Page 84 of Tempting My Mafia Monster

“String him up for me. I’ll be back in a minute.”

I stared at the knife in my hand, then at the pig at my feet. Before heaving the corpse into the air with the rope, I sank back to my knees and paid my respects.

A deep groan tore from my throat. Had my head exploded? It fucking felt like it. My eyelids were too heavy to lift, but I tried.

“Hang in there, mate,” a deep voice said. “Hurry the fuck up, Doc.”

“I’m trying,” came a second voice. “I’m not a neurologist. If the pressure in his skull continues to rise, there’s nothing I can do.”

“He dies, you die. So you better fuckin’ save him.”

A hand landed on my shoulder as I groaned louder.

“I think he’s waking up. That’s good, right?” The voice sounded closer. “Monster? Monster, can you hear me?”

It was too much effort. It hurt too much. Sleeping was easier. I sank back into memories.

“Ya cheated!”

“I didn’t!”

“You absolutely did!”

“I scored, didn’t I?” Connor flung his arms out at his sides in defiance.

“Only cus ya moved the bloody goalposts.”

My little brother grinned mischievously, revealing the gap where he’d lost a tooth two weeks ago.

“You’ll never get better if ya cheat, fuckhead.”

“Mam says you’re not allowed to say fuckhead.”

“Then stop being a fuckhead, and I won’t call ya one.”

He laughed as I kicked the football towards him. Connor trapped it with surprising skill, then flicked it before immediately booting it through my legs. He was already better than I’d ever let on. His laughter rocketed across the field.

“Oh, that’s embarrassin’ for you!”

Little shite.

“Get fucked.”

“Mam says you’re not allowed to say…” His words died in a squeal as I sprinted towards him. He darted away, his little boots tearing through the grass and sending clumps of mud into the air. For a few seconds, he genuinely thought he could outrun me. I chased him down as he laughed, grabbed him around the waist, and tackled him into the mud.

“You’re so slow,” I chuckled, pushing his head into the ground. He shoved me off, and I let him.

“I’m only nine! You’re bigger than me. It isn’t fair.”

I collapsed beside him in the mud, staring up at the endless blue sky and drifting clouds. “You’ll be twelve one day. Then I’ll be fifteen. And I’ll still beat ya.”

“No way! One day I’ll be stronger than you.”

“No chance.”

The farm stretched all around us, the rolling hills cocooning us from the outside world. The sheep were grazing nearby, ignoring our shenanigans as they always did.

“Do you think Da could beat ten men in a fight?” Connor asked, staring up at the sky beside me.