Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
“You two going to stop fucking around so we can get some work done?” My father comes into the room.
“My nephew makes me proud.” Rian squeezes my shoulders. “He said he took care of some kid at school who was picking on someone else.”
My father doesn’t miss a beat, will never tell me he appreciates my lie.
“He has a lot to learn,” is all he says, and my eyes find the ground. I feel Conan’s gaze on me as Rian tells my father to lighten up, before he’s put in his place too.
The four of us sit down and discuss the plan for the day. It’s a business deal gone wrong, and my father wanted me here to see how we take care of situations like this.
I throw up while I watch them torture the man.
It’s Conan who brings me out of the room. “You’ll get used to it,” he says, and I nod, wiping tears from my eyes. “Who hit you?” he asks, making my heart race and my head jerk up. There’s nothing he could do about it anyway. All that would happen is he would die.
“I already told you what happened. Don’t fucking baby me.”
I push past him and go back into the room with Dad and Rian. The coppery scent of blood fills my nostrils.
And when I ask if I can cut him too, Dad smiles and hands me the knife.
All I can think is, despite everything, I crave making him proud.
My eyes jerk open, the dream feeling like it just happened rather than being years ago. My chest hurts, heaving with heavy breaths. I turn for Aislin, not wanting her to see me like this, only to realize the bed is empty.
Worry immediately assaults me, as if something would really happen to her here. I scramble out of bed. “Aislin!” I call out, running down the stairs. The second I turn into the kitchen, I see her sitting at the table with Cillian.
“What’s wrong?” She leaps up and comes over to me, but I shake off her concern.
“Nothing. I just…nothing.” I’m freaking the fuck out for no reason. My head is a mess lately. I need to get my shit together before someone gets hurt.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Dean
I hate that I watch my phone the whole day, wondering if I’ll hear from Tiernan. Ollie comes and goes, even asks me if I want to grab lunch with him, but I make up a lie, though there’s no doubt in my mind he doesn’t believe me.
I do consider going with him. He’s what I should look for in a friend—kind, helpful, wants to make sure I’m okay. He’s what I should be at college for—connections like him and figuring out how to be a real fucking person with real fucking friends—but what could I ever bring to the table with someone like him? How would he feel if he knew how much hate and anger I carry? That I’m only at Ashford to get revenge on Tiernan’s family, and that there’s nothing I won’t do to get it. How would he feel if he knew I planned to take a man’s life before all this is over?
No, it’s better for Ollie if I keep my distance. The last thing I want is for him to get hurt in my fucked-up plans.
So I stay in my room and watch my fucking phone in a way I really shouldn’t be doing.
When my homework is complete, I’m still alone, so I pull out my sketchbook, my stupid hands drawing a neck and torso covered in bruises. Over and over, I draw different versions of Tiernan.
“Fuck.” I shove my book back under the bed. I can’t even read The Count because I let the cocky little lord take it from me.
Maybe I should have gone with Ollie. Maybe it couldn’t have hurt. I can’t help wondering what Aislin is up to either. I’ve gotten used to her texting me every day.
I shake my head and push out of bed. That kind of thinking is dangerous. It’s not as if Aislin and I are really friends.
I don’t need her.
I don’t need anyone.
I change into a T-shirt and joggers, pissed at myself that I haven’t fucking showered so Tiernan’s cum is still on my skin. Obviously, he’s not coming over, so it’s not as if he’d know, but if I’m playing this game with him, I want him to think he’s winning.
My earbuds fall to the floor when I try to grab them off the table, so I bend over and get them, pushing them into my ears as I head out for a jog. So much of what I do has always been indoor activities—drawing, reading, lifting weights, learning everything I could about computers and programming. When I need fresh air, it’s always been running for me.