Out Of Time | A Shelby

twenty seven

Arthur stood outside Henry Lewis' house with his heart thumping so hard he swore everyone passing him in the street could hear it.

He looked up at the house. It was the same as all the houses in Small Heath, each of them having the same shell but inside their walls told a different story. Arthur wanted to put number 36's story to rest.

He knocked on the door and stood tall with his hands behind his back, taking deep breaths to steady himself and not let his rage get the better of him.

The door opened not half a minute later, revealing Henry stood in a three piece suit, adjusting the strap of his wrist watch as his eyes fell to Arthur.

"What do you want?"

Even the way he spoke made Arthur want to kill him. His eyes were black and he seemed to speak with the devil's tongue to match, spitting venom as he looked down at the Blinder.

"I think you know why I'm here, Mr Lewis."

Henry shrugged his shoulders and looked Arthur up and down nonchalantly, his eyes showing he was clearly not threatened by the unexpected visit that evening.

"Something to do with Nancy, maybe?"

Arthur felt sick when he said her name. He hated the way his voice sounded and the fact that he even had the nerve to speak of her after what he'd done.

He clenched his jaw, not being able to forget the awful scene replaying in his imagination of what Henry had subjected Nancy to when he should've been there to protect her.

And Henry was stood there, smiling with confidence, totally unaffected by his actions when the woman and child Arthur loved were slowly falling apart because of him.

"You know," Henry began, fixing the cuffs of his shirt, "You should really do a better job at fucking her. She didn't seem too happy when I went round the other day so I had to-"

Arthur couldn't take it anymore. He'd promised himself that he'd play it safe, that he'd keep a level head and not over react or go out on a limb, knowing the way Henry would antagonise him. But that didn't happen.

He landed a single punch between Henry's eyes, sending him flying backwards into his house. Arthur stepped inside and kicked the door closed with his heel before slamming the side of his foot into Henry's head as if it were a football.

Blood spilled out onto the floor and onto the furniture as Arthur continued to beat him, sweat dripping down his forehead and spit flying from his mouth the angrier he became as Henry just lay there laughing.

"Fucking Hell Arthur, you were supposed to wait for us!"

John and Tommy came barging through the back door of Henry's home, guns at the ready, only they quickly realised they wouldn't be needed.

Arthur said nothing to his brothers as he held Henry's head up by the collar of his blood-stained shirt, glaring into his eyes as their faces were inches apart, spitting on him before throwing his head back down onto the wood.

Thomas wandered around the front room, picking up an unopened bottle of whiskey and reading the label.

"We'll take this, it looks nice."

John laughed and shook his head at his brother before helping Arthur to his feet, leaving Henry sat barely breathing on the floor.

Arthur perched on the arm of a chair beside the fireplace. He looked up and saw a framed picture of Henry, Nancy and Vincent still sitting there, pride of place above the fire and beside another photograph of Nancy and Henry on their wedding day.

It made Arthur feel sick looking at them, but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to look away. It made him furious that Henry had Nancy all to himself, the beautiful, sweet, selfless Nancy that any man would be lucky to even spend an hour with, and he completely ruined her soul.

Arthur took the photograph out of the frame and tore away the half with Henry on, leaving Nancy and Vincent stood together smiling, resting against the wall.

"Our wedding day," Henry mumbled, grinning mercilessly through bloody teeth as he looked up at Arthur, "The happiest day of my life."

"Shut the fuck up." John stood on Henry's left wrist and twisted his hand, all four of them heading his bones crunch under the strain, followed by a horrific scream.

"You know," Henry continued a few moments after having his wrist mangled, his speech slow and heavy as he tried to keep breathing, "When I visited Nancy the other day,"

Arthur turned his head away from the photograph to look at Henry, standing up and moving away from the fireplace at the notice of hearing Nancy's name spoken again.

"When she was crying, when she was pleading with me and begging me not to hurt her," he panted, spitting out a mouthful of blood, "She was saying your name. She was screaming out for you to come and save her, telling me that you'd come and kill me."

Arthur had done his best since the war to control his anger. He knew he shouldn't act irrationally, he knew that he had to teach himself to slow down and think about things before he acted on them, only this situation wasn't one of those times.

John and Thomas both looked at their brother as the words left Henry's lips, knowing exactly what was about to happen. Arthur's face turned. He flushed red with rage and his eyes turned dark, his fists balled and his jaw clenched as he sent the first blow into Henry's head.

Henry scrambled on the floor, kicking Arthur in the chest but not hard enough to throw him off. Thomas and John watched for a moment before realising they needed to step in and help their brother. John was seething with anger at Henry but he knew that this was Arthur's job, not his.

John took Henry by the neck and held him steady, forcing him to look up at Arthur who loomed over him, his shoulders rising and falling as he panted in anger like a ravenous dog.

Thomas stood in the corner with the whiskey, watching his big brother with a tiny, proud smile on his lips.

"Do it Arthur, take his eyes." John said, squeezing Henry's neck with his forearm.

Henry laughed, "I dare you."

As he looked down at Henry, Arthur wished that he'd taken advantage of this situation when it happened the first time in The Garrison.

He took his cap off and held it in his fist, taking one last look at Henry before swiping the blade across his eyes and watching the blood pour down his face and hearing him scream louder than he'd ever heard any man scream in his life.

John let go of Henry and let him slump down onto the floor, screaming in pain and clawing at his eyes desperately.

"Brother," Thomas placed his hand on Arthur's shoulder as he stood tall and watched Henry, handing him a gun, "Here."

Arthur took the gun from Thomas's hand. He opened the chamber and emptied the bullets out onto the floor, each of them rattling against the wood.

He reached into the inside pocket of his blazer and pulled out a single bullet with Henry etched onto the side, throwing it into the chamber and spinning it round to the beginning.

John spat on Henry's face as he walked past him to join his brothers, a smile on his face, too, as he enjoyed the pain that the man was finally enduring his share of.

"Finish it," John said, looking over at the torn picture of Nancy and Vincent on the fireplace, "For them."

And so, Arthur did.