Page 5 of Bittersweet Revenge
As soon as we approach, Oscar, his new driver, opens the door for us. I get in first and scoot all the way over, and my father slides in beside me.
“Someone stole from us, and we’re handling it.”
My pulse kicks up, and probably not in the way it would for most people. I dislike liking this part of it, but I can’t deny that I do. I’ve been taught my whole life that all that matters is the power you wield and how others fear you. My father is the best at both, and while I hate him for it, I also want to be like him.
No. I want to be better than him.
Still, I don’t know why he’s bringing me with him to handle this business. He could have brought Rian or anyone else, but he chose me. “Why?” I ask.
“Because I wanted you,” he answers, knowing what I meant. “Is it so bad that I enjoy seeing my son succeed?”
Succeedis a strange word to use, but I don’t call him on it. Don’t call him on anything he says, though it’s like a knife to the heart each time.
And the truth is, I know why he wanted me here. Control. Because he doesn’t like that I enjoy leaving for school, and if it wasn’t an O’Shea family tradition, ever since my great-grandfather immigrated from Ireland, I wouldn’t be allowed to go. He knows I want to leave, so this is his way of showing me there’s nothing I can do without him allowing it.
My hands ball into fists.
His phone rings, and he answers it. I watch the scenery go by as Oscar drives us out of the city, into an abandoned area with old warehouses owned by us. He parks out back, then gets outand opens my father’s door. I open my own. And then I follow my father into the building.
I smell piss and shit the second I’m inside, but I don’t flinch, just meet Finan as he approaches us. He nods toward the man handcuffed to a chair. He’s sweating, and it’s clear the smell is coming from him, but he’s not bloody or beat up yet.
“He’s so scared, he pissed himself the second we got here,” Finan says, then looks at me. “Hey. You leavin’ for that fuckin’ school today?”
“Yeah. After I deal with this.”
He nods, but I’m sure he too is wondering why I’m here. Yes, this will all be mine one day, but I have shit to do, and this isn’t my job.
I take off my suit jacket and hand it to Finan. Once I get to school, I’ll shed the suits, but I still can’t bring myself to wear anything other than button-up shirts. It’s what I’m used to.
“Oh shit,” I say when I get closer. “Mr. Owens? How’s Emily?”
I fucked his daughter when we were both sixteen. He came in and caught us. His face turned red as a fucking tomato, but he knew who I was and that he couldn’t do anything about it. Not that Emily didn’t want to be there with me, because she did. We still hook up sometimes. I’m a lot of things, but one thing I’ll never be is the kind of man to push myself on anyone I take to bed—man or woman.
“Tiernan…I didn’t mean—”
I punch him in the face. Pain pierces my hand but not enough to make me stop, never enough to make me stop. “Not what I asked you. How is Emily?”
He spits out blood. “Good,” he sputters. “Leaving for college.”
“Huh. Maybe I’ll give her a call.” She doesn’t go to Ashford, but I’m enough like my father to enjoy toying with him this way. It’s wild how you can hate someone but know you’re just likethem. How you can despise them, but part of you craves to be them too. I hate myself for it, but I don’t know how to be any other way.
I roll up my sleeves.
“Please…don’t…it wasn’t much. I just…you people think you can get away with anything. You have more money than you know what to do with…Emily’s school costs so much and—” His words are cut off by my fist. Over and over and over again, I hit him, kick him, make him bleed while my father and Finan watch.
Seeing as they don’t have any tools out, I’m assuming this is what they want from me. Make him hurt…and I shouldn’t do it…but I do.
He’s still breathing when I’m done, but his face is covered in blood, head limp, vomit on his lap.
“I want to finish this quickly and get on my way.”
Finan looks at my dad, who nods in agreement. Finan walks over and hands me a gun. I hold it up and aim at Mr. Owens’s head.
“Please…don’t hurt her,” are his last words before I pull the trigger and end it all.
“Can I go to school now?” I ask my father as I give Finan back his gun.
“Yes,” he replies.
