Burned

4

            Even though Louise was prospering in Camden Town, Alfie didn't let go of the grudge he had against her husband. He still noticed when the stitches on her stomach caused her pain. The slight wince crossing her features and the sharp gasp of discomfort. Tommy was hesitant to give the man's name to Alfie. But he gave in as long as Alfie promised not to do anything more than just break his nose or few fingers. After all, Louise didn't ask the Peaky Blinders to kill her husband.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~'

A few days passed and Alfie waited patiently, or as patiently as he could.

One night, after everyone had gone home, sounds of a scuffle started to kick up in the warehouse. Puzzled, Alfie stood up and reached for his gun. He opened the door and saw a few of his boys. "What you doing?" He strode over to them, pocketing his gun. "Fucking go home." His boots shuffled heavily across the concrete floor of the distillery. The metallic sounds of his cane echoing through the large warehouse.

"We found the man you were looking for, Mr. Solomons, Kelly." One of the boys shoved a lanky man to the floor. Offering him like a sacrificial lamb to their boss.

"Oh...very nice. Go on, stand up." Alfie poked at him with his cane as he tucked his gun away. He'd have to keep his finger off the trigger so he would limit himself to just physical force.

The man staggered to his feet, clutching his stomach in pain having been jumped while staggering out of the bar. "What hell do you think you're doin'?" He demanded.

The man reeked of alcohol and he was disheveled. He was taller than Alfie but looked like a weed, easy to snuff out but annoying as hell. One of those gits that didn't know when to quit. Alfie hated men like that.

"Daniel Kelly, correct?"

The man had dirty blonde hair sticking to his sweat covered forehead. He squinted and tried to size up the gangster boss through his gin-kaleidoscope vision. "Yeah, who's asking?"

"Well, that don't matter, do it? All that matters is you've been a bit unkind to one of me employees, yeah?" Alfie cracked his knuckles and gripped his cane tightly.

"Don't know what you're fuckin' talking' about." The man was too intoxicated to see what sort of danger he was in. It was a shame what gin did to inflate the ego. Alfie had killed a lot of men who were so hopped up on liquid courage that they didn't turn away when they had the chance. Pesky flies just begging to be smacked down by a biblical force.

"Don't even know who you are, mate. Where am I?"

"Now why would a man harm his wife?" Alfie looked at his boys. "Any guesses, lads?"

They didn't respond, knowing their boss was just working up to the finale of caving the man's face in. It wasn't wise to interrupt his monologue lest they wanted to join the victim.

"No? I've got one." He raised his right hand as if he'd come to a divine epiphany. "Maybe, right, he's a fucking lowlife and a drunk who don't deserve someone like her. What you think, mate?"

"Louise?" Daniel furrowed his eyebrows and his lanky body wavered, trying to stay upright. "You talkin' 'bout me wife?"

Alfie didn't answer. He was on a roll of working himself up, stroking his temper like a feral tiger ready to be unleashed. "Thing is, I like going through me day without having to come across fucking scum of the Earth, like you." He jabbed his finger at his chest. "I also prefer women not get taking advantage of. You fucking think you're tough, yeah? Picking on a girl half your size. Think it makes you man?"

"Bigger man than you," Daniel smirked and looked down at the Jewish gangster. "Fucking little man."

Alfie just chuckled darkly. His associates knew that was the last straw and braced themselves for impact.