phone rings, and he answers it. I watch the scenery go by as Oscar drives us out of the city, into an abandoned area with old warehouses owned by us. He parks out back, then gets out and opens my father’s door. I open my own. And then I follow my father into the building.
I smell piss and shit the second I’m inside, but I don’t flinch, just meet Finan as he approaches us. He nods toward the man handcuffed to a chair. He’s sweating, and it’s clear the smell is coming from him, but he’s not bloody or beat up yet.
“He’s so scared, he pissed himself the second we got here,” Finan says, then looks at me. “Hey. You leavin’ for that fuckin’ school today?”
“Yeah. After I deal with this.”
He nods, but I’m sure he too is wondering why I’m here. Yes, this will all be mine one day, but I have shit to do, and this isn’t my job.
I take off my suit jacket and hand it to Finan. Once I get to school, I’ll shed the suits, but I still can’t bring myself to wear anything other than button-up shirts. It’s what I’m used to.
“Oh shit,” I say when I get closer. “Mr. Owens? How’s Emily?”
I fucked his daughter when we were both sixteen. He came in and caught us. His face turned red as a fucking tomato, but he knew who I was and that he couldn’t do anything about it. Not that Emily didn’t want to be there with me, because she did. We still hook up sometimes. I’m a lot of things, but one thing I’ll never be is the kind of man to push myself on anyone I take to bed—man or woman.
“Tiernan…I didn’t mean—”
I punch him in the face. Pain pierces my hand but not enough to make me stop, never enough to make me stop. “Not what I asked you. How is Emily?”
He spits out blood. “Good,” he sputters. “Leaving for college.”
“Huh. Maybe I’ll give her a call.” She doesn’t go to Ashford, but I’m enough like my father to enjoy toying with him this way. It’s wild how you can hate someone but know you’re just like them. How you can despise them, but part of you craves to be them too. I hate myself for it, but I don’t know how to be any other way.
I roll up my sleeves.
“Please…don’t…it wasn’t much. I just…you people think you can get away with anything. You have more money than you know what to do with…Emily’s school costs so much and—” His words are cut off by my fist. Over and over and over again, I hit him, kick him, make him bleed while my father and Finan watch.
Seeing as they don’t have any tools out, I’m assuming this is what they want from me. Make him hurt…and I shouldn’t do it…but I do.
He’s still breathing when I’m done, but his face is covered in blood, head limp, vomit on his lap.
“I want to finish this quickly and get on my way.”
Finan looks at my dad, who nods in agreement. Finan walks over and hands me a gun. I hold it up and aim at Mr. Owens’s head.
“Please…don’t hurt her,” are his last words before I pull the trigger and end it all.
“Can I go to school now?” I ask my father as I give Finan back his gun.
“Yes,” he replies.
Finan stays to get cleanup underway. I wash in the bathroom on-site, then head out. Oscar drives us back to our house, where my car is packed and ready to go.
“Be good,” my father says, though I don’t know what the fuck he thinks good is. We’re never that.
I consider going inside to say goodbye to Mom again, but I don’t, knowing it will just piss off my father.
As soon as I pull away, I call Conan. He works for my father, and he and Rian have always been the men I would rather go to than my dad. But there are certain things I shouldn’t go to my father’s brother about, which means Rian is out and Conan is in. He’s one of the only people I trust outside of my sister, and Cillian and Rory, my two best friends. I do love my uncle, but Rian’s loyalty will always be with my father.
“Hey, kid. What do you need?”
“I need to get some money to someone, but I don’t want my father or anyone else to know.”
“What’s the name?”
“Emily Owens.” I might have taken her father from her today, but she won’t have to worry about money for school. It’s the least I can do.
CHAPTER TWO
Dean
I feel like I’m in a book or a movie—the poor kid at the fancy college, surrounded by those who are wealthier and more privileged.
Which is the life I would have had if Sloan hadn’t taken my father from me.
Dad had some money put away for Mom and me, but not nearly enough. He spent most of his life thinking he was part of a family and not planning for an escape. When things began to change between him and Sloan, he didn’t have enough time to prepare for our future. It’s why he stayed longer, trying to make more, hoping things would get better, but all that did was give Sloan time to realize he wanted to leave.
Ashford University is like something out of a dream, though—a sprawling campus filled with redbrick or white buildings in this mixture of Gothic and Italianate architecture.
It’s only been a day, and I haven’t seen Tiernan yet. We don’t have any classes together so far. He’s a sophomore and turns twenty in November.
I’m in my math course, when a girl with long, dark hair that reaches her ass comes in and sits beside me. I recognize her instantly.
Aislin O’Shea.
My muscles tense, a white-hot blast of heat rushing through me.
I could use her instead. She might be an easier way in, depending on how connected she is. But the idea doesn’t sit right with me. Misogynistic? Maybe. My mom would hate me doing any of this, but she would hate it even more if I brought Aislin into it.
“Hi.” She gives me a confident smile—must run in the family. She’s beautiful, with dramatic cheekbones and green eyes. “You’re…really hot. I already love college,” she says, and I fight back the urge to say something cruel because of who she is.
“Gay,” I answer instead.
“Damn it.” She grins. “I guess we’ll have to be friends.”
“Please don’t tell me you’re one of those girls who try to collect gay besties,” I play along, acting friendly, though bile burns in my throat.
“Oh God no. I would want to be your friend if you were straight too. Friends with benefits maybe.”
I cock a brow. “Not boyfriend?” Maybe I don’t have enough experience with people or women, but I figured most girls would go with that over hooking up.
“Fuck no. I’m free for the first time in my life. There’s no chance I want to settle down. Just don’t tell my brother that. It’s okay for him to fuck anything that walks, but God forbid I want to do the same.”
I have no idea how to reply to that. I’ve never met a girl like her before, and most of the time, I’d rather keep to myself than talk to anyone, much less a random stranger, but to make this work, I’ll have to get used to it. Plus, the mention of Tiernan is exactly what I need. “Brother?”
“Tiernan. If you haven’t heard of him yet, you will. And since you’re queer, you definitely want to keep an eye out for him. He’s bi and can never turn down a pretty face, and like we already discussed, you’re a pretty face.”
“I thought I was hot?” I test the playful words on my tongue and hate myself for saying them, for sitting here beside her when her family has taken everything from me. For having to pretend I don’t hate her too.
“That as well. Do I get your name?”
“Dean. Dean Smith.” My mom went with the plainest name she could think of.
“Hmm… That doesn’t fit you.”
I tense, my back going straight, as I try like hell not to let my discomfort show. No, it’s more than that. It’s my rage. I am Dean, but I wouldn’t have to be if it wasn’t for them.
Before I can try to force out any joke or teasing, assuming I could make myself say anything at all, the professor comes in, saving me from myself.
“Hello. I’m Professor Taylor.” He has short black twists in his hair, looks about forty, and has a unique style—he’s wearing suit pants with Jordans. “Welcome to Math 110.”
I try to give him my full attention, but throughout the class, I can feel Aislin beside me, and I’m on alert every time she moves, every time she breathes. If not for the photos I’d seen online, I would have forgotten Tiernan had a sister. I was only four last time I saw her, so she was three, and she wasn’t around as much.
I sit here and think of what to say, to get myself to the point where I’m able to speak to her without blowing this before I ever have the chance to accomplish anything. The good thing is, she clearly doesn’t recognize me. I doubt anyone else will either, not just because I’d been so young, but my hair was light as a child. The older I got, the darker it became, and now I keep it buzzed short.
“Do you want to grab lunch?” Aislin asks when class is over.
No, I really fucking don’t. What I want is to put a gun to her father’s head and blow his brains out the way he’d done to mine, but for now, I find it in myself to smile. “Yeah, that’d be great. I don’t have another class yet.”
“Me neither. And just so you know, you don’t have to. I’m not in the habit of pushing my friendship onto others. It’s just…second day and all. Last thing I want is to hang out with my older brother and the guys I’ve grown up with all my life.”
Rory and Cillian. I don’t remember them, but I’ve done my research. “You all grew up together and go to the same college?” I ask, as if I don’t know. “Are you local?”
“Boston, and yeah, it’s a family tradition that we come to Ashford. Cillian is my cousin, and Rory is a close family friend. But enough about me. Tell me about you.”
We head out of the building and toward the campus café, while I give her a lie sprinkled with as much truth as possible. My dad died when I was young, though I tell her it was a car accident, which is the story we always told. My mom died recently. I’m a computer science major. I moved around quite a bit, but instead of Massachusetts, I tell her I was born in North Carolina and lived in Arizona before coming here.
“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine losing both my parents,” she says as I pull open the door to the café. Does she even consider how many children don’t have their parents because of her father? And maybe even because of her brother?
“I don’t like to talk about it,” I answer honestly. “What’s your major?”
She tells me it’s communications, and we ramble about that and other random shit. And by we, I mean her. I stay quiet as much as I can and let her do most of the talking.
The café has both cold and hot food, plus numerous buffet counters. I haven’t been in here yet. I’m in the dorms like all the freshmen and have mostly just stayed in my room since arriving. Saving money for my college education was always important to Mom, but she hadn’t planned on a school as expensive as Ashford. I have enough for my first year, but I’m basically fucked after that.
We each grab a sandwich and chips. We’ve hardly sat down at one of the tables when the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I don’t have to look to know he’s coming. It’s like I can feel him, fucking sense him. My vision blurs slightly, my pulse racing.
I force myself to glance up just as Tiernan approaches with a dark-haired guy—Cillian.
Tiernan is…hate and power wrapped in a pretty package—green eyes, dark lashes, dark hair that’s just slightly wavy and rests against his forehead. His features are sharp but not too sharp, with sculpted cheekbones and a flawless jawline. It’s like he was crafted out of stone with the perfect features and body, long, lean, and muscular, because everything about him must be the best.
“Who the fuck are you?” he snaps.
“Jesus, T,” Aislin says, shaking her head.
“Your daddy know you take the Lord’s name in fuckin’ vain like that?” Cillian asks.
“Fuck off, Cillian.”
Tiernan’s hard gaze hasn’t left me yet, and I swear, it’s suddenly hard to breathe. I don’t know why, don’t know what it is about him, but I almost hate him more than his dad. Maybe it’s because he grew up with what was taken from me.
