Page 7 of Bittersweet Revenge (Sins of the Father #1)

Dean

I hardly make it to the end of the driveway before I’m bent over, heaving and emptying my stomach in the ditch.

My throat burns, my stomach cramps. I just had a fucking orgasm with the son of the man who murdered my father.

I knew it was going to happen, planned to use whatever means necessary to get close to Tiernan, but the concept and reality are two very different things.

I kissed him.

I liked it.

I betrayed my father.

I clutch my stomach, this time dry heaving as there’s nothing left inside me.

Walking away, I wipe my lips with my wrist, a terrible taste in my mouth, and I wish like hell I had something to rinse with.

I feel numb the whole way back to my dorm, but I guess that’s better than acknowledging the hate I feel for myself right now.

Part of me worries I’m already in over my head, but I won’t turn back now.

I can’t. What the fuck else do I have in my life other than this? No family, no friends. Just my revenge.

I use my keycard to get into the building and head up to my floor.

My roommate, Ollie, is sitting on his bed, reading with a small light on.

His side of the room is decorated—posters and photos, quotes on the walls and even on the ceiling so he can look up and, like, fucking read the same shit over and over?

It’s a stark contrast to mine, where my bed is made simply and there’s nothing personal in sight.

“Oh hey,” he says. “Have fun?”

I wave him off and head straight to the bathroom. He tries to be nice. I should probably appreciate it because most people don’t give a fuck, but I suck at small talk, and I can’t focus on anything right now except the O’Sheas.

I rinse my mouth, then brush my teeth. One look in the mirror shows Tiernan’s marks all over my neck. I tug my shirt off, and there’s one on my chest too, my pale skin colored purple from his mouth.

I close my eyes, count down from five so I don’t break the mirror with my fist. What the fuck is wrong with me? I could have hooked up with him without letting him leave evidence behind.

When I turn the water on in our small shower, I make sure to get it as hot as possible, strip out of my clothes, and step inside. The heat burns, makes my skin feel like it’s sizzling, but I stay there as long as I can take it, as if the water could remove Tiernan’s marks.

What would my father say if he could see me? If he knew I kissed and touched and enjoyed myself with Tiernan O’Shea.

What would my mom say, who tried so hard to make me happy, to show me the beautiful things in the world. All she cared about was me being as far away from this lifestyle as I could get, yet here I am.

And a part of me is intrigued by it.

After rubbing my body as hard as I can, I get out. My skin is an angry red as I dry off, and then I wrap a towel around my waist and return to the room.

“Holy shit,” Ollie says, eyeing my neck and chest. “You did have fun.”

“Sorry. Puked. I needed to clean up,” I tell him, trying to be normal and apologize for ignoring him earlier.

I pull on underwear beneath my towel, then toss it into my laundry basket.

“Hey…are you okay? No one, like, forced you to do anything?” he asks, his voice soft with concern.

For a moment, I’m struck speechless. What would it have been like if I’d inherited my mom’s kindness? What would it be like to be caring and show concern for others as easily as Ollie does? The concept is so foreign to me, despite growing up with it from her.

Here’s this guy I’m not very nice to, whom I barely know, yet he’s worried about me. Making sure I’m safe and okay. “Um, yeah. I’m good.” I run a hand over my wet hair. “I wanted him to be rough.”

And I did, which is part of the mindfuck I’ve been having all night.

Ollie nods but doesn’t look convinced. I think he’s pre-law, a good boy who’s probably never done anything bad or edgy. I might have just blown his entire world open.

“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.