Page 32 of Bittersweet Revenge
I roll my eyes. Of course that would be what this is about. “Sales have been slow. School just started. We’re working on some ideas, have some parties planned. It’ll pick up.”
“It better. If school is no use to me, you won’t be there.”
I tense at the threat because I know he’ll follow through. I’m supposed to be able to have this time. I still have my duties, and I take care of them, but I’m going for law, which is what he wants because it will benefit the family.
Every family works differently, but this is how the O’Sheas operate, how they always have, but when my grandfather was killed, my dad stopped keeping up with the traditions he doesn’t like.
“I’ll fuckin’ fix it. Jesus, it’s only been a few weeks.”
He’s always been hard on me, but I don’t care about that, not really. It’s made me who I am. What I fucking hate are the mind games, the power moves, the threats.
When nothing but silence greets me, I know I’ve pissed him off and I’m teetering on the edge here. “I’m sorry. I just have a lot on my mind.”
“If you can’t handle it—”
“I can handle it.”
“You better be able to. I must be able to trust you, Tiernan, to believe in you. This family is supposed to belong to you one day. If I can’t depend on you, what use are you to me?”
I don’t even flinch at the threat. I’ve heard too many of them too many times. He pretends to love me, but he doesn’t love me the way a father is supposed to love a son—not even in our world. Family is everything to everyone I know except for Sloan O’Shea. He plays the part well, shows others what they want to see, but I know the truth. Mom and Aislin know the truth.
I bite my tongue not to tell him he’s creating a problem where there isn’t one just to harass me and hold my education over my head. He wants me to say something like that so he can take something away from me, but I won’t fall into his trap.
“We’ll work harder. A lot of our regulars graduated, but I’ll do what needs to be done.”
“You better.” He ends the call without another word. That was…useless and so like my father. He just wants to throw around his weight, and he did. The smile I’d been wearing is gone, not that I have any right to be happy right now anyway. There’s always shit to be done, so I text Rory.
Me: Find anything out?
Rory: His dorm, his roommate, and his name. Michael Jensen. I’ll follow him through the weekend, or until we decide what to do.
Me: Good. Thanks. Cil can relieve you tomorrow.
Rory: You good?
Shit. Rory, Aislin, and Cillian know me better than almost anyone. Mom too. Still, I’m surprised he can tell just from my messages that I’m pissed, but then, I’m always pissed, so I guess that’s nothing new.
Me: Just want him fucking gone.
Which is true but not all that’s going on.
Rory: It’ll be done. Your boy…that was a good catch.
Yeah, it was.
Me: He’s not my fuckin’ boy.
My cell almost falls to the ground before I can get it pushed into my pocket. My head is filled with Michael fucking Jensen’s face, which sometimes morphs into my father’s as I walk to our place.
As expected, Cillian is still up when I get there.
“You with the new kid?” he asks, handing me a joint.
I take a drag, hold the smoke in my lungs, then exhale and hand it back. “Yeah.”
“He’s different…pays attention.”
“He’s nothing.” It’s not the first time I’ve lied about Dean, and it won’t be the last. Heisdifferent and pays attention. He has a sixth sense and no fucking fear in this way I can’t work out.
