Page 103 of Bittersweet Revenge
I don’t care what the fuck I have to do, how I’m going to figure this out. All I know is, I’m going to find him and bring him home.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Tiernan
Oscar is theonly guy here with my father and me, which tells me he wants to keep this on the down-low.
“Why isn’t Uncle Rian here?” I ask, trying to get under his skin. Ironically, we’re in a similar house to the one I killed Michael Jensen in, only this time I’m the one tied up. We have them all over the state, but I’ve never been to this one, and I thought I knew all the safe houses by now.
My father takes a drag of his cigarette. He’s not an everyday smoker, but when he’s planning on killing someone or working them over, he smokes like a chimney.
“Actually,” I say, “I don’t need you to tell me why he’s not here. I already know. He would tell you you’re wrong for this. He wouldn’t support it.” Killing Dean, yes, but not what he’s doing with me.
My father still doesn’t reply, only walks closer and backhands me across the face the way he did the last time I saw him. My head jerks to the side, pain exploding across my cheek, but I grit my teeth and pretend it doesn’t hurt. Slowly, I turn my head back so I’m facing him, my hair sweaty and hanging into my eyes. “Rian wouldn’t like that either. He rarely talks to Cil, but he doesn’t hit him. I’ve spent my entire life keeping your secrets, not letting them know how weak you are. They wouldn’t consider you a man if they knew what you did—how you hurt your own fucking son when he was too little to fight back.”
“You’ve got a mouth on you,” he says calmly. “You have a whole lot to say about me, but why don’t you take a look in themirror? When I have dirty work I need done, who does it? You can hit back as an adult but you never do. If I’m not a man, you’re not either, and I don’t expect that will change when I kill your little boyfriend. You’ll still do everything you’re told. Who is the weak one?”
Anger explodes out of me like a volcano. I try to throw myself out of the chair, which obviously doesn’t work. It rocks and almost falls to the ground. “Fuck you!” I shout. “You’re not going to fucking touch him!”
“Oh yes, but I am. This isn’t about you, Tiernan. Well, not completely. You betrayed me. You’ve known who he is, but I’m not going to kill you, not unless you make me, and we both know you would never willingly walk away from your mother and your sister. I’m just using you to play a game with the kid before I kill him…you know, make him suffer first.”
My eyes narrow, breathing heavy, but I don’t lose my cool like I did moments ago. Instead, I stare him down, gather all my rage so he can see it, fuckingfeelit. “You touch him, and you’ll die. You won’t know when, you won’t know how, but it’ll be by my hand, and I’ll love every second of it.”
He pulls in another drag of his cigarette, stare as cold as mine. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“I can keep them, and I will.”
“Huh.” He shrugs. “Maybe you’re a little more use to me after all. I’ve been waiting most of your life to see that fire in you. Imagine the damage I can do, considering I control it.”
The sad part is, he does, or at least he’s controlled it every day of my life until now. It doesn’t matter what happens after today, whether Dean is alive or dead. I won’t rest until my father isn’t breathing, and my smiling face will be the last thing he sees.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Dean
“Dean…you should eatsomething. You haven’t had a bite of food all day.” I flinch when Aislin’s hands gently knead my shoulders. She immediately pulls back as if I burned her, but I know she does it for me. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re fine, Ash. I’m fine. Once I hack into his phone, I’ll figure out where he is.” It’s what I’ve been doing since this morning—sitting at the kitchen table with my laptop, leg bouncing, heart racing, hoping like hell I can do this.
“You won’t be able to do much of anything if you’re not taking care of yourself,” she argues.
“I don’t care about me. I fucking care about him. I…love him.”
“I know.” She hugs me from behind. “He loves you too. We’re going to figure this out. Tiernan will be okay. He has to be okay.”
No, he doesn’t, but I don’t say that to her. A lot of people don’t end up okay. My father pissed off Sloan O’Shea, and none of us were ever okay again.
“Anything?” Rory asks, coming into the room. He’s subdued, which has me worried. It means he’s not any more confident than I am.
“No. But I can fucking do this. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Maybe we just start looking for him,” Rory says, “or maybe we call Cil’s dad again. Fuck, for all we know, Sloan doesn’t even have him, and T’s with one of our enemies.”
“We’re not in a war. No one would take Tiernan,” Cillian replies.
“Just because we’re not in a war doesn’t mean we don’t have enemies. You know that as well as I do.”
Their arguing feels like a jackhammer against my brain. The room spins, my thoughts spiraling out of control until I can’t hold them back anymore. “He has him because of me!” I shout, and the room falls silent.
