Kings of Anarchy Read online

  I backed up until I could grab my clothes from my bag, tugging on a pair of boxers and charcoal grey pants before adding socks and lacing a pair of fancy ass shoes on my feet. It was made harder to concentrate on my task as Tatum moaned and panted opposite me, her fingers driving in and out of that tight pussy while she played her clit just the way she liked it and I took notes for later.

  As I threaded my belt through the loops, I was gifted all kinds of ideas about how I’d like to string her up and ruin her and I had to re-buckle it as the thought of that and the sight of her working herself had me fucking it up.

  I shrugged into a black shirt, hooking the buttons together over my tattooed torso as I approached her again and her moans got louder.

  I watched the fucking perfect way her face contorted with pleasure as she worked herself into a frenzy and I pushed her panties aside just as her moans got louder. I drove two fingers deep inside her right as she came, her pussy clamping down hard around me as I kissed her to taste that fucking pleasure on her tongue.

  "You're such an asshole," she panted against my mouth as I pumped my fingers a few times to prolong her orgasm before drawing them back out and fixing her underwear for her.

  I sucked her wetness from my fingers and hers as I chuckled darkly.

  "Yeah, baby, I am. But I promise that was barely even the warm up. Tonight I'll show you just how generous I can be when I want to. But right now, we need to run."

  I lifted her back down from the dresser, straightening her dress and wiping some smeared red lipstick from the side of her mouth as she wiped some from my lips in return.

  As soon as we looked near enough to respectable, we hurried for the door and I quickly tied my topknot into place before sweeping her off of her feet and tossing her over my shoulder so that we could go faster without her stilettos slowing us down. Saint had really been onto something with those shoes though. They were high as fuck with red soles which I wanted to look at while I bent her over and drove her to ruin beneath me. That shit would definitely be happening tonight.

  Tatum gave me half assed protests as I jogged down the stairs with her slung over my shoulder and I slapped her ass to tell her off as I kept going all the way to the huge dining room at the back of the house.

  I placed her on her feet just as we reached the doors and tugged her inside where a huge oak table ran the full length of the enormous space. It looked like Christmas had thrown up in here; there were two tall trees at either end of the table and the fireplace roared with fancy ass stockings hanging around it. The table itself was laid out with red and gold place settings and bits of holly and shit looking all fancy. I would have made a derisive comment, but Tatum looked like she kinda loved it, so I decided to rein in the asshole in me for once.

  Liam caught my eye from the head of the table where two empty seats sat waiting and inclined his head towards them. Of course all of my eight uncles would be here with their wives and I spotted my parents too, though they only waved at me from the far end of the table in acknowledgment of my presence. It might have seemed odd to some people, but I really had no relationship with my parents anymore. I’d been raised by nannies for the most part and had spent more time with Liam and my uncles than them once I was old enough to learn the joy of the family trades. I was just a means to an end for them, the heir they’d been required to provide and they were just DNA donors to me. I wasn’t going to cry myself to sleep over it. I’d cut myself off from them after I’d been forced to initiate at Royaume D’élite and unlike Liam, they didn’t have enough sway over me to force me back into the fold with them.

  A few of my cousins had been invited as well, but there weren't many who had made enough of a name for themselves to get an invite. Let alone a plus one. Couple that with the fact that I was being offered pride of place at Liam's side and I basically had a whole table full of O'Briens shooting me less than subtle death glares.

  That should have been terrifying, but I'd long since stopped giving a shit about the ire of my extended family. Because the truth was, we all lived and died by Liam's command around here, so even my uncle Niall who was a total psychopath, wouldn't do shit to me unless Liam ordered it. But the way they were looking at Tatum made my hackles rise. We might have had an unspoken law about never hurting our own family in any permanent way, but she wasn't family. Partners were always fair game until they married in. Which meant my cousins and uncles could do whatever the fuck they wanted to her and Liam wouldn't raise a single finger to stop them. If I wanted to keep her safe, then that was all on me. Luckily enough, I knew I was the strongest son of a bitch here so I was confident I could do it if I had to. But I definitely wouldn't be letting her out of my sight.

  We took our seats, settling into the cloud of smoke which hovered over the table from my chain-smoking relatives and I leaned back in my chair as Martha and the other staff appeared with the food and began laying it all out on the table.

  I noticed the seat opposite mine was empty and as I looked down the table at my assembled unwanted family members, I realised that my most dangerous, and favourite, uncle was missing.

  "Where's Niall?" I asked casually as the rest of my family started up their posturing crap, boasting about the money they’d earned the family this year and trying to point score off each other while in ear shot of the head of the family.

  Not that I ever got the impression Liam cared much. I was pretty sure he had every single dollar that had passed hands within his criminal empire marked down and accounted for and that he knew exactly which family member was responsible for bringing it in. But that didn’t seem to be what he was looking for in those he offered favour to. I mean, why the fuck was I being gifted a seat at his left hand tonight when I'd literally tried to cut ties with this fucking family a few months ago and never look back? I certainly wasn't earning them any money either. The only money I earned came from taking part in the illegal fights I attended in Murkwell and I certainly never shared so much as a dime of that with this bunch of assholes.

  "He's taking care of something," Liam said dismissively, letting me know that his youngest son had earned a free pass for being late with whatever task he was currently performing.

  My uncle Connor took up the chance to dominate Liam's attention with some rambling story about an enforcing job he'd carried out last week and I let him more than happily, relaxing back into my chair and digging into the food in front of me.

  "So how much is Kyan paying you to sit there with him, sweetie pie?" Dougal asked from Tatum's other side, leaning in close and releasing a puff of smoke in her face. Every fucker at the table was smoking of course, though I didn’t feel the need to join them just yet.

  "Kyan doesn't need to pay me for my company," my girl replied coolly, stabbing her broccoli. "I'm his and he's mine."

  "Well, property is always up for sale..." Dougal leaned forward and laid a hand on her thigh with a leering smile and she smacked it away with a snarl of rage, but I wasn't going to leave it at that.

  I twisted my fork in my grip, shoved to my feet and slammed the piece of silverware straight down into his other hand which was lying flat on the table.

  Dougal roared in pain, the cigarette falling from his lips and bouncing onto the table as he tore the fork free, clutching his hand to his chest and blood spilled down his arm.

  Everyone at the table stopped eating to stare at us as I shoved my chair over and rounded Tatum to grab the front of Dougal's shirt and pull his face close to mine.

  "Do I need to beat your ass in front of the entire family, or are you going to apologise to my girl?" I snarled in his face.

  Dougal sneered at me as he clutched his bleeding hand to his chest before glancing around at the assembled family members and clearly taking a moment to figure out his odds. But I had about fifty pounds of muscle on him as well as the rage of a demon and he knew well enough that he was outmatched. The rules of the family said I couldn’t kill him, beating the fuck out of him was fair game.

 
He barked a laugh as he yanked himself out of my grasp and sketched a mocking bow to Tatum who was still sitting in her chair. To her credit, she was hiding her shock well, looking up at us as she watched this drama play out. But in reality, this was barely even the start of the shit that would happen today if history was anything to go by. The more the family drank and smoked and talked shit, the more brawls would break out.

  One year my cousin Aiden was stabbed so bad he bled out. But he had been fucking Dermot's girl, so I wasn't sure what else he'd expected to get. Liam let Dermot off for that death seeing as he’d only stabbed the fucker in the leg and it was really just bad luck he’d hit the artery. He had cut two of the fingers from his left hand in payment for it though, which had kinda ruined my appetite for the Christmas pudding. Of course, I’d only been nine then so my stomach hadn’t been as strong as it was these days. I was pretty sure I wouldn’t even bat an eye at some brain splatter while I ate my meal today unless some of it actually got on my plate. And even then I’d just have to dish up a new one.

  "I didn't mean to cause any offence, pretty girl," Dougal said, dipping his head to Tatum and making a joke out of bowing too much. "Will you accept my apologies?"

  "I can still beat the shit out of him if you want me to, baby?" I offered. "Or you can do the honours if you prefer?'

  Tatum made a show of considering her options, picked up Dougal's dropped cigarette from the table and took her time stubbing it out in the middle of his plate of food.

  "That's okay. No harm done," she said and everyone else quickly lost interest in us and went back to eating and drinking.

  I dropped back into my seat and Dougal headed off to bandage up his hand.

  "I'm glad I didn't have to kill you, lad," Liam said casually, aiming an appreciative smile my way which made my blood run cold. "Because you have a role to fill. As soon as you graduate, I think it would make sense for your daddy to start looking at retirement, don't you? And then you can step up and lead us from the front like you were born to."

  His gaze slid from me as I clenched my jaw, to Tatum sitting at my side and I caught the not so subtle threat there. I was going to have to fall into line or she'd be the one paying for my disobedience. But I'd known that when I made that call to Niall and I'd done it anyway. To save Saint. To keep all of us out of prison. I was going to have to give up my freedom and bow to his desires for the rest of my life. Or at least the rest of his. And I knew deep down that that would slowly suffocate me, that I'd be drawn deeper and deeper into their darkness. That I'd be pushed to kill and bleed for them before long. The price always increasing. Because they had me now that they knew about her. And there was nothing I could do to protect her from them aside from bow my head and fall into line.

  "Sounds like you've got it all figured out," I said in a flat tone. "You just say jump and I'll ask how high."

  The sour taste those words left in my mouth were countered somewhat by the warm hand which took mine beneath the table. She ran her fingers over my scarred knuckles and soothed the beast within me with that touch alone, giving me the strength to bite my tongue and keep the rage locked inside me.

  I moved my hand onto her knee and slowly teased the slit in the fabric apart as my fingers slipped over her butter soft skin.

  More members of our family spoke with us as we ate and every time they pissed me off, I slid my fingers higher, loving the little gasps that passed her lips for every inch I gained. It was one of the best remedies to my temper that I’d ever come across.

  The rest of the meal passed without too many incidents. A few punches were thrown, everyone got louder and louder. More cigarettes and booze were consumed than could easily be counted and Liam continued to lord it over everyone like he thought he was a god or something.

  Tatum shifted close to me in her chair and I turned to look at her as her fingertips traced the line of my fly for a moment that didn't last nearly long enough.

  The doors banged open and my uncle Niall finally appeared, interrupting us before I could find out if she might have been planning to do it again.

  Everyone looked his way as he strode in dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt flecked with blood, his muscular, tattooed arms tensed and gleaming with sweat as if he'd just been working out. His dirty blond hair was pushed out of his eyes and his piercing green gaze dropped on Tatum instantly as a hungry grin captured his lips.

  I tensed on instinct as he drew closer to my girl. I wasn't afraid to take on any of my relatives 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 unti
l 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 at least.

  "Upsetting?" I scoffed. "I'm fighting the urge to go down there and rip every one of those motherfuckers apart. Starting with my fucking grandpa."

  "So what's stopping you?" she asked, moving closer instead of backing away which seemed like a dumb move considering how fucking angry I was right now.

  "This family is like a fucking hydra. You cut off one head and two more will just sprout in their place. If I killed him, then the rest would come for me. And I might be good, but I can't take on every one of them. Though one day I probably would have done it. In fact I should have, before they figured out where to strike at me to actually make me bleed."

  Tatum frowned like she didn't understand what I meant and I cursed as I turned away from the deep blue of her eyes and strode across the room, tugging open the buttons closest to my throat so that I could breathe easier.

  But my blood was up now. I knew there was no relief to be found from me outside of the fight.

  "You mean they'd come after me and the Night Keepers?" her voice came from too close to me and I stalked away as I muttered a confirmation.

  It was fucking infuriating. It felt like being castrated. My whole life was going to be taken from me now. I'd be forced to become the puppet I'd always sworn I'd never become. I'd have to return to Royaume D’élite as well, even though I'd vowed I'd never set foot in that fucked up place again.

  I yanked my hair free of its tie as I began pacing.

  "You don't have the faintest idea of what these people are mixed up in," I muttered, mostly to myself as memories I didn't want to be having were forcing themselves in on me and making me take note of them and it was only making my anger rise.