one on one. The problem with Niall was that he was so fucking unpredictable. I'd seen him laughing with a man one minute and stabbing him to death in the next and I'd never even found out what had made him flip. He was a wild card and you never knew when he was at his most dangerous.
He was Liam’s youngest son and my mom was second oldest which meant he was actually only thirty two and he had a sense of youth and fun about him that most of my other uncles were lacking. Of course, his idea of fun usually meant someone was dying, but I had my own taste for bloodlust, so who was I to judge?
"Ho ho ho!" Niall called, swinging a red sack in his hands and pulling a Santa hat from his back pocket to shove down over his blond hair. "Who asked for a traitor's head in their stocking?"
"Is that really..." Tatum began and I sighed heavily as I wound an arm around her shoulders and tugged her a bit closer.
"Pretty sure it is," I muttered. "Sorry, baby. But I did tell you I was born of monsters."
Niall leapt up onto the table before my grandfather with a wide grin on his face as he shook the sack enticingly. "Have you been a good boy this year?" he asked as two round lumps pressed through the sack and dripped blood onto the tablecloth.
"Some of you may have been wondering why Patrick and his wife weren't invited tonight," Liam said loud enough to draw all attention his way and moving to lean back in his chair so that the blood didn’t stain his clothes. "But they actually were. I found out that they were cutting an extra twenty percent of their take to keep for themselves. So, I decided to take the twenty percent back from them in flesh. I suppose Niall could have cut it from the bottom, but taking it off of the top seemed so much simpler somehow."
Niall laughed loudly and up-ended the sack over the table. I was on my feet and tugging Tatum behind my back before she had to look at the two heads which thumped down onto the dinner plates and her tight grip on my hand was the only thing keeping me still as I looked at the severed head of my cousin. He’d been a money grabbing dick, but still…
"Never forget where your loyalties lie," Liam called over the silence, his gaze cutting to me and letting me know exactly who this warning was really meant for. "Blood is thicker than water."
"Don't I know it," I replied, turning and heading from the room with Tatum's hand curled tight in mine.
“Merry Christmas, Kyan!” Niall called after us and I looked back to him with a big ass smile on my face like this had just been the most perfect day imaginable.
“Happy Christmas, motherfucker,” I replied and he cackled like a mad man before kicking one of the heads off of the table like it was a soccer ball.
Tatum scrunched her nose up and I tightened my grip on her as I drew her along with me. I knew how this went, everyone was drunk and rowdy and ready to start talking shit as the party wrapped up and there was no need for us to participate in that bullshit.
Nobody made any attempt to stop us from leaving which let me know well enough that the point had been made and Liam believed I'd been successfully brought to heel. The worst thing about that was that I was pretty sure he was right.
We walked in silence all the way back up to the room we'd been given and when I finally closed the bedroom door behind us, I leaned back against the wood with a growl of frustration.
My fists were bunching at my sides and my jaw was clenched so hard I was in danger of cracking a fucking tooth. I needed to hit something. No, someone. I needed to feel the sweet relief of venting my rage on flesh and blood and pounding and pounding until bones cracked and blood poured.
"Do you want to tell me what part of that is upsetting you most?" Tatum asked, moving to stand before me with her chin high and no sign at all that she was freaked out by what she'd just been a witness to. Maybe she hadn't seen it. Maybe I'd spared her the sight of it