Murder Love ||Mafia Byler Story||

Part 7

Third Person POV:

Mike enters the large meeting room at the base, where he sees his mother and his sister already inside. His mother was fuming, which was never a good sign. Mike gulps in nervousness.

"Micheal," Karen hisses. "Come here."

He obeys, and stops in front of her. There was a moment of silence, before a slap echoed across the room, Mike's face turning to the side and his cheek swelling red.

"How dare you," Karen sneers, keeping her hand in the air for a moment. "Not only do you cut off our deal, meaning that the bastard of a mafia will be coming for all of our heads, but you don't even kill one of them. Not one. Do you have any idea how your actions affect us all?"

Mike stays silent, knowing that no matter what he said his mother would get angrier.

Nancy shifts in her seat, but doesn't argue against her mother. Mike is thankful for that at least.

"Go train," Karen says, dismissing him outright. "I hope next time your silly feelings don't come in the way of your work. I want training level 263 able to be completed by midnight."

He nods, and leaves the room.

One punch. Two punches. Another. A roundhouse kick. Again. Repeat. His knuckles were bleeding and his shins were bruising. The poor punching bag has seen better days. And it's the third one just tonight.

"Okay, let's try it again," His personal trainer, Steve Harrington, says, nodding his head to the mat.

Mike nods, his chest rising and falling as he huffs. He was sweating and his nose was trickling blood from a failed try. He walks to the middle of the mat and waits.

"Start exercise!" Steve shouts into the room, cupping his hands over his mouth.

Immediately, two dozen robots enter the room, rushing toward Mike. He bounces on his heels before lunging, tackling one robot before throwing it into another. He kicks one in the jaw, causing its head to come off, then takes a hit to his arm so he can dodge another attack to his waist. He spins around and punches another robot in the face.

From another person's point of view, it would look like a blur of darkness was spinning around and causing the destruction.

Then one of the robots landed a punch on Mike's stomach, causing him to choke on his spit.

He flattens himself to the floor, then spins around with his legs out, tripping all the bots down. Then Mike grabs the ankles of one, flips, and bashes its head into three others. He does another flip to take down more robots, before he finally finishes the practice.

"Good job," Steve says, clapping. Then his eyes narrow when he sees Mike stumble. "You need to sit down, Wheeler? You're not looking too good."

Mike lets out a soft groan before falling forward, almost hitting the ground if Steve didn't rush forward. The older one looks at the clock. 11:54. Just in time. Steve thinks

"Let's get you to bed, Wheeler," Steve says, sighing.

...

Will rubs his sister's back as she retells what happened at the other mafia.

They tortured her with electricity and almost drowning for information about their own mafia, cleaning her up every time before going again. Joyce and Hopper were silent the whole time, but Will could tell they were furious. No, they were livid.

"I knew the deal was a bad idea," Hopper says after Jane was done. "I'd almost thank that boy for telling us to stop it."

"Mike didn't want to have this happen," Will says, frowning.

Jane shudders, and the attention returns to her. "It just sounds so weird hearing you.." She glances at her older brother nervously. "Defend them."

"I'm not defending the people who did that to you," Will says.

"Practically the same thing," Joyce says. "You saw how much that boy wanted to be back with his 'people'. He doesn't deserve your defense, Will."

Will huffs out a sigh, but doesn't argue further.

His mind goes back to when he was watching Mike drive away on the motorcycle, how he shot into the air multiple times. That had to be Mike telling him something.

I want to see him again. Will thinks, but doesn't speak it.

Joyce dismissed him so they could speak more privately with Jane, and Will was almost thankful. He needs to clear his head.

He goes to target practice, shooting bullseye after bullseye.

He told me. Will thinks, not flinching at the gunshots. If he didn't tell me, Jane would still be there. He told me to protect her, I know it.

"Is there a reason you look so deep in thought while shooting a bullseye?" Dustin asks, walking over.

Will let out a sigh. "I'm sure you've heard," He mutters, reloading his gun.

"Yeah, but I think you're right," Dustin says. "I met him once, and Mike seems like a nice guy. It's not his fault he's in a different mafia than us. That's just how life turned out. Life sucks, by the way, take it from me."

Will snorts. "Yeah, okay," He says, starting to shoot again. "Life sucks."

"'Quotes from Dustin'," Dustin says, grinning, gesturing in the air wildly. "I should write a book. It would become so popular. New York Time's best selling material, obviously."

The boy shooting scoffed, stopping for a moment to look at Dustin.

"I saw the way you ogled at him," Dustin points out with a smug grin. "You can't deny that. And yeah, his family might've done some shit to Jane, but he wasn't there. And plus, we've all done some pretty horrible things in life, it's how Mafia's work."

Will nods. "Yeah, okay," he says, rolling his eyes. "But I never ogled at him."

Dustin just shrugs. "Sure dude," he says, still smirking. "And I never asked Suzie out on a date, these things have cease to exist."

His friend rolls his eyes. "Dude, stop comparing everything to your girlfriend," Will says.

The two continue to chat while shooting bullseyes.

<^> To Be Continued

(1k words)

Haha hey Stevie 😃