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“Actually, dear Uncle Ernie,” Danny whispers, menace rife in his tone. My legs give, and I drop back to my seat, staring across the table at Danny looking positively murderous, and Ernie looking half-shocked, half-furious. “I think you’ll find that this is the beginning of your end.” Danny draws a neat line across Ernie’s throat, not too deep, but enough to show he’s not fucking about. Then he releases him, picking up a napkin and wiping the blade through the material before retaking his seat next to me. What is he doing? Danny picks up his spoon and stirs up the soup in his bowl, reaching for some bread as he does. “Tell me all about your plan to kill me off. I could do with some laughter in my life right now.”
Ernie sneers, wiping at his throat with a napkin before inspecting the blood staining it. Then he knocks back his drink. The action stretches his neck, forcing the slice open, beads of blood trickling down and meeting the collar of his shirt. “You’re nothing but a bastard,” he spits.
I flick nervous eyes to Danny, seeing his hold of the spoon tighten to the point his knuckles are bloodless. “How long have you and Nox been friendly?” Danny asks. “Ten years? Or did you have dealings before you gave Rose to him after rescuing her from the streets and having her raped?” Danny sinks his teeth into the bread and rips off a piece, eyes trained on Ernie.
“He wants rid of you,” Ernie states. “I want the boatyard and you gone too. Perfect partnership.” He motions to me, smiling evilly. “You made it easier when your dick took charge of your brain.”
“Except it’s you who’s sitting here now with two guns aimed at your head.”
Ernie looks at me like I’m dirt. “As far as whores go, she’s a good one, yes?”
I cry out when Danny literally throws himself across the table, taking Ernie from his chair and slamming him to his back on the floor. The knife is in his hand again, piercing another part of his uncle’s throat. “Pops would be ashamed of you,” Danny hisses in his uncle’s face. “You filthy piece of shit. All this time you’ve been playing the good guy, the law-abiding citizen, the saint, the respected member of the family.”
“He wasn’t your father, bastard. You’re not even blood. My cousin was weak and pathetic. If he wanted a kid, he should have just come to me.” Ernie grins, and I flinch in my chair. “Picking up some fucking waif and stray off a London street. Signing everything over to a bastard kid. The man had lost his stupid mind.” He looks at me. “And Nox assured me he could keep you to heel.”
Danny smiles, taking the steak knife and dragging it deeply through Ernie’s face, from his eye to his lip. Blood gushes from the cut instantly. “Now we match,” Danny taunts.
“You won’t get out of here alive. The moment I’m dead, the men out there will be coming after you. So go on, kill me. Do it.”
“As much as I’d love to gut you and carve you up, I’m not going to kill you.” Danny pushes himself to his feet, wiping his knife on the napkin once again. He’s not going to kill him? Is he mad? Danny points to me. “She is.”
She is? “What?” I turn back to Brad and Ringo, like I may have forgotten that they’re both men. “Me?”
“I told you tonight would be good.”
My gasp pushes me back in my chair, my fingers clawing into the arms. “You knew?” I ask, my eyes flicking to Ernie. “You knew he was working with Nox? You knew he was going to try and kill you?” He could have fucking told me! “You knew he was the man who took my son from me?”
Danny reaches for Ernie’s neck, pulling out a chain that’s tucked behind his shirt. I nearly choke when I see the serpent ring dangling from it, the green eyes as evil and bright as I remember.
It forces me farther back in my chair. “Oh my God.”
“You mentioned this.” Danny drops the chain. “My father had one too. A gift to them both from their grandfather. Ernie’s fingers got too fat for it so he started wearing it on a chain a few years ago.” Danny looks at him like he’s filth. “You always hated living in Pops’s shadow, didn’t you, Ernie?”
“Fuck you, bastard.”
That word. Bastard. I see it turn something in Danny, just like it has so many times before. But he doesn’t go psycho. Instead, he calmly kneels and takes Ernie’s hand, splaying his fingers on the floor. Then he rests the knife on his little finger and starts sawing back and forth, making Ernie squeal like a pig. I look away, sickened by the sight. The screams go on and on, piercing and shrill, forcing Danny to stuff a napkin in Ernie’s mouth to muffle the sound, and Brad and Ringo to become extra watchful at their posts, looking out for any men who may come to investigate.
