Page 11 of Sweet Vengeance (Sins of the Father #2)

Cillian

“Hey. I’m on my way to class. How’s he doing?

” Tiernan asks when I call. I’m happy for him.

This school thing means more to him than it does to me or Rory.

We’re here because of him. And even if he’s never going to be able to use it, Tiernan really wants his degree—at least he does now.

He was originally studying law, but only because it’s what his dad decided.

It’s always good to have a dirty lawyer on your side, and Tiernan was going to have to be that.

Now that his dad is dead, he’s not pre-law anymore.

He’s getting his degree in English Literature, a fascination of his that none of us except Dean understand.

Apparently, he’s into that shit too. A mob boss literature snob. Leave it to Tiernan.

“Good. Looks like he’ll be able to go home today. He can’t stay alone, though, T. Not only because of his health, but we don’t know what those guys are planning.”

“Fuck. Why is it always something? Why can’t we just have normal shit happening in our lives?”

“Because we were born into a life of organized crime?”

“Funny, asshole.” Tiernan sighs. “I’m not sure how I feel about him staying at the house. It’s one thing when we throw a party and then everyone gets kicked out. It’s a lot harder to hide the shit we need to hide if someone is there twenty-four seven.”

“You let Dean do it,” I argue.

“Yeah, and you gave me shit for it. If I remember correctly, it was you telling me all the reasons it was a bad idea.”

“But you did it anyway.”

“Because Dean is mine.”

And Ollie isn’t mine in the same way Dean is Tiernan’s. He doesn’t need to say it. Not that I want Ollie to belong to me forever. I’ve decided I definitely want to fuck him, but I’m not claiming him or anyone else forever. I’m still going to make sure he’s safe, though.

“He yours, Cil?” Tiernan asks, joking, but with an honest question in his voice too.

“Fuck no.”

“Then there’s your difference.”

“We still can’t let him get hurt.”

“Shit. I know. But we’re supposed to be the bad guys. We’re not supposed to be the ones helping people.”

I chuckle. “We are the bad guys. This doesn’t change us. I can stay at his dorm if you want.”

“No. Bring him home, Cil. You belong with us. We’ll figure it out.”

That soothes something in me. I know Tiernan feels this way—him and Rory both. Aislin and Dean as well. And I hate that I still need to hear it. It makes me feel weak, unworthy. “I will. Or at least, I’ll try. I don’t know if I can get him to stay there.”

“He’s annoying.”

“He’s adorable.”

Tiernan chuckles. “Whatever you say. I gotta go. We dropped your car off this morning so you have a way to get home.” T has a key to my ride like I have one to his, and luckily, my set was in my pocket last night.

“We’ll have a discussion tonight on how to move forward.

It all depends on what Conan finds out for us. ”

I knew it, knew that deep down, Tiernan wouldn’t let this go either. We might be the bad guys, but we take care of those we care about. “Thanks, T. See you later.” I end the call.

Almost immediately after hanging up with Tiernan, my cell rings again. I assume it’s Rory, but Conan’s name pops up.

“Hey, you’re up early.”

“Never went to bed,” he replies, voice deep and rough. “I put some feelers out for you, and then Rian and I had some business to attend to. It lasted longer than we thought, but we got him to speak.”

I’m surprised Finan, another man from our organization, didn’t join them. He’s usually the one who likes that kind of stuff. “Nothing like a little torture,” I say softly.

“Something like that. About your issue, though, it was surprisingly easy to figure out. They’re new to the area, wannabe thugs.

Steal cars, sell them or break them down for parts.

The police are aware of their little organization but can’t seem to find them.

Looks like a few of them go a bit rogue—I think those are your boys.

Violent but with no control. I’ll text you some names.

Still trying to nail down their known locations. ”

“Thanks, man. You’re the best.”

“Yes,” he replies simply, making me laugh. “I told your father last night what I was looking into for you.”

“Shit,” I curse.

“He wants you to be careful,” Conan says.

My brain scrambles slightly at that, my body twitchy. “He said that?”

The silence on the other end is the only answer I need.

“It doesn’t count if you have to make shit up for him.”

“I’m not. He might not have said it in those words, but it’s what he meant.”

I roll my eyes. That’s the most bullshit answer I’ve ever heard. I glance up just as they’re bringing Ollie back. “Gotta go. They’re bringing my boy back. Send me those names.”

I end the call before Conan can get another word out.

*

It takes a few hours before Ollie is discharged, and my mind is distracted by both him and my father the whole time. I don’t fucking know why I let that shit get to me, why I obsess about a man who is in my life but doesn’t want to be a father. My brain doesn’t get that.

They give us a list of things Ollie needs to do for his head and his ribs. They also reiterate the signs to look for, and if any of them happen, we’re supposed to return to the hospital. I ask a few questions, and then we’re on our way, the nurse taking him downstairs in a wheelchair.

“I can walk,” he grumbles, crossing his arms. Ollie’s behavior tells me he isn’t used to being taken care of this way; either that or he just doesn’t like it.

“Aww, you’re so cute when you’re grumpy,” I tease.

The nurse squeezes Ollie’s shoulder with a smile. “He’s a keeper.”

I grin.

Ollie rolls his eyes.

It’s not until we’re in the car by ourselves that I tell him what’s going on. “I’ll bring you to your dorm to get your stuff before we head to my house. You’ll need to stay with us for a little while.”

“No. I’m not.”

Jesus. I knew this would happen. “Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m absolutely not. You don’t get to tell me what to do, Cillian. I don’t subscribe to your weird mini-mob hierarchy.”

I rub a hand over my face. I’m fucking exhausted, have a million things on my mind, and now I’ll have to argue with him. “You really need to stop calling us the mini mob.”

“Fine. As soon as you stop calling me kitten.”

Well, shit. I hadn’t thought that through. Mini mob it is. “I don’t know why you have to make everything difficult.”

“Not doing exactly what you say doesn’t mean I’m making things difficult.

The world doesn’t revolve around you. I get that you and your cronies are used to getting your way.

Everyone is afraid of you, and so they all fall in line with whatever you say, but that’s not me.

I don’t care what you do to me because of it. ”

My lips pull into a smile. I should be annoyed as fuck by him, and part of me is, but here he is, this nerdy, pre-law kid, who has never seen a day of violence in his life until yesterday, standing up to me. It’s…refreshing.

“We’re not going to hurt you. Stop saying that shit. And fine, then, change of plans. We’ll swing by the house and grab my things, and I’ll stay with you.”

He gasps. “What? No! You’re not staying with me.”

“Make up your mind, Kitten. Because one way or another, you’re not leaving my side. Your dorm or our house. You pick.”

“I only have one bed.”

I grin. “I think I would be an excellent cuddler. I’ve never done it before. Maybe you can teach me.”

“Oh my God. There is something wrong with you.” He turns his head, looking out the window.

Guilt immediately weighs me down. “I’m not going to force myself on you, and I’ll sleep in a fucking chair.

I was giving you shit, but I won’t change my mind about staying together.

I don’t care if I’m outside your door, I’m going to be there.

The doctor doesn’t want you alone for a couple of days, and I intend on making sure that happens.

And I’m not trying to be a dick here, but we don’t know if those guys from last night were just trying to scare you when they took your IDs or if they’re planning on coming back for some kind of revenge.

I figure that’s unlikely, but it’s a reality you need to consider. I’m not taking a chance with you.”

Which honestly, is some fucked-up shit. I shouldn’t give a fuck about Ollie. We’re not in the bodyguard business. People need protection from us, but I’m over trying to dissect my behavior when it comes to Ollie.

He doesn’t answer right away, head against the window. It takes me a moment to wrap my brain around the fact that he’s probably scared. That he isn’t used to this.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” I say, trying to console him.

“I’m not your responsibility.”

This unfamiliar…possessive feeling sends fire through my veins. “Yes. You are.”

“Why?”

Now that’s a good question, isn’t it? But again, not bothering myself with all that shit. I can want to fuck him and protect him without it meaning anything. “Because you are.”

He sighs. “I don’t understand you.”

“That makes two of us.”

“Do you really think they’ll come after me?”

“Not unless they’re idiots. The issue is, I think they might be. They have no reason to—you can’t ID them, you didn’t prevent them from stealing the car—but people don’t always do what we expect.”

Ollie nods. Finally, after what feels like incredibly too long, he looks at me. “My dorm. Just for a few days, though.”

His answer makes things difficult for me—I’ll be running around between the house and the dorms—but still, I nod. “You want me all to yourself. Got it. We can make that happen.”

“That’s not what I… I’m not…” When I smirk, he says, “You’re such a prick!” He crosses his arms again, pissed off, and I can’t help but laugh.

“God, you’re fun, Kitten.” I think I might enjoy this situation a lot more than I should.