Savage Mafia Prince

Savage

T here’s so much noise when I wake up that my initial thought is I wish I’d died. My entire body throbs and my head feels like it’s two sizes bigger than usual.

My father’s voice filters through the din. My entire being has been cultivated to be attuned to him. His every mood and desire. Every shift in the wind. The cells of my body have always pointed toward him, like grass growing toward the sun.

But the Oklahoma sun. The kind that burns so fiercely in summer that the grass wilts and withers under its glare. It’s no surprise my addled brain hears his bellow before I even open my eyes or make a conclusive deduction on whether I’m truly alive.