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“Good luck,” John called over his shoulder. “Good luck and watch out for the cannon.”
My brow furrowed in confusion. “The cannon?”
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The cannon turned out to be Tadhg, perched on a stool on top of an impressive-looking treehouse, with a hurley in hand, and an unlimited supply of sliotars at his disposal.
“I told ya before, fatty,” he called out, lacing a sliotar full force in my direction. “Try and take over my fort again, and I’ll take the head clean off ya!”
“Jesus Christ,” I hissed, narrowly avoiding a ball to the face.
“I can do this all night,” my brother called out, letting another sliotar fly, clearly too busy taking fire to realize who he was firing at. “Pussy!”
“Little shit,” I grunted when he got me in the nuts. “I’ll give you pussy.” Tossing down the hurley I’d brought with me for him, I quickly hooked up a rogue sliotar with the one I’d claimed as my own and fired back at him.
Clearly, my ability to puck a sliotar hadn’t diminished one bit since my departure. In fact, it was a little too accurate. When the sliotar I pucked hit my brother square between the eyes, and he fell headfirst out of the tree, my heart stopped beating for a solid five seconds.
“Oh, shit,” I choked out, tossing the hurley away as I raced toward him. “Tadhg? Are ya dead?”
“No,” he growled, scrambling onto his feet and lunging for me. “But you’re about to be.”
The guilt I was feeling for the steady stream of blood trickling from his nose was enough to make me stand there and take my beating.
“Fucker,” he growled, wrestling me to the ground. “You broke my nose.”
“You broke my nuts,” I shot back, unable to stop myself from laughing at the outraged expression etched on his face as he attempted to pummel me into the grass. “You got big, kid.”
“Yeah, and you got skinny,” he countered, twisting and rolling around in the grass with me. “And I hope I did break your nuts.”
“Me too,” I agreed, rolling onto my back and letting him pin me. “On a scale of one to ten, how pissed are you?”
“Fourteen,” he hissed, pulling on my hair. “And a half.”
“What the fuck is this?” I laughed, bucking him off my lap. “Who taught you to pull hair? Shannon?”
“Actually, it was your girlfriend,” he countered. “When she was screaming my name.”
I narrowed my eyes in warning. “Tadhg.”
“Yes, Tadhg, yes!” he mocked.
“I’m warning ya.”
“Oh, Tadhg, you’re so much better than Joey.”
“You little shit.”
“You deserved it.” He chuckled, flopping onto his back beside me. “Asshole.”
“Yeah,” I panted. “I think we’ve already established I’m an asshole.”
“So, you’re back.”
“I’m back.”
He nudged my shoulder with his. “About fucking time.”
“I know, kid.” I nudged him back. “I missed you, too.”
