Page 20 of Tempting My Mafia Monster

Who ‌touched her? Who made her bleed? Who dulled the brightness of her eyes?

Over the screams of the crowd, I could hear the fury in McKenna’s voice, “What the fuck are you doin’? Kill him.”

I stared into his cruel blue eyes and shook my head. I mouthed the words:

The girl. Who?

His lips parted as he realised what was happening. His invincible weapon, which had won him millions, was malfunctioning, and he knew why.

His jaw clenched, his eyes burning with rage. If I were any other man, I’d have been knocked out by now, a broken, useless body on the floor. Blood was running into one of my eyes from a deep cut on my eyebrow; my cheekbone was fractured and my body battered. I was thrown over the fighter’s shoulder and slammed to the floor, driving all the air from my lungs, but my mind wouldn’t let me go until I had an answer.

“Fine!” McKenna roared, his voice piercing through the white noise of the arena. “It was Donal. Just end this.”

The moment I heard it, I jumped to my feet, adrenaline surging as I gave in to the inevitable darkness I’d been fighting. I kicked the man’s injured knee, sending him to his other knee, then landed three punches to his face before driving my elbow into his throat. He fell back, and I was on him in seconds, straddling his body and choking him to death.

Look them in the eyes. Never let them die alone.

My head pounded as I pushed myself to my feet, using the fencing to steady me as the world tilted sideways. I knew that once the drug wore off, I was fucked. I hadn’t taken a beating like that in years.

I stumbled out of the cage, and two men were at my sides, throwing my arms over their shoulders as my legs dragged behind me. I was dumped back into the backstage room and lay on the metal bench while they restrained me again. There was no need for it. I could barely hold my head up.

The door slammed open against the wall, and McKenna stormed in. His gold rings connected with my cheekbone, the crunch of impact ringing in my head, but I hardly felt it.

“Ever fuckin’ pull a stunt like that again,” he sneered, leaning in close enough for me to smell the rancid whiskey on his breath. “And it will be the last thing you ever do!”

The sound of my unhinged laughter echoed around the room, and my body shook with the effort. We both knew he’d never kill me. He’d break me to pieces, rebuild me as he wanted, torture me for days, drug and starve me, leave me chained in the dark, and play his psychological mind games, but he’d never kill me. He’d spent too long turning me into his most valuable weapon.

I forced my one good eye open and stared up at him, snarling through a blood-stained mouth.

His jaw twitched. He dragged his hand down his face. “Hurt Donal if you must. Do not kill him. You hear me? Disobey me again, and you’ll regret it, Monster.”

Arms hauled me up and shoved me into the back of an SUV. The plastic-covered seats clung to my torn skin as I shifted, trying to lie flat. Post-fight tremors were taking hold as the drug trickled out of my system. The numbness was giving way to excruciating pain everywhere. I couldn’t tell where it started or where it ended, just a mix of sharp stings, deep throbs and things that felt very fucking wrong.

Four men carried me inside and dropped me onto my mattress, which really pissed me off. I didn’t have a bed sheet because the last time I’d bled all over it, and now my mattress would be stained, too.

A small cardboard box landed on my chest, along with a first-aid kit.

“Give him paracetamol every few hours, Princess.”

The deadbolt pierced the silence. I groaned, whacking the shite off me onto the floor, and tried to roll onto my side. Everything burned, but not as much as her presence. I hated how I’d grown used to it, how I knew the shuffle of her feet and the softness of her breathing. She was at my side. The first-aid kit opened, then frantic rummaging. Footsteps to the bathroom. Water running. Then she was back.

I forced my swollen eyes open just enough to see her face close to mine. Those pretty eyes were wide, sweeping over my body, trying to decide which injury to tackle first. Her lips were pressed tightly together, as if holding back words, and at that moment, all I wanted to know was what she wanted to say. What would her voice sound like?

Cold, wet material dabbed gently across a cut on my forehead, and my hand snapped up to grab her wrist. I didn’t need her help. I’d patched myself up before. I’d survived worse alone. She needn’t bother.

She paused, her eyes flicking to mine and her lips parting at my touch. My grip tightened to make my point, but her initial surprise gave way to determination. She yanked her wrist free and went back to treating the gash with the wet rag. She made sure not to touch me herself, but the sheer tenderness of her actions made me want to tear my skin off and run. I tried to stop her a few more times, telling her it was enough through our silent eye contact, but she refused to stop.

Stubborn, fearless little thing.

She still hadn’t figured it out. Nothing good ever survived around me. Yet there she was, refusing to leave, still fucking breathing.

Every morning, I woke convinced it would be the day I’d do it. But then those hazel eyes would find mine across the room, and my resolve would waver. She’d stand and stretch her gorgeous body, and it would waver a little more. I’d pace the bunker just to catch whiffs of her sweet scent and wonder how long it would linger if she were gone. Then she’d read, stick out her tongue when she concentrated, bite the corner of her thumbnail as the tension in her book mounted, or smile when I sat at my jigsaw puzzle or pulled out my tattoo gun. By midday, I’d know I’d try again tomorrow.

When Donal took her, I didn’t know what I was feeling. The emotions and thoughts were too unfamiliar and confusing. The ache in my chest as they left, and the way my heart wouldn’t stop racing because horrific scenarios about why they’d taken her kept plaguing my mind, made me want to destroy everything in my path.

I didn’t want her to go somewhere I wasn’t. I didn’t want her to be alone with them. With anyone else. I spent the first five minutes frozen to that bed, staring at the floor, trying to understand why the fuck I cared so much. I’d never cared before. I should have felt relieved. I’d have my space back. My quiet. My order. But everything was… louder without her.

I convinced myself at the time that I had done the right thing by letting Donal take her. The last thing I needed was to give them anything else to use against me.