Page 60 of Bittersweet Revenge
That does something to me, makes it feel like everything is getting all tangled up, all entwined inside me, in a way I don’t understand and have never experienced.
Without any direction from me, my feet lead me to the edge of the bed. His knuckles are bruised from hitting that dumb fuck earlier. My stomach clenches seeing marks on him from anyone other than me. It’s one thing when he’s bruised from my mouth, from pleasure, but seeing him hurt feels like someone stuck a burning-hot fire poker through my chest—even if it is his fault.
Ash has her hand on his stomach, fist tightened in his shirt like she’s afraid he’ll leave. I would never pull him out of this bed, though I never want him anywhere except in mine.
His facial features are softened in sleep, the anger he carries so visibly all but gone when he lets himself rest. My fingers twitch to reach out and touch him, caress his cheek.
Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with me?
I walk to the door, turn the lock, and flip the light switch, bathing the room in darkness. There’s an armchair in the corner of the room, so I settle in it, destined to watch over them.
*
“Tiernan, wake up.”I flinch at the sound of Aislin’s voice and the soft hand on my thigh. “Why did you sleep in my chair, silly? You could have woken Dean up to go to bed with you. I didn’t mean to—”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” I clear my throat, my voice rough from lack of good rest. “I shouldn’t have thrown that fucking party, and you should have told me if you were having a hard time.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m fine. I don’t know why I was acting like that. I didn’t expect it. Nothing even happened to me. I just…”
Aislin tries to walk away, but I take her by the wrist gently. “Hey. Something fuckin’ could’ve. It’s okay if it fucks you up.”
“That’s what Dean said too.”
Of course he did. It’s like he lives in my brain sometimes. “We’ll take care of it. He won’t…” I let my words trail off, my gaze shooting to the bed, where Dean is sitting up, watching us. I can’t say out loud that Jensen won’t hurt anyone ever again, but she knows what I mean.
Dean looks down, turns his head, not holding eye contact with me.
“I’m gonna take a shower,” I say. I kiss Aislin’s forehead, then stand and tell Dean, “You should go back to your dorm for today.”
“What?” Dean’s gaze snaps to mine.
“Go back to your dorm for today. Cillian is taking you out tonight, and you’re going.”
“Fuck you.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m so fucking tired of you saying those words to me.” I head out of the bedroom, Dean right behind me.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do. I’ll go back to my dorm—I don’t belong here anyway—but I’m not going out with Cillian.”
“Yes. You are.” I don’t have the mental capacity to deal with this today. I need my head in the game, and that won’t happen with Dean here, with me trying to hide what’s happening while making plans.
“He fucking hates me.” He seems to realize what he said, amending to, “Ihate him.”
“No. He doesn’t. You’d know if he hated you.” I run a hand through my hair, frustration eating me up, chewing my bones. “Can you just fucking listen for once? Trust me, Dean, okay?”
“Trust you?” he shouts. “I’m fucking here when I shouldn’t be! You’re the one going off to do mysterious shit and won’t tell me what’s going on.”
I drop my head back, looking at the ceiling. This is so fucked up. I don’t even know what’s going on, why we’re having this…fight? What the hell even is this? We’re not boyfriends. “Nothing is going on.”
“I care about her too.”
And I know he does, but that doesn’t change the situation. I’ve known him for like five seconds. I can’t tell him somethinglike this. “Then do what I tell you. It’s what Ash would want too. I don’t have time for this, Dean. Go home. Wait for Cil.”
He looks like I’ve hit him, like I’ve taken something away from him, before the mask of indifference slides over his face.
In one way or another, Dean and I are always walking away from each other, and this is no different.
I stare at the door for too long after he goes.
