Page 7 of Bittersweet Revenge
“Dean. Dean Smith.” My mom went with the plainest name she could think of.
“Hmm… That doesn’t fit you.”
I tense, my back going straight, as I try like hell not to let my discomfort show. No, it’s more than that. It’s my rage. IamDean, but I wouldn’t have to be if it wasn’t for them.
Before I can try to force out any joke or teasing, assuming I could make myself say anything at all, the professor comes in, saving me from myself.
“Hello. I’m Professor Taylor.” He has short black twists in his hair, looks about forty, and has a unique style—he’s wearing suit pants with Jordans. “Welcome to Math 110.”
I try to give him my full attention, but throughout the class, I can feel Aislin beside me, and I’m on alert every time she moves, every time she breathes. If not for the photos I’d seen online, I would have forgotten Tiernan had a sister. I was only four last time I saw her, so she was three, and she wasn’t around as much.
I sit here and think of what to say, to get myself to the point where I’m able to speak to her without blowing this before I ever have the chance to accomplish anything. The good thing is, she clearly doesn’t recognize me. I doubt anyone else will either, not just because I’d been so young, but my hair was light as a child. The older I got, the darker it became, and now I keep it buzzed short.
“Do you want to grab lunch?” Aislin asks when class is over.
No, I really fucking don’t. What I want is to put a gun to her father’s head and blow his brains out the way he’d done to mine, but for now, I find it in myself to smile. “Yeah, that’d be great. I don’t have another class yet.”
“Me neither. And just so you know, you don’t have to. I’m not in the habit of pushing my friendship onto others. It’s just…second day and all. Last thing I want is to hang out with my older brother and the guys I’ve grown up with all my life.”
Rory and Cillian. I don’t remember them, but I’ve done my research. “You all grew up together and go to the same college?” I ask, as if I don’t know. “Are you local?”
“Boston, and yeah, it’s a family tradition that we come to Ashford. Cillian is my cousin, and Rory is a close family friend. But enough about me. Tell me about you.”
We head out of the building and toward the campus café, while I give her a lie sprinkled with as much truth as possible. My dad died when I was young, though I tell her it was a car accident, which is the story we always told. My mom died recently. I’m a computer science major. I moved around quite a bit, but instead of Massachusetts, I tell her I was born in North Carolina and lived in Arizona before coming here.
“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine losing both my parents,” she says as I pull open the door to the café. Does she even consider how many children don’t have their parents because of her father? And maybe even because of her brother?
“I don’t like to talk about it,” I answer honestly. “What’s your major?”
She tells me it’s communications, and we ramble about that and other random shit. And by we, I mean her. I stay quiet as much as I can and let her do most of the talking.
The café has both cold and hot food, plus numerous buffet counters. I haven’t been in here yet. I’m in the dorms like all the freshmen and have mostly just stayed in my room since arriving. Saving money for my college education was always important to Mom, but she hadn’t planned on a school as expensive as Ashford. I have enough for my first year, but I’m basically fucked after that.
We each grab a sandwich and chips. We’ve hardly sat down at one of the tables when the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I don’t have to look to know he’s coming. It’s like I can feel him, fuckingsensehim. My vision blurs slightly, my pulse racing.
I force myself to glance up just as Tiernan approaches with a dark-haired guy—Cillian.
Tiernan is…hate and power wrapped in a pretty package—green eyes, dark lashes, dark hair that’s just slightly wavy and rests against his forehead. His features are sharp but not too sharp, with sculpted cheekbones and a flawless jawline. It’s like he was crafted out of stone with the perfect features and body, long, lean, and muscular, because everything about him must be the best.
“Who the fuck are you?” he snaps.
“Jesus, T,” Aislin says, shaking her head.
“Your daddy know you take the Lord’s name in fuckin’ vain like that?” Cillian asks.
“Fuck off, Cillian.”
Tiernan’s hard gaze hasn’t left me yet, and I swear, it’s suddenly hard to breathe. I don’t know why, don’t know what it is about him, but I almost hate him more than his dad. Maybe it’s because he grew up with what was taken from me.
“I asked you a question. Who the fuck are you?”
“A friend.” I take a bite of my sandwich, pretending I don’t understand how dangerous he is, pretending I don’t have a care in the world.
Aislin sighs. “His name is Dean, and he’s in my math class. I asked him to lunch. That’s all you’re going to get. I’m not a fucking child, and I won’t let you treat me the way Dad does.”
Cillian laughs, but all Tiernan’s attention is still on me.
“Don’t try to fuck my sister.”
