Sweet Obsession (Sins of the Father #3)

Prologue

Rory

Five years old

The house is new, and I’m not sure I like it. Mom has hardly left her room. She didn’t at the old house either, but at least I knew that place better.

I don’t know where my dad is. He left yesterday, and I haven’t seen him since. I heard him talking about working for the O’Sheas now…maybe that’s why we moved here?

“Mom?”

She stirs in bed. “Hi, sweetheart.” She tries to smile, but it looks hard. Why is it hard for her to smile?

“Do you want to make a plane with me?” It’s one of the only things that can get her out of bed sometimes. She does most of the work, but I’m learning, and I like that she makes them for me, with me. It’s my favorite thing.

“A little later, okay?” She rolls over, her back to me. “Mom is really tired.”

She’s always tired. Mom and Dad fight about it a lot.

My stomach is growling, so I go into the kitchen, make a bowl of cereal, and eat it. I explore the house, play outside. Some kids tried to talk to me, but I threw rocks at them until they left me alone.

Dad is still gone and Mom’s still sleeping when I go inside. Maybe she’s hungry too! If I make her some food, maybe she won’t be tired anymore.

I find a pan—most things are still in boxes—then push a chair to the sink so I can fill it with water. Once it’s full, I push the chair to the stove and set the pan on top before turning the burner on.

Mesmerized by the sparking blue flames, I watch it for a few minutes, then get bored and explore the house some more.

There are so many rooms! It’s not until I hear the weird popping sound that I remember and run back into the kitchen to see the water boiling over, hitting the pretty flames.

I don’t want to turn it off because I like how it looks, getting lost in it for a minute, watching more water boil over.

When I hear the front door open, I know I’ll get in trouble, so I rush to turn off the burner, hot water splashing my hand, a sharp sting burning my skin, but I don’t make a sound.

“Jesus, Rory. What are you doing?” Dad asks, but I don’t answer. I always disappoint him, and I hate that. I just want to make him proud. “Did you hear me?”

I turn to the man with him and scowl. “Who are you?”

“Don’t talk to him that way.” Dad grabs me by the arm, pulling me off the chair. “You show him respect.”

“It’s fine,” the man says, kneeling in front of me. “I’m Rian. Nice to meet you, Rory.”

He holds his hand out for me, but I don’t take it.

“How was school today?” he asks.

“I don’t go to school,” I snap.

“Preschool?” he asks.

“I don’t need it. I’m a big boy.” But it looks fun on the shows I watch.

“Keeva hasn’t enrolled him here yet,” Dad says, but he’s lying. I’ve never gone to school at all. I asked once if I could go, and Mom said soon.

“He’s almost six, correct? Get it done.” Rian stands. “Moira can help if needed.”

My dad’s hands tighten into fists. I can tell he’s mad, but he only nods.

“Go get your things,” Rian tells my dad, who glances at me, then goes upstairs.

“Have you ever gone to preschool?” he asks. I shake my head. “Where is your mom?”

“Fuck you.”

He cocks a brow. “You have your dad’s fire. That will get you in trouble with the wrong person. You need to learn when to tame it.”

Rian walks away, looking until he finds the room my mom is sleeping in downstairs. He walks over to the bed, but she doesn’t notice.

“Does she do this often?”

I want to say fuck you again, but I don’t want him to be angry at her. “It’s not her fault. She’s sad.”

He sighs, and I’m scared I got her in trouble.

“You pack some clothes too. Your father will be gone for a few days. You’re going to my house. I have a son your age—Cillian. He’s in preschool.”

“I’m not leaving her.” I cross my arms, and he smiles. Why is he smiling?

“Yes, you are. She’ll be okay. Moira will help.” I don’t know who Moira is, but…I want to go with him. I want to meet Cillian. I don’t want to be alone. I’m so bored.

“She’ll make sure Mom is okay?”

“I promise,” Rian replies.

I nod, then run to my room, throw clothes in a bag, and race back downstairs before they leave me.

“She’s okay. She’s just sick,” I hear Dad tell Rian.

“The boy doesn’t need to be alone.” Rian looks up and sees me, ending the conversation. “Let’s go.” He walks toward the door.

“Be good, Rory,” Dad tells me. “Don’t ruin this for me.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

Rian is on his phone when we get outside, and he signals for us to go to the car. He joins us a moment later, then drives us to the biggest house I’ve ever seen.

“Come on, kid.” Rian gets out of the car.

“You stay here,” he tells my dad before leading me into the house.

As soon as I walk in, I see a pretty woman in a pink sweater.

She has a kind smile. But my attention is drawn to the boy beside her.

He’s taller and bigger than me, with brown hair that hangs in his face and big blue eyes.

He’s wearing dressy pants and a button-up shirt.

I’m in an old T-shirt with a plane on it and dirty jeans.

“Hello,” the woman says. “You must be Rory. I’m Moira, and this is my son, Cillian.”

He steps forward, the way his dad did earlier, holding his hand out for me.

“Don’t old people do that?” I ask.

He cracks a smile. I like his smile, but I don’t want him to know I like it, so I bite my cheeks to keep from doing the same.

“It’s called respect,” Rian tells me. “Your father should teach you that.”

Cillian rolls his eyes behind his dad’s back, and again, I have to try not to grin.

“I need to go,” Rian tells Moira.

“Go ahead. We’ll be fine.” She hugs him, then gives him a kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” he answers, his smile overtaking his face.

Love? My mom says that to me sometimes, especially when she’s not tired and sad, but Mom and Dad never say it to each other. I know what it is. I know I love my parents, but it also feels like this weird thing that I don’t understand.

“You take care of your mom for me while I’m gone.” Rian hugs Cillian next. “I don’t trust anyone to do it except you.”

“I will, Dad!” He beams, clearly proud of being her protector.

Rian squeezes my shoulder, then leaves.

“Here, I’ll take that bag for you,” Moira says, and I hand it over. “Why don’t you boys get to know each other while I make dinner. After we eat, we’ll bring some over to your mom. How does that sound?”

“I tried to cook, but I burned myself. What do you have to eat? I like cereal. And candy. Do you have a TV? I like video games too.”

She chuckles. “You can have cereal for breakfast. We’ll have something with a little more sustenance for dinner. Where did you burn yourself?”

I show her, and she leads me into the bathroom, where she puts cream and a bandage on it, Cillian watching from the doorway. She tells us we can play now, then leaves us to it.

“What do you want to do?” Cillian asks.

Nothing. Everything. How am I supposed to know?

This boy is weird…and nice. I should want to throw rocks at him too, but I don’t.

“What do you like to do with your other friends?” he asks.

I eye him, refusing to look away, not wanting him to think I care. “I don’t have friends.”

“None?”

“Never and I don’t need them.”

Angry for a reason I don’t understand, I turn and walk away. I sit on the couch, arms crossed, determined not to want to talk to him—this boy who has friends and parents who are nice and who is nice to me.

I’m surprised when he sits beside me. “I’ll be your friend.”

“What if I don’t want you to?” But I do. I want it so much.

“Too bad. I’ve already decided I am.”

And he does become my friend.

He introduces me to Tiernan and Aislin. They’re his cousins. I don’t have any of those, but eventually they feel like they’re my cousins too.

Moira gets my mom out of bed and gets me enrolled in school. She tells the people there to put me in Cillian’s class, and they do, just like that.

Any time I don’t act right, when I don’t do the things the other kids do, I watch Cillian, learn from him, try to copy his behavior.

When I get in trouble in class, when the teachers get mad because I go through all the kids’ cubbies or make a mess in the room, Cillian helps.

When I can’t control my anger or do bad things I know I’m not supposed to do, Cillian helps with that too.

I feel guilty when I stay at his house too much, leaving my mom alone. Moira, along with Tiernan’s mom, Fia, try to be friends with Mom, but it’s not always easy to get her out of bed. My mom gets mean to them when they try, and that makes me mad at my mom. I don’t want to be mad at her.

Sometimes I’m out of control, and when the school sends notes to my parents because I’m fighting or causing trouble, Moira or Fia handle that.

And when I get lost, sad like my mom or wild like my dad, it’s Cillian who settles me down—talking to me, playing the piano for me, being my friend. My person.