Page 85 of Tempting My Mafia Monster

I snorted. “Easy.”

“Twenty?”

“Maybe.”

“Thirty?”

“Depends.”

A comfortable silence settled between us. Connor turned his head to look at me, his green eyes like Mam’s, sparkling in the sun. Everyone said I was the image of Da, while he took after Mam. The twins were a mix of both.

“When you take over from Da, will you let me be your second if I prove I’m strong enough?”

His face plastered with mud, that toothy smile and hopeful eyes made a swell of love lift my chest before I let it fall again. Connor and I gave each other shit the way brothers do, but beneath it, he looked at me like I was his hero. Da was mine. But I was his. And that felt good.

“Sure,” I answered, which made his smile widen. “But only if you can give me a black eye!”

I threw myself on top of him, rolling us in the mud until our clothes were covered. He climbed onto my back and wrapped his skinny arms around my neck, squeezing with all his might. It would have been more threatening if he wasn’t giggling so much.

“BOYS!”

We both froze, staring straight ahead at the farmhouse doorway where Mam had appeared. If she saw the state of our clothes, we’d be in big trouble.

“Run?” My brother whispered in my ear.

Despite knowing it was a terrible idea, I grinned.

“Run.”

I blinked rapidly. Pain stabbed into my skull like a sledgehammer, trying to crack it open.

“Jesus fuck,” I groaned. My voice sounded rough and broken. The stained ceiling above me swam in and out of focus. A face appeared. Male. Brown hair, green eyes. For a moment, I was convinced it was Connor. He looked familiar, but he wasn’t my brother.

“Take it easy, mate.”

I turned my head. Ow. That really hurt. My hand slowly rose to the bandage wrapped around my skull. Where the hell was I? Not the bunker. Not a hospital. There were no machines. But there was a drip in my hand as I lowered it back to the bed.

I tried to sit up but immediately regretted it. The room tilted sideways. Nausea surged through me. Two hands on my shoulders eased me back down, and I refocused on his face.

He looked so familiar. His name was on the tip of my tongue.

Another presence, the sound of rattling metal, drew my attention to the other side of the room. I turned to find a man with his back to me, fiddling with something on a table. His ankle was cuffed to a long chain bolted to the wall. He turned around with a syringe in his hand.

Doctor Lee. I knew this asshole. He stepped closer. McKenna must have put me in another fight, but this time I’d lost. I’d never lost a fight. Fuck. McKenna would be pissed.

“Don’t,” I mumbled, trying to knock the doctor’s hand away. I’d rather they let me die than mend me just so McKenna could fuck me up again to teach me a lesson.

“It will help with the pain,” the doctor said before I felt a sharp pinch in my forearm. I sighed, closed my eyes, and decided that sleep was a better alternative to reality.

Da paced the rustic kitchen, his phone pressed to his ear, as Mam’s eyes followed his movements from the table opposite me. The twins coloured their pictures on either side of her, while Connor drew football jerseys on scraps of paper. I was pretending to do my homework for my tutor, but mostly I was listening to Da and sneaking glances at Mam’s face. She looked worried.

The man on the other end of the phone was Italian. I could tell by his accent. Da had been waiting for this call all week. I heard him talking to my uncle about it. The Buccinis were allies. They were going to help us against the McKennas. Da had been more stressed since they beheaded Uncle Neil and left his head on a spike a few miles down the road. I wasn’t supposed to know about that, but… I always listened.

The air in the room shifted. The silence was deafening. I lifted my gaze to Mam’s face and watched her eyes crinkle with concern.

“Understood,” Da said, his voice harsh and unforgiving.

He hung up.