Freedom - John Shelby

11

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Knuckles white as he gripped the wheel, John raced to the shop without even thinking to pick up Ada - only able to focus on the rage. Red hot, blistering rage, fuelled by the haunting image of Alice's crumpled body. It taunted him like a ghostly apparition whilst the smokey, serpentine roads felt like they stretched on forever.

By time he got out of the car, slamming on the breaks in the middle of the street, his anger had reached new heights. Luckily, it wasn't particularly busy at the shop; just the usual workers sat around, and so there was no halt when John stormed into Tommy's office, immediately met by alert blue eyes.

"You're a fucking prick, you know that?" John's voice was instantly raised as he paced to his older brother, who didn't as much as flinch upon recognising the intruder. Tommy had already received a bollocking from Pol that morning and wasn't at all surprised to see John's furrowed brows and closed fists. Still though, he couldn't help but be annoyed by the disturbance - he was busy dealing with the other results of last night after all - so his mouth remained straight and his gaze unsympathetic.

"She's in hospital right now because of you! Do you even care?" John slammed a hand down onto the desk with a shout, desperate for even a crack in his brothers face. "Huh Tommy? Do you even give a fuck?"

"Yes John, I give a fuck. And that's why everything worked out, didn't it?" The patriarch responded flatly before lighting a cigarette.

"No it didn't all fucking work out! Did you not fucking hear me? What about her being hurt is bloody alright to you? Alice could've died last night." John growled in response, almost spitting in his fury.

This newfound opposition from one of his most loyal soldiers was starting to get under Tommy's skin.

"Well she can't be doing that bad if you're fucking here, can she John? Huh?" His eyes started to widen with irritated energy and his voice got gradually louder. "Because she ain't even your wife and you've gone soft for her! Where's your balls John, she fucking agreed to it and if there's an issue she can come speak to me. Are you a fucking carrier pigeon now?"

John gritted his teeth.

"No, I'm not fucking not. I'll tell you what you are though. You're a fucking cunt. An egotistical fucking cunt. And-"

"Well at least I've not gone soft for a nut job, John. Because that's what she is, a fucking nut job! And you plan on marrying her! You're even thicker than I thought-"

That was it. John leapt across the desk and punched Tommy's face, quickly earning an equal punch back as they started to brawl. The noise instantly caught the attention of everyone in the shop and Pol soon burst in with a drunken Arthur - only just awoken and still stumbling.

Her shouts were being ignored as the brothers hissed at each other in between their attacks, knocking over furniture and sending each other flying.

"You're just fucking bitter that your woman ain't ever coming back, but mine did. You're still fucked off over some clapped cavalry cunt!" John declared before shoving Tommy backwards with a scoff. He went to punch him again but his brother had suddenly floored him.

"Cus' she's such a woman ain't she John? Still acting like a bloody animal whenever there's any opportunity to do so!" Tommy had a grip on John's leg, dragging him with gritted teeth until he was also pulled to the ground.