Page 98 of Bittersweet Revenge
And Dean…well, he’s fucking mine in every way he can be. I would die for him. I would lie for him. Clearly, I would betray my fucking family for him because that’s exactly what I’m doing. How can I not, though? Even if Dean wasn’t who he is to me, I understand why he would want to kill my father. I’d want the same thing; it’s what would be expected of me too.
The morning after the first night he came home, Cillian and Rory acted like nothing happened. They treated him like they always would, giving him shit and busting his balls. They did that for me. That’s the thing about chosen family—they’re here because they deserve to be, not simply because they’re supposed to be.
Aislin had to get her say first. She walked up to him, told him if he ever ignored her again, she would kick his ass. When he apologized, she hugged him, and then everything was all good with them too.
I’m glad he’s back where he belongs, even if I shouldn’t be. Even if I’m lying to said chosen family about who he is just as much as I am my blood family.
He’s being cautious. He tries to hide it, but I see it. He doesn’t want to fuck up, doesn’t want to lose me any more than I want to lose him. We’re both completely in and possessive that way. It’s probably not the healthiest of relationships, but I don’t give a damn.
“What are we doing tonight?” Rory asks while we’re all sitting around the table, eating dinner. Aislin is back to staying at her dorm, but she’s here with us often too. She wants independence, but there’s something to be said for comfort, for being around people who don’t judge you for all your scars. We have a-fucking-nough of them.
“I’m not doing jack shit,” I say. “I’m tired of fucking parties and going out and being around people.”
“We’re not people?” Cillian asks.
“Not people we hate,” Dean replies, and I lean over and kiss him.
“He fuckin’ gets it.”
“That’s because you’re practically the same fuckin’ person,” Rory says. “Hey, maybe that’s why you like each other so much. It’s like you’re fucking yourself.”
Dean rolls his eyes.
“You’re an idiot,” I tell Rory.
“Yes, but a correct idiot,” Cillian adds.
“Fuck you both.” I give them each a middle finger.
“T, you know they’re right.” Aislin reaches over and lowers one of my arms.
“So now you’re betraying me too, huh?”
“Is there something so wrong with being like me?” Dean asks.
“Yeah, you’re a fuckin’ hothead,” I counter, though yes, I’m just like him.
“Oh, and you’re the definition of cool, calm, and collected?” Dean raises his brows.
“A fucking saint.” I take a bite of stew. It was Cillian’s night to cook, and he was smarter than most of us, putting stuff in the crockpot earlier today.
Everyone at the table except me bursts into laughter. I can’t lie, I have to bite back my smile too because we all know I’m anything but a saint.
We finish eating together, the whole time giving each other hell the way we’re so good at.
This dinner is another reason Dean is here with me. The people at this table are who fucking matter, and I’ll do anything in my power to hold on to that.
When we’re done eating, we all join in and clean up the kitchen, before each of us takes a beer into the living room.
Rory fires up the PlayStation, not something I do often because it feels like I always have too much on my mind or too much to do. Dean is competitive as shit, though, and before I know it, he and Cillian are arguing about who’s a better shot. Rory is losing himself in the bong, and Aislin is sitting beside me with her head on my shoulder.
“I’m glad he’s back,” she whispers just for me.
“Me too. Shit could get twisted, though,” I answer honestly.
“We’ll figure it out. I’m on your side, always.”
I nod, chest full. I don’t return the words, but I don’t need to. Aislin knows I’ll do anything for her.
