Page 32 of Bittersweet Revenge (Sins of the Father #1)

Dean

I can’t sleep.

Tiernan is passed out beside me, lying on his stomach, one arm over his head.

He’s naked like I am, neither of us having taken the time to get dressed after…

whatever the fuck that was in the shower.

It wasn’t just sex. It felt like…fuck…inevitable.

Like the universe completely rearranged itself so that one moment in time could exist, this thing I’d be powerless to stop even if I wanted to.

And I don’t. I don’t ever want it to stop, but all that does is remind me I’m betraying him.

The first person to make me feel anything, and I’m betraying him.

I make myself sick, and that weight is getting harder to bear, harder to quiet the voice that tells me I don’t deserve this.

Aislin, Cillian, and Rory, but especially him.

My fingers itch to dance along the soft skin of his shoulder, to trace the scar he has there… I wonder what it’s from… But if I touch him, I’ll wake him, or maybe I’ll wake up from my own dream and realize he’s not really here.

Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with me? It’s like I’m overwhelmed with all this shit inside me that I don’t know how to handle.

What I want and what I should want. What I’m doing and what I should be doing.

Avenging a man who loved me and my mom and would do anything for us.

All the ways she would hate who I am, and the parts of me that want more.

All that is entwined with him and my…obsession?

Yes, there’s that, but beneath it, entangled with it, is something I didn’t know I was capable of feeling.

I don’t understand why I feel it for him, just know that I do. Maybe the not knowing is something that’s broken inside me, something that’s always been broken, but whatever it is, I think Tiernan has it too.

I slip out of the bed, go to my backpack, and pull out my sketchbook and a pencil.

We didn’t close the blinds, so the moon and the light they have surrounding the property sneak inside, casting a yellow glow on his skin.

I start with his shoulder because I’m suddenly obsessed with that scar. Was it an accident? Done on purpose? If so, I’ll find and kill whoever did it.

I draw his arm, then his open hand, and wish I could fill it with mine.

His neck with my marks and his beautiful face that’s relaxed in sleep—the same face that looks at some people with the hate and anger I always feel, with disinterest at others, and fierce loyalty when it comes to Aislin, Cillian, and Rory.

The loyalty is for me too. I know it just like I know I need to breathe to survive.

I draw his hair, messy from my hands, his other arm clenched on the pillow. His muscled back, and though the blanket covers him from the waist down, his tight, firm ass is etched into my mind, so I do my best to draw that from memory.

I’m shading his far shoulder, when a soft, almost whimpering sound slips from his lips. I look down on him just as the sound fills the room again, followed by a broken no . Please no.

“Tiernan,” I say softly. Setting aside my sketchbook, I touch the shoulder I’ve been admiring.

“Leave her alone.” His voice is more panicked now but still drenched in sleep. It’s not enough to hide the anger and fear in the words, though.

“Tiernan, baby, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”

His eyes jerk open, and before I realize what’s happening, he’s on me, got me on my back, his forearm pressed against my neck. His breaths rush out in sharp, short pants, his eyes completely disconnected.

My heart bangs against my chest, but I don’t make any sharp movements. My concern isn’t for myself in this moment, but for him. “Tiernan, it’s me. Your little fighter.”

Something about those words snaps him out of it. He jerks away from me, landing at the end of the bed, eyes and pupils wide. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I…” He runs a hand through his hair.

“Want to get rid of me already?” I try to joke, unsure if it’s appropriate, but not wanting him to feel like this is a big deal. “I get it. I can be a lot.”

“Eh, you’re a good piece of ass, though.” He gives a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s clearly trying to hide whatever it is he’s feeling. Old me, the me I am with anyone else, would let it go, but I can’t do that with Tiernan. Not when I already don’t deserve him.

He moves back up beside me on the bed, and I ask, “What were you dreaming about?”

“Nothing. It’s not important.”

“It didn’t sound that way.”

“Fuck off, Dean, okay?” he snaps, but I don’t get my feelings hurt. I understand those urges. I have them all the time, and it’s not as if I’m not a dick too.

“You fuck off.” I nudge his foot with mine. “I thought I was the one with anger issues?”

He gives a soft chuckle. “You are. Well, we both have them, but yours are worse.”

“Lies,” I tease, testing out this new world we’ve found ourselves in. One where I cry when he fucks me because the emotion is just too much…one where we talk and try to make each other feel better and he’s found a spot inside me. One that will only be for him.

I want to give him something because I don’t think he realizes how much he gives me…and because when this is over, I want there to be good memories too, pieces of me he has that will hopefully show him it was real for me, want him to have pieces of me that no one’s ever had or ever will.

Fuck, he’s broken me.

He’s healed parts of me.

Reaching over, I turn on the lamp on the nightstand, then pick up my sketchbook and hand it to him.

“What’s this?” Tiernan asks.

“Look at it before I change my mind.”

Tiernan frowns but turns to the first page. It’s him, of course. It’s a sketchbook I’ve gotten since I met him, and I haven’t drawn anything but him since that day.

Tiernan at the café on campus, the two of us against the tree. Tiernan reading. Holding a gun. The two of us on the couch when I hit that motherfucker. Him both naked and clothed. Tiernan sleeping in Aislin’s chair, in bed, on me and in me, my marks always on him, on us.

“Jesus,” he says, his voice breathy.

“It’s too late for you to run.”

“Are you kidding? Do you think I would be with anyone who’s anything less than obsessed with me?”

I smile. When did he make me start doing that so often?

“It’s why I hit Cillian. He saw it. Those aren’t his to see.”

“But they’re ours?”

I roll my eyes. “I guess. I’ll probably regret it in two minutes.”

“No,” Tiernan says. “You won’t. Because you’re fuckin’ mine and I’m yours. We’re both messed up, but it doesn’t matter, not with us. Not with the people in this house.”

I nod and watch him as he starts going through the book again. He stops on one of us together, sitting in this bed, Tiernan blowing smoke into my mouth.

“They aren’t perfect. It’s not easy to draw from memory. I’m good at remembering shit, though, and I’ve got you memorized.”

He rubs his hand over me on the page. “That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.” He takes a few deep breaths, and I wait, knowing he wants to say something. “I was dreaming about my father. I…God, Dean. I fucking hate him.”

My gaze snaps to his face, heart on edge, beating too quickly. He’s made comments about his father before, talked about the pressure he’s under, but…he hates his dad too?

“Why?” I ask, truly needing to know.

“Because he’s a terrible person. I know I’m not good.

I never will be, and I’m okay with that, but him…

He treats my mom like shit. I hear these stories about her, how wild and free she used to be, how much like Aislin in many ways, but he’s beat her down.

She’s sad all the time. Depressed. He fucks anything that walks, and I don’t…

When I’m in, I’m fucking in. I could never do that. ”

For the first time since he started speaking, Tiernan looks at me, telling me, warning me, that he’s talking about me. That there is no breaking up, and a small seed of hope blooms in my chest.

Will he be able to forgive me?

“I’m in too,” I tell him, and he nods.

“You know who he is, everyone does. Sloan O’Shea, head of the O’Shea family. Everything you’ve probably read about him is true, and it’s everything he tries to pass down to me, even when he has to beat it into me.”

My blood pressure skyrockets, my body feeling like it’s going to explode. “He fucking touches you? I’ll kill him.”

“No. You won’t. Because then I would have to kill you. That’s the way it goes, little fighter. Why do you think Cillian and Rory haven’t tried?”

Jealousy claws at my chest. “Because you’re not theirs, and they’re clearly fucking weak.”

He grins. “No. I’m not theirs, but they know how it works. And they would probably try if I let them, but I won’t because even if I didn’t kill them for it, Rian would. Or Conan, Finan, any of the others.”

“Rian is Cillian’s dad.”

“That’s the way it goes.”

“They still shouldn’t let him touch you—the rest of them, I mean.”

“Do you think they know? He didn’t get where he is without playing the game.

You think I’m ruthless? You haven’t met him.

He’s good at what he does. He knows how to break people down and then build them up so they feel indebted to him, lucky to be by his side, but afraid of him at the same time.

They respect him because they don’t know him the way I do… the way Aislin and my mom do.”

My nails dig into my hands, I’m fisting them so tight. I’ve always planned to kill Sloan O’Shea, but now I’ll kill him slowly.

“Aislin?”

“No. He hasn’t touched her.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he wouldn’t be breathing if he did.”

“So it’s okay to hurt you?”

“I hate him, but he’s made me strong.”

“Fuck that.” I try to get out of the bed, but Tiernan doesn’t let me. He pins me to the mattress, lies on top of me, looking down.

“You’re not allowed to get out of my bed…even though you’re cute when you want to defend my honor.”

I roll my eyes, but part of me likes to be cute to him.

“The first time I killed someone, I was fourteen,” he says softly as I massage his scalp.

I’m afraid to breathe, afraid to open my mouth and not be able to hold my truth in.

“I think about it sometimes…have nightmares. I wasn’t ready when I did it.

It’s easier now. I’m better at turning off my emotions, but it still makes me feel empty. ”

My mind goes back to the night with Michael Jensen, how disconnected he’d looked…

but then he’d given himself to me, let me inside him, let me fuck him and bring him back to earth again.

That’s what we give each other. Maybe it’s wrong, but it’s ours.

“You do what you have to do, and if you feel like there’s nothing left inside you, I’ll fill you up with me.

The only real reason there’s a me is because of you.

” So I can give him that, give him everything.

“What do you mean?”

“That emptiness you feel after? That was me all the time, but not anymore.”

“Not anymore,” Tiernan says softly. “You draw me…all the time.” He leans down and rubs his cheek against mine, his hair hanging down and tickling my face. “You would kill my father for me, consequences be damned. You would give me all of you.”

“Yes.” Tell him. Tell him the truth. Tell him who you are.

But he said if I went after his dad, he would have to kill me. Nothing will change. Tiernan will take my life. Shouldn’t I enjoy us while I can?

“Tell me about you.” He drops more of his weight against me, lying on my torso, his head against my chest. It’s…so fucking intimate, so intense in its simplicity. I wish we could stay right here forever and never leave.

Every warning signal is going off inside me to shut my mouth, to keep my truth close to my chest, but I want him to know me. Want to give Tiernan as much of me as I can.

“My father was murdered.” It’s almost impossible to get the words out as I try not to choke on my anger.

I lift my arm, run my fingers tentatively through his hair.

Funny how I can fuck him, let him fuck me, bite him and suck him, but this, just…

letting the soft strands of his hair fall through my fingers, is scary as fuck.

“What happened?”

I play with the words in my head, trying to figure out the best way to set them free so that I’m lying as little as possible. “He was trying to protect my mother and me. He loved us so fucking much. I was young, but I remember. And she told me stories almost every day for all my life.”

“I’m sorry,” Tiernan says as I continue to pet him. I’m grounded by it somehow, like my fingers in his hair keeps me tethered to the earth.

“Me too. I told Aislin it was a car accident. I don’t like to talk about it.

You say your mom is depressed…my mom spent most of her life that way too.

She missed him, felt guilty for what happened, had an irrational fear that something would happen to me.

She was incredibly overprotective because of it.

I didn’t have a life really, at all, but I didn’t care.

I had computers, art, and books. Plus, I hate people. ”

“You don’t hate me.”

“I used to,” I tease.

Tiernan chuckles before sobering. “What happened to her?”

“Stroke.” The word gets tripped up in my throat. “She was young, but I think she was just fucking tired. It took her quickly. One day she was there, the next she wasn’t. And I was alone.”

Tiernan leans up so he can look at me. “Not anymore. Now you’re mine.”

He takes my mouth with his, and I let him. I pour every part of me into the kiss, try to fill him with me that way I’m filled with him, determined to enjoy this and to make Tiernan happy for however long this lasts.