Page 102 of Bittersweet Revenge
“I know. It won’t happen again.”
Aislin returns, her cell to her ear. “Hey, Mom. How are you?”
She’s quiet, and I assume it’s because her mom is speaking.
“That’s good. I just wanted to ask if you’ve seen Tiernan?” Another pause. “No, he just mentioned he might come and see you. I’m sure he’s with his boyfriend.”
My heart skips a beat hearing her call me that, but not in the same way as last time. This time it’s because I know it’s true, and I want it to be. I want his mom to know it too.
“How’s Dad?” she asks next. “Oh, he’s not home?” Aislin looks at us when she says it. “Did you guys do anything last night?”
We wait while she continues to ask questions in the most nonchalant way possible. If I didn’t know what was happening, I wouldn’t see what she was doing.
We all watch Aislin as she plays the game with her mom before she can reasonably get off the phone without it looking too obvious. The second she ends the call, she says, “My dad wasn’t home all night. That’s not unusual, but something is up. I know Tiernan. He wouldn’t have left without telling any of us unless he thought he didn’t have a choice. He wouldn’t have walked out of this house that late if it wasn’t for my father.”
“Fuck!” I shout, trying and failing not to lose my shit. “Why would he do this? It can’t be good, right?”
“He wouldn’t hurt Tiernan,” Aislin says.
The looks Rory and Cillian send my direction tell me they’re not so sure he wouldn’t. I don’t even know the motherfucker, but I agree with them.
“Should I call him? My dad, I mean?” Aislin wraps her arms around herself, the fear becoming real.
“When do you ever call him? He’ll know something’s up,” Rory says.
“Who cares if he knows?” I ask.
“I can call my dad,” Cillian says. “Feel him out. He’s a lot of things, but he loves Tiernan. Hell, I think he loves Tiernan more than me. He wouldn’t hurt him.” There’s an edge of hurt to Cillian’s voice that he does a bad job hiding.
“Uncle Rian loves you,” Aislin tells him.
“Not important.” Cillian makes the call but doesn’t learn anything new. Rian asks how they’re all doing, and he asks about Tiernan as if he expects Cillian to be with him.
“I don’t have parents, so I can’t call them,” Rory says.
“Jesus, Ror.” Cillian shakes his head.
“Me neither,” I add because as sad as that is to have in common with someone, it’s something Rory and I do share. “What do we do? Where do we look?”
“There are a million fucking places they could be,” Cillian says, “and right now, we’re jumping the gun. It’s probably just a fucking job, and Tiernan will come home pissed and all despondent like he does after hurting someone, and then he’ll be back to his normal asshole self.”
I don’t hold Cillian’s positive outlook. Should I tell them who I am? Without Tiernan here, they might think he doesn’t know, might not believe me, and then we’ll be distracted with my shit rather than worrying about Tiernan. Plus, I’m not sure that will do anything at this point except let them know I’m a fucking traitor and this is likely my fault.
“For now,” Rory says, “let’s get dressed and ready. If shit goes down, we need to be prepared. We’ll figure out what to do from there.”
I nod as if it’s that fucking easy to just shower and get dressed as if nothing is going on.
They all leave for their rooms, Aislin the last out of mine and Tiernan’s. The moment she closes the door behind her, my feet start pacing the carpeted floor.
“Tiernan…where are you?” I ask as if he’ll pop out from under the bed and let us know this is all some cruel joke.
My gaze goes to the nightstand where our book is, the one we started last night. Was it only last night? It feels like an eternity ago.
I frown when I notice the drawer isn’t closed all the way. Tiernan always closes it. I walk over and tug it, see the gun box inside…which was also left open, a nine-millimeter sitting there, waiting.
Tiernan left that for me. There’s no doubt in my mind about that.
I pull out the gun and the magazine beside it. The magazine is full, and after making sure the safety is on, I slide it into the gun.
