Sergio

 

I SLID MY arms around Val’s waist, my chin resting on her head. “One day, I’m going to kill him. He keeps pushing.”

She gripped my forearms. “Just don’t get blood on the carpet.”

“Haha.” I rolled my eyes and turned her to face me. “I’m not kidding, Val, Dante’s just asking for one of us to slip up and finish him, he’s angry ninety nine percent of the time.”

“And the other one percent?” Damn I hated how hopeful her eyes were.

“He’s freaking sleeping.”

“Oh.” Her face fell and then Dante breezed by us a cookie hanging out of his mouth and a hint of a smile on his face.

“Holy shit of all Christmas miracles.” Chase walked into the room at the same time. “Is our little protégé… smiling?”

Dante flipped him off.

“Two seconds.” Chase winked at us. “New record.”

“I think you guys just make it worse.” Val groaned shaking her head. “You could try to just be less—” She pointed at Chase, “Just less.”

“What?” Chase grabbed a Christmas cookie and shoved almost the entire thing in his mouth. “We need milk.”

Val crossed her arms. “You know how to drive, you get it.”

His smirk was making me itch to toss a sharp knife at his head and actually hit my target. “But your milk tastes so much better, Val.”

“That’s it.” I charged toward him.

“Thank God, I’ve been itching for a fight.” Chase probably felt as relieved as I did — none of us guys did well with sitting around the house.

Chase peeled off his shirt.

I followed suit.

“Come on, old man, hit me.” Chase bounced from foot to foot. I waited to see if he went with his usual pattern, which he did, because it was Chase and he favored his right foot even though he almost always started with his left leading.

I kicked at his right foot, then slammed my shin into his thigh sending him backward against the pantry, he stumble stepped then laid a sucker punch against my left ear.

“Shit!” I yelled. “I hate it when you do that!”

“Well then stop channeling a ninja, you freak!” He lunged for me, I kneed him in the chest then got in a right hook before Tex walked into the room, took one look at us, and jerked his shirt off.

“I got next.” Was all he said, just waiting for one of us to pass out from blood loss, then, “Nixon! Phoenix, we got us a Christmas Brawl!”

“Damn it, Tex, I can’t concentrate with you yelling that loud!” Chase turned just slightly enough for me to get in another two punches to his head.

“Thanks, Tex.” He still hated me at least half the time, his scowl said he was pissed he was helping me win.

“Computer hackers have no right to have that good of a punch.” Chase wiped blood from his nose, then popped his knuckles.

“Shit.” I backed up slightly.

“No guns!” Tex yelled, “No knives!”

Chase grinned.

He knew how good I was with both.

Nixon and Phoenix made bets.

“Does nobody want me to win?” Chase dodged another one of my kicks.

“When you win you don’t shut up about shit!” Phoenix yelled, “So no, and God I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Sergio, kick his ass.”

“What the F—”

My roundhouse kick knocked him right on the side of his head, he staggered to the ground, I jumped on him, and sank another two hits into his face, before blood caked my knuckles, chest heaving, I was finally jerked away from him.

“Dude, at least let me keep my teeth.” Chase grinned as blood trailed down his face, “Stupid kicks, I’d have you if kicks weren’t allowed.”

“Sure you would.” I rolled my eyes.

Chase used his discarded shirt to wipe the blood from his face and then let out a little roar. “God that felt good. Who’s got next?”

The girls, to their credit didn’t even look horrified.

Probably because the minute Chase said that, Mo walked in, pulled off her sweater and crooked her finger at Nixon, “You ready to get your ass kicked, brother?”

“Oh hell no.” Tex walked toward her, but she held a knife in the air and pointed the tip at his eye, he backed away with his hands in the air. “Sorry Nixon, she’s all yours.”

Nixon glared and cracked his neck. “No knives, sister. Or are you too afraid to take me on without them?”

I whistled and stood next to Tex, he handed me an ice pack, I pressed it against my face and winced.

“I’ve been practicing.” She beamed. I wasn’t about to confess to everyone that I’d been the one training her in between trying to help Nixon kick Dante’s ass.

The best part was that I knew Nixon would expect her typical fighting, scrappy style, not Muay Thai. I hid my grin behind my hand while she got into a boxing stance.

He sighed and then lifted his fists.

She leaned in to throw a fake punch.

Nixon being Nixon, and her brother, read her like a book and slapped her hand away as if to say, really? And then she jumped into the air and drove her foot into his stomach so hard he flew back and knocked his head against the sink.

Blood gushed from the back of his head, when he was done cursing he sent me a seething glare. “Thanks Serg.”

“Not my fault she caught you by surprise.” I shrugged.

“You keep your ninja skills to yourself!” Chase yelled.

“Hey Chase,” I pointed to his face, “You got a little something right here.”

“You piece of shit!” He charged toward me, but was intercepted by Phoenix.

“Do I get next then?” He asked the room.

Everyone fell silent.

Chase closed his eyes, like he’d suddenly died.

Even Tex took a step back.

“Seriously?” Phoenix crossed his arms, “Last time was a fluke!”

“A fluke?” I repeated. “Man, you nearly took Tex’s head off with a machete!”

“I didn’t know it was that sharp!”

“A likely story.” Tex flinched. “Besides, no way am I going up against your weird Israeli combat shit.”

“I will.” Trace’s voice rang out.

Nixon stood, then backed off.

We all knew better than to piss off our women, they were Italian, our best bet was to just let them yell and fight then kiss them into submission later.

Trace and Phoenix went at it for at least ten minutes before she finally struck, and part of me thinks he let her, she did just have a baby, but still, no way was I getting in the middle of their weird style of fighting, the kind that looked hard as hell to pull off and even harder to take since poking someone in the eye was literally an actual movement they had down so well they could do it with their eyes closed.

“Enough.” Nixon barked.

Phoenix smiled — which was rare, and then gave Trace a side hug. Nixon looked away.

I knew it was the only way he could deal with them touching.

A part of me wondered if the reason that Dante had the anger issues he did — all stemmed from Nixon — he held grudges and the man didn’t forget.

So basically, he was a mature Dante even though he only had a few years on him.

Dante was Nixon off of Xanax.

“I didn’t even get to go.” Tex pouted in the corner.

It was a bad idea.

I saw Dante’s quick movement, was about to tell him not to do it, instead he jerked the chair out from underneath Tex, then landed a punch to his face and started wailing on him.

Blood was everywhere.

Tex fought back.

Val tensed next to me.

“Let him.” I gripped her arm.

Dante was finally pulled away from a bleeding Tex, with two black eyes.

He stood to his full height, charged toward Dante, then punched him in the stomach, patted his head and said, “Good job.”

“This is the weirdest family ever.” Val whispered.

“You have no idea.” I snorted.