Bittersweet Revenge, page 5
“I’ll clean up my mess in the morning. I feel like shit.”
“Yeah, okay. That’s fine. I’m going to bed anyway. Good night.”
“Night.”
He turns out the light, the room descending into darkness. From the sound of it, Ollie falls asleep almost instantly, but I don’t have that in me. I lie here, looking up at the slivers of white on the ceiling from the light outside the window.
Did Aislin get home okay? And why the fuck am I thinking about her? It’s not as if Tiernan won’t make sure she’s okay. Hell, it’s not like she doesn’t probably know how to do it herself. But it’s easier to think about her than him…the punishing grip of his fingers on my hips, the way he made my dick throb…
I grit my teeth, every memory making me hate him more yet at the same time crave something I can’t put my finger on.
When it becomes clear I’m not getting any sleep tonight, I quietly get out of bed and pull my sketchbook out from under it.
I’ve been drawing for as long as I can remember. I got it from my dad. My mom said he used to want to be an artist. That he could draw or paint for hours. They’d talk about having their own place in the country or by the ocean, where he could create all day every day, away from all the violence.
It was a dream, of course. They both knew that would never happen, even if Sloan hadn’t done what he did, but she was good at that, at being happy about things she would never have, content to dream.
The bathroom door clicks quietly closed behind me. I turn on the light, sit on the floor with my back against the wall, open to a blank page, and start to draw—first a torso with no head. Just arms, a neck and chest…with dark splotches from a mouth all over them. The next piece is Tiernan against a tree, me having control over him the way I gave it to him tonight.
No matter how much I want to, I can’t make myself stop.
*
I don’t so much as look at Tiernan for a couple of weeks. I’m not an idiot and know that if I push too hard, it’s just going to make him slam the door in my face.
If I’m being honest, I need a break from him too. It’s so much easier for me to…well, be me around him. I don’t have to try to be kind because his anger at the world seems to match my own. Though I don’t know what he has to be so angry about. He has everything he could ever want. He’s lived a privileged life. He’s the little lord who will one day be the king of his empire.
That’s what his name means. Little fucking lord.
But I have been keeping in touch with Aislin. It would be impossible not to, even if I tried. I can’t figure out what she’s playing at, if there’s a reason I don’t understand that makes her try to be my friend, or if she actually likes me. We only have the one class together, and she sits by me each time, and somehow, we end up texting daily. She’s hard to deny, a force of nature, but…sad too.
We’re in class now, and when it’s over, just like I assumed she would, she asks, “Want to have lunch?”
“Sure.” I shrug.
“Don’t sound too excited.”
I chuckle softly. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. At first, I took it personally, but I’ve come to realize that’s just how you are. You don’t have much experience with friends, do you?” I open the door for her to walk out. “Such a gentleman. Your mama must have raised you right.” She winks at me, and I immediately scowl. “Shit. I’m sorry. I forgot your mom passed away.”
My jaw aches, but I can’t seem to stop clenching it. I pull a deep breath into my lungs, then do my best to pretend I’m not freaking the fuck out. I don’t want any of their family to talk about mine. Ever.
“It’s fine.”
“Dean…seriously…”
“I said it’s fine,” I snap. Then curse. I’m so bad at this. “Now I’m sorry. I just…miss her.” I don’t know what else to say. I avert my gaze, feeling weighed down by vulnerability.
“You can talk to me about her if you want. I might not have experienced losing my parents, but I’ve lost people. A lot of people.”
Her father’s soldiers? Is that what she means? I also know Sloan used to have another brother besides Rian, and I know he died.
“Thanks, but I’m good.”
I shove my hands into my pockets as we walk to the café. While we grab food, I can’t stop myself from looking around to see if Tiernan is here.
“Something up?” she asks. I must look like I’m casing the place.
“Nah.”
We head outside to eat, and Aislin finds a spot under a tree. She sits across from me, then leans forward and pokes my neck. “My brother’s marks are finally fading. I can’t believe you hooked up with Tiernan. I thought for sure he didn’t have a chance with you.”
He shouldn’t have had a chance with me. I’m still fucked up in the head about what happened…and that even though I say I won’t, I’m not sure I wouldn’t do it again.
I shrug. “I needed to come. He was easy.”
“I can’t believe he marked you. I haven’t seen him do that before.”
Hearing her say that makes my skin heat. The sad part is, I can’t pinpoint the reason why. “I don’t want to talk about him. What’s up with you?”
“Why, Dean, I’m so glad you asked. I’ve been talking to this guy online. He goes to Ashford, but I haven’t met up with him yet. I’m giving it some time.”
“He hot?” I figure this is what most people our age do, how they talk to each other.
“Wicked hot.” She scrolls on her phone, then holds it out for me to see.
He definitely is—blond, blue eyes, and thick arms like he spends too much time in the gym.
“I’d fuck him.” I grin.
“Hey, this one’s mine.” She laughs, and for this one moment, I feel almost normal…but then I remind myself I’m not allowed to like her. That her family is my enemy, and it will break her heart when she finds out who I am. That I’m using her.
My chest tightens.
Sometimes I hate myself as much as I hate the O’Sheas.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Tiernan
I sit outside the dean’s office, waiting for him to call me in. He’s the one who asked for this meeting, and he can’t be on time? That would never fly in our family. My father is brutal and cruel but always punctual. Well, maybe always isn’t accurate. If he doesn’t think a person matters enough, if he doesn’t respect them, he doesn’t bother with being on time.
I shift uncomfortably in my seat. Is that what this is about with the dean? Because if that motherfucker doesn’t have the respect for me that I deserve, I’ll have to teach him what a mistake that is.
I push to my feet, walk over, and open the door. Hal Winters looks up at me, his angry expression at the interruption morphing to resigned as he speaks into the phone. “I’m sorry, but I’ll have to call you back. There’s an emergency I need to take care of.”
Crossing my arms, I watch him as he ends the call and hangs up.
“Don’t leave me waiting again.” I take a seat across from him.
“I’m sorry. I had an unavoidable phone call that—”
“I don’t care.” This is where I could tell him my father wouldn’t like it, but I don’t want Winters or anyone else to only respect me because I’m Sloan O’Shea’s son. I want it because I’m Tiernan. “What do you want, Hal?” I ask, using his first name.
He doesn’t call me on it, but the tic in his jaw tells me it’s a struggle for him. It reminds me of the new kid, the contempt he always has in his eyes and the way he’s clearly holding himself back from saying something that will get him in trouble. Hal, here, knows the exact dangers, while my new kid senses it without having a fucking clue.
Or maybe he does. Despite how well we play the role of upstanding citizens and wealthy Boston businessmen, one internet search would show the truth disguised as rumor. The stories played off as fabrications that are anything but.
“There have been whispers about you, Rory, and Cillian selling drugs on campus.”
I stare at him, waiting for him to continue, but as the seconds tick by, it becomes clear he’s not going to. “So? Deal with them. That’s your job, not mine.”
“There’s only so much I can do.”
“Are you saying you’re useless? Because if that’s the case, then why are we keeping secrets for you? If our business agreement is no longer beneficial—”
“It is,” he rushes out. “I’m doing my best here. I’ll work harder on my end. I just thought your father would like to know. Maybe it’s worth slowing down or finding ways to be more careful.”
I don’t respond right away, just sit across from him and watch as a bead of sweat rolls down his forehead. Then I get up, walk around the desk, and stand beside him. “Me. I’m the only one who needs to know anything when it comes to Ashford. And it’s your job, something I pay you well for, to make sure I can do that safely and effectively while I’m here. If there is a problem, fix it. If you can’t…well, that would make me very upset. You don’t want to upset me, do you, Hal?”
He flinches when I put my hand on his shoulder, then does it again when I squeeze tightly. “No,” he sputters.
“That’s what I thought. Can you imagine the headlines? Dean of prestigious university indicted for money laundering… And it would be even worse if they found out about your little habit of paying for sex, and that time you got too…eager with your breath play. Who got rid of the body for you? Who cleaned up your mess?” I let my hand trail to his throat and squeeze, the way he’d done with the woman. Hell, the way I’d done with my new kid the other night. I shake his pretty face from my head, annoyed that I’m thinking about him now. Or at all.
“The O’Sheas,” he squeezes out, voice broken.
“That’s right. We own you. Don’t you forget it.” I let go and he gasps, sucking in a sharp breath. I pick up the photo on his desk of his wife and two daughters. Fucking piece of shit. I can’t stand people who don’t treat their family the way they deserve to be treated. “Do they know what a disgusting pig you are?”
“Leave them out of it.”
“You’re not calling the shots here, Hal.” I walk toward the door and stop. “Your wife…Elizabeth. She likes to stay up late reading. She really likes that porch swing. You should talk to her about that. It’s not always safe.” Before he has the chance to respond, I walk out, leaving the door open.
The sun is bright when I step outside, and I’m thankful it’s still nice. We can go through four seasons in one week, and before we know it, we’ll be dealing with nothing but cold and fucking snow.
As I walk toward the other side of campus, where Cil and Rory are waiting for me, I’m trying to settle on what I feel. It’s a combination of disgust, exhilaration, and fucking pride. It’s wild how I can feel proud of shit like what I just did, while also sickened. I just don’t know which pull is stronger.
It probably doesn’t matter anyway.
Cillian and Rory are sitting at a picnic table.
“What the hell was that about?” Rory asks as I approach.
“He’s a fucking idiot. He’s worried the wrong people are hearing about our…operation around campus.”
“Which one?” Cil asks, and the three of us laugh. “You tell him to fucking deal with it?”
“Do you really have to ask? Do you think I don’t know what I’m doing?”
Cil shakes his head. “Not what I meant and you know it.”
“How is product moving anyway?” I ask.
“Good…not great, but college kids like to have a good time. We’re gonna need to get some more stuff.”
“I’ll make a call,” I tell him.
Rory pats himself down. “Shit. I don’t have my vape.”
“Nicotine will kill you,” Cil tells him.
“It’s gonna have to wait in line with all the other shit we do. A bullet’s more likely to take me before a vape does.” Rory grabs his backpack. “Oh, here it is.”
I roll my eyes. He’s a fucking idiot, but I love him. I don’t know what I would do without them. I’ve known them all my life.
Cillian looks up and motions behind me. “Your boy toy’s coming.”
I actually have to stop myself from turning around to look, which is a bit of a mindfuck. It shouldn’t matter that he’s coming up to me at all. “He’s not my boy toy, though that would be fun,” I reply, and they laugh.
“Yeah, but you never do them twice,” Rory says.
“I sound like a fucking cliché when you say it like that.”
“Then we’re all fucking clichés,” Cillian adds.
For a reason I can’t explain, my pulse beats faster than normal as I wait to see if Dean will approach. I can’t imagine he will, even if he wants to. He’s too proud for that. I like that about him. It’s obvious how much he wants me, but he doesn’t want to want me.
“Hey.” He steps up beside me.
I turn to look up at him, my gaze snagging on the fading bruises on his throat. “You’re still wearing my marks.”
“Fuck—”
“Me. Time for new material, New Kid. What do you want?” I ask just as Rory says, “Sit down. Join us.”
I throw my friend a pissed-off look. What the fuck is he doing?
“No, thanks,” Dean replies.
“Aw, come on. Tiernan was just talking about how he hasn’t seen you in a while,” Cillian adds. Okay, so they’re in the mood to bust my balls today. I’m going to fucking kill them both.
“I was talking about that pretty mouth of yours and how much I enjoyed shutting it up,” I lie. This isn’t the route I planned to take, but Cil and Rory talking shit leaves me no choice. Plus, it’s fun to shake things up with my new kid.
“If you’re lucky, next time I’ll shut you up with this.” Dean grabs his dick, and I have to hand it to him, he doesn’t back down. Everyone else does, and I must admit, I like the competition with him more than I should.
“Next time? What, you think we’re boyfriends now? I don’t do boyfriends, but if there’s ever a time I’m really hard up, I’ll give you a call.”
Rory and Cillian laugh.
“So…should I expect a call tonight? You seem the type that would have trouble finding someone who wants to fuck you.”
“Ooooh,” both Cil and Rory say.
“Says the guy who came saying my name and who’s still wearing my marks. You don’t even try to hide them. Why is that? You want to be reminded of what I do to you?”
“I don’t hide them because I forgot they’re there, just like I forgot about hooking up with you. What, you think I haven’t had anyone else since?”
My body flushes with heat in an unfamiliar way. My muscles tighten, my chest too, and all because this kid I don’t even know fucked someone else? Jesus, something about him has me off my game.
“He was better too.”
I shove to my feet, and both Cillian and Rory are right beside me before I have a chance to do much of anything.
“T…” Rory warns.
“I’m not going to hurt him.” I step closer to Dean, who doesn’t back up. He’s brave, that’s for sure. “I’d ask you if he smelled my cum on your skin, but I know you’re lying and didn’t fuck anyone.” Then I lean in and bite his bottom lip, immediately pulling back again. My dick throbs beneath the fly of my jeans, and I already miss the scent of musk and cinnamon on his skin.
Dean’s hand shoots up and touches the spot, which is bleeding slightly.
“Oops.”
He licks the blood away, then spits at my feet. “You should have one of your little friends take care of that for you.” He nods toward my wood. It’s a really inopportune time to start getting random boners off nothing but talking shit and a nip to his lip. “Wait. You are hard, right? I can’t tell.”
And just like every time we see each other, one of us walks away, leaving the other standing there, wondering what the fuck is happening.
And I fucking like it, more than I can remember liking anything in a long time, maybe ever.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Dean
I stare at my phone in disbelief when it shows Aislin calling me. What happened to texting? Do people actually talk on the phone anymore? I thought that was reserved for bill collectors and spam calls.
“What?” I say instead of hello.
Aislin chuckles. “God, I swear you remind me of my brother sometimes.”
“Well, that’s definitely not a compliment.”
My response earns another laugh from her. “He’s not so bad. Life hasn’t always been the easiest for us.”
My teeth practically break because of how tightly I tense my jaw. Being the prince and princess of a Mafia boss must have been so hard for them. They have their parents, family, money, and we had nothing. And now, I’m becoming friends with her and let Tiernan make me come. My nails press into my palm, but even the biting pain can’t distract me from those thoughts.
“Dean, did you hear me?” she asks, making me realize she’s been speaking. I haven’t heard a word.
“Sorry. Doing homework. What did you say?”
“I’m meeting Will tonight—that guy I showed you a photo of? We’re going to the Bar, and I wanted to see if you would go too. Your drinks will go on my tab, and hell, you don’t even have to hang out with me, but better safe than sorry the first time you go out with someone, ya know?”
It’s a good lesson for everyone to follow, but I have a feeling that’s something she’s learned because of her family’s lifestyle. And also because Tiernan would probably lose his shit if she went without protection.
“How are you getting into the bar?”
“That won’t be a problem.”
“Is twenty-one not the age to drink alcohol is Massachusetts?” Plus, I don’t have a fake ID.
“Ha-ha, funny guy. Yeah, but as I said, it won’t be an issue. I promise. This is a college town.” She uses that as an excuse, but it all probably leads back to the O’Sheas and their power.
And though going to the bar is the last thing I want to do tonight, she’s right. It’s not safe to meet some random guy in a bar. “Yeah, I’ll go. What’s the name of the place?”
