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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 5 years ago

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Blue Eyes Part 15

Summary: After the Garrison is shot up, the youngest Shelby daughter finds a new home in London. She strips herself of her last name and tries to live a peaceful life far away from her brothers’ chaos in Birmingham. But fate leads her right back into it after she runs into Alfie Solomons.

Part 15: Alfie gets revenge for a pup, Ella confesses. And after returning to London, they receive troubling news.

Warning for violence

//I hope everyone’s hanging in there and staying safe! Here’s an extra long chapter to pass the time if you need it!

When Ella heard the jingle of Cyril’s lead being pulled off the coat rack, she knew something was up. “Alfie?” She poked her head out of the kitchen to look down the hall.

He stood there, pulling on his coat and hat. Cyril was eagerly waiting by the door, his tail wagging and thumping against the wall beside him. “Yeah, love?”

“Where’re you off to? I’ve just started dinner, it’ll be done soon.” She rested a hand on her hip in disappointment. She was looking forward to having a nice dinner before showing him the outfits he’d bought for her.

“Need to take Cyril out.” He replied casually.

“I’ve already let him and Thea out just an hour before.”

It threw Alfie for a loop but he rolled with it. “Just want to make sure he’s got all his energy out. Don’t want him playing rough with the pup.”

Ella frowned but nodded. “Alright, but be quick or you’ll eat a cold dinner.”

He chuckled. “Be quick.” He agreed before leaving the cottage with Cyril trotting beside him.

~~~~~~~~~

Alfie walked down the sandy path towards the address the man had stupidly given him. As far as the gangster was concerned, the man sealed his own fate by beating on a puppy and giving out his address without a second thought.

The sun was just setting by the time he arrived at the small cottage. It was very similar to the one he owned. Although the garden was a little more well kept and tended to. It was clearly adored by someone. The roses were perfectly pruned and showed off every color and hue. A few vegetable plants lined the beds as well, chicken wire protecting them from the abundance of bunnies who roamed the area.

Alfie tied Cyril to the fence and entered the lawn. There were lights on in the cottage but the curtains were drawn. It didn’t deter him. He had a gun just in case things went a bit more south than he intended.

It was only fair to warn his victim, so he knocked on the door. Hindsight made him glad he did because a petite young woman opened the door. She had the same demeanor of a turtle who disliked looking outside of its shell. With thin blonde hair and curiously strong emerald green eyes, she was beautiful. But her face had been disfigured by a black eye and her neck had the telltale signs of bruising fingermarks.

“Can I help you?” She asked in a timid voice.

Alfie was caught off guard but composed himself. “Your husband home?”

“Peter? Yes, I…I’m sorry are you a friend of his?”

He was going to answer but an angry voice from inside interrupted him. “Gale, who the fuck are you talking to?”

“Stay outside.” Alfie ushered the woman out of the doorway and into the lawn. She was already cowering at the sound of her husband’s loud voice. Instinct causing her knees to buckle and hands to lift to her face for protection.

“You’re alright, stay out here.” He assured her again and stepped into the cottage.

The man, Peter, stepped into the hallway. He frowned at the sight of Alfie in his home. “You?”

“Yeah, mate, found your dog.” Alfie’s shoulders squared and he tucked a hand into his pocket just in case the fucker had a gun of his own.

“Don’t look like you have a dog. Where’d my wife go?” He demanded. His body swayed slightly and his eyes were bloodshot.

A drunk or high man was an easier target, although Alfie was hoping for a bit of a fight. He wanted to give the man exactly what he deserved. “Well she’s a home, don’t gotta worry ‘bout her. You think it’s fun to pick on things smaller than you, mate?” His eye twitched from the anger that was building.

“Whatever my wife said’s a lie.”

Alfie clenched and unclenched his fist a few times. “She didn’t say anything. I’ve got enough fucking intuition to know what’s going on.”

Peter took a shaky step backward. His eyes widened and his fingers fidgeted as if he were looking for a weapon or a way out. “I know the constable.”

“That’s neat, innit? I know lotsa coppers. I’ve killed my fair share of some too.” His face scrunched up. “But only those who fucking deserved it, yeah. One, right, one was beating on this chap for no good reason other than he were black.” He continued stalking towards the cowering man. “Another one thought it were a good idea to call me…what was it again…Jewish scum? Yeah, he screamed pretty loudly. They usually do. Cowards, the lot of them.”

Peter stumbled backward into the kitchen. His hands flailing out to catch himself. But he missed a nearby chair and fell.

Alfie towered over him. “Most recent one? That fucker decided to assault me cousin. A fucking blind little girl. Innocent. Helpless. A grown man taking advantage of a woman. Disgusting, innit? Or what ‘bout a defenseless little pup?” Alfie pressed his boot down against Peter’s chest so he couldn’t get back up. Increasing pressure whenever he tried to inhale. He wanted the man to be in as much discomfort as humanly possible before he finished the deed. “Don’t fucking like men like you.” He hissed. “You don’t deserve to breathe the same oxygen as me, mate.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I won’t ever do it again. I promise!” Peter’s eyes were filled with tears as he wheezed out a panicked apology.

“Oh good.” Alfie moved his foot from his chest and held out a hand.

Relief flooded the wiry man’s face and he took Alfie’s hand to stand up. He was right-handed then.

Once he was stood up again, Alfie punched him so hard he was certain he’d broken the man’s jaw. “Don’t you fucking dare bleed in this house.” He snarled. “Your wife’s innocent and she ain’t gonna be questioned by your fucking copper friends.” Alfie snatched up a nearby dish towel and carefully wrapped his pistol in it. He wiped it down as Peter clutched his face, whimpering in pain.

“Now fucking walk.” Alfie pointed the gun at the man’s head.

Peter shakily raised his hands in surrender, his jaw already starting to swell. “Wh-where…”

“Outside,” Alfie instructed calmly and led the man out the back door at gunpoint.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The cottage lights dimly lit the sandy pathway down to the beach. The ocean swirled and stormed angrily, a black mass pounding at the shoreline. Clouds covered up any glimpse of the moon or stars.

“Please…pl-please I’ll never hurt her again.” Peter continued to stammer on their way to the beach.

“Your damn right you won’t. Dead men can’t assault their wives, now can they?” Alfie retorted.

“Please!”

He heard enough of his whining and pistol-whipped him across the face. “Men like you never change. Ain’t no second chances for you.” He knocked Peter’s feet out from under him, forcing him to his knees. The man tipped forward but Alfie grabbed him by the collar, pulling him back upright.

“Men like you don’t last long in my part of the city. They end up dead in the worst possible ways.” Alfie crouched down in front of the man, making sure the gun wasn’t within his reach. Although Alfie wouldn’t have minded if the man challenged him. But he didn’t want to return back to the cottage a bit banged up. Ella would certainly ask questions if Peter managed to get a hit in.

Peter choked out a sob. Sweat poured down his temple, staining the collar of his disheveled shirt. It was cold out on the shore but the alcohol in his blood boiled his adrenaline.

“Yeah…didya think ‘bout your wife? Did she cry?” Alfie spoke in a low voice just over the sound of the waves behind them. His eyes narrowed.

“I-I…”

He stood and kicked Peter right in the side, making the man yelp in pain and double over. His face pressing to the sand, leaving a sticky mess of blood on the pristine beach. Peter coughed violently and grabbed his ribs.

Alfie loomed over him, his face shadowed over. “What’d you think? Your coppers friends are gonna find you here or will the tide come in and fucking wash you away?”

Peter’s blood-shot eyes closed and he moaned in pain. “Please…”

With a grim chuckle, he grabbed the man by the collar again and yanked him back up to his knees. “World ain’t gonna miss you.” He cocked his gun and pressed it against the man’s temple. But he didn’t shoot him right away. Instead, he waited, forcing the man to wait for death. Hoping to instill the fear that he caused his wife and Anthea.

Alfie counted the number of times the current rolled in. Waited for five and pulled the trigger.

True to form, the cowardly man died instantly and slumped onto the beach. His limp body sunk into the damp sand, blood still trickling out from under him. Alfie glared at the dead body for a second before wiping the gun down again and chucking the weapon into the ocean.

~~~~~~~~~

Peter was left on the beach and Alfie made the walk back up to the cottage. He walked around the area of the fence and found Peter’s wife, Gale cowering by the gate. She was knelt down by Cyril who was sitting protectively by her.

Her green eyes widened when she saw Alfie’s dark shadow emerge from the bluffs. “Please, I-I have jewelry under the bed. We d-don’t have much money.” Tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Easy, easy, m’not here to hurt you,” Alfie spoke gently as to not frighten her further.

Still unsure, Gale made herself as small as possible against Cyril. “Where is my husband?” Stress and fear had taken its toll on her for the years she was trapped in an abusive marriage. She was thin, pale, face gaunt, and still sporting older injuries. It was obvious she was more comfortable with Cyril than Alfie.

“He’s erm…perhaps you have relatives to stay with?”

Gale chewed on her lower lip. “Is he coming back?” She whispered. A learned volume. Never did she want to raise her voice in fear she would attract attention and anger from Peter.

“No,” Alfie answered bluntly and shook his head. “But you ought to gather some things. The police won’t bother you but I don’t want you to be here when they arrive.”

A mixture of relief and apprehension split her expression. “Okay.” She shakily stood up but her hand lingered on Cyril.

“I’ve got money if you need it. But the further you can get away, the better.”

Tears still filled her eyes. But it was simply confusion. She’d been granted freedom away from an awful man. “I-I’ve got family in Wales an-and some money saved.”

Alfie nodded. “I’ll watch the house while you get your things, just what you can travel with.”

Gale’s face wrinkled in concern. She went to enter the gate again but paused. “Is the pup okay?”

“She’s alright. Should heal in week’s time.”

Her lower lip quivered. “He killed the others…” She admitted, her voice cracking. “I let her out hoping she’d make it out alive. I-I didn’t know what else to do.”

Alfie swallowed hard and considered going back to the beach to shoot the abuser again. But he risked drawing attention from neighbors. “You’re safe now.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It was late when Alfie returned from escorting Gale to the train station. Cyril found Ella and Anthea in the reading room. The pitbull puppy curled up in her lap.

“I was ‘bout to send out a search party for you!” Ella exclaimed when she heard Alfie’s heavy boots on the old hardwood floors. “Where on Earth did you go off to?”

He sat down heavily on the sofa beside her. “Don’t want you to be angry but I ain’t gonna fucking lie to you either.”

Anthea yipped happily and scrambled over Ella’s lap to Alfie. He smiled, happy to see another one of Peter’s victims happy.

Ella frowned. “What’d you do?” She asked in a warning tone.

He picked up the puppy and cuddled her close to his chest. Her little paws scrambling up against his shoulder. “When I were at the shop, I ran into the man who hurt Anthea.”

The news caused a sharp reaction in Ella. Something that she’d learned by instinct from either John or Arthur. A snap of anger that sparked in her gut and nearly caused a physical jolt. “Well, where is the fucker?”

“Dead,” Alfie admitted. “His wife…he’d abused her too.”

She cooled off a bit when she realized he’d already gotten justice for the newest addition of their home. “Where did you kill him?”

“On the beach.” Alfie returned Anthea to Ella’s lap so he could slip off his boots. Wet sand still stuck to the soles and crumbled onto the rug. “I brought her to the station. I’ll make sure the police rule it a suicide.”

Ella nodded and sighed. “Even on holiday…”

“I’m sorry, love.” He winced. Of course, he wasn’t planning on killing anyone there.

“Don’t apologize.” She curled up against him, draping her legs over his lap. “I’d’ve done the same thing you just got to him first.”

A hint of a smile tugged at his lips. “Shelby girl.” He teased.

She laughed quietly but it faded. His honesty triggered guilt. “I’d like to tell you ‘bout the call I made this afternoon.”

He rested his hand on her thigh, his thumb grazing over the thin material of her nightgown. “Sure, love.”

She focused on stroking Anthea’s smooth fur. Although she didn’t expect a negative reaction from him, she was worried she would lose some trust. Trust was such a touchy subject between them even months together. “The inspector, the one I told you about…he followed me to work.”

Alfie’s arm muscles flexed instinctually. “Fucking what?”

Ella moved closer to him and touched her forehead to his cheek. “He threatened to arrest you. I was so afraid…I called me brother.” She couldn’t pinpoint the exact emotion behind the long sigh he let out. Disappointment, betrayal, concern, anger?

But he brought her relief when he began to carefully remove the pins from her hair. Her curls unwound slowly around his fingers. The scent of rose oil filling the air. “Hair’s gotten so long.” He commented quietly.

Indeed, her hair had begun to grow past her shoulders. She chewed on her lip and closed her eyes. “You mad at me?” Her lips kissing against his neck.

“No, El, I’m not mad. I’m fucking mad at that copper.” He grumbled and tossed the hairpins onto the coffee table before combing his fingers through her hair.

“Tommy’ll take care of him. I won’t let him arrest you.”

Alfie wrinkled his nose. “Don’t want to hafta owe Tommy for keeping me outta handcuffs.” He mumbled.

“It’s my favor, not yours. And I don’t owe him anything.” She lifted her head and kissed his cheek affectionately. “He owes me more than he’ll able to pay off in his lifetime.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For what it was worth, Alfie wanted desperately to stay at Margate. There would come a time where he would come to rest eternally there. But he wouldn’t lie down until there was nothing left to do. And he had plenty to do.

Whispers were starting to become louder. Although they were whispers about the Shelbys, it was inevitably going to affect everyone within their grasp. More than ever, that included Alfie.

Rumors were just that, rumors. But Alfie learned it was wise to always keep an open ear when it came to rumors about Tommy. If they were false then there was no harm, no foul. But more often than not, listening to rumors brought him valuable information.

Ella and Alfie were quiet on their way back to London, returning with one more dog than they’d left with. Ella was at ease once she knew her brother would take care of their Scotland Yard issue. Alfie was uneasy by the phone call he’d had with Ollie the night before they left.

Something about Italians. Something about Americans.

A vendetta was the last thing he wanted to get involved with. The Shelbys had dug their own graves. Unfortunately, they’d also dug one for Ella.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Did anything happen at Tommy’s wedding?” Alfie asked halfway through the drive back to London.

“His wedding?” Ella frowned and thought about her brother’s wedding to her late sister-in-law. Grace’s funeral felt like a lifetime ago, the wedding felt even more distant. “Not that I can remember.” She shrugged. “I left early.”

“Does the name Angel or Vincente Changretta sound familiar?”

“Changretta…” Ella perked up. “That was our teacher’s name. She was lovely. Of course, my brothers were such a terror for her but she liked me. Always snuck me sweets because Ada and I were more behaved than they ever were. I believe her husband was named Vincente.” She tried to recall the long muddled memories of her childhood.

Alfie’s lips pursed and he grunted grimly. “Both of them ended up dead. The wife, your teacher disappeared I think.”

The hairs on Ella’s arm rose. “Dead…do they know who-” She blinked and grimaced. Italians had killed Grace. But Ella never knew they were working under the orders of the Changrettas. She hadn’t been around to find out about the feud with Angel that revolved around Tommy’s wedding. She’d been blissfully pining after the man in the driver’s seat beside her. “My brothers.”

He nodded. “One can only speculate.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Oh give me a break, of course, it was them. For fuck’s sake.” She scrubbed a hand over her face. It felt like all the relaxation from Margate was tossed out the car window in an instant. Mention of her brothers tended to do that. “Why are you bringing that up now?”

“Ollie called me last night, told me about some rumors that’ve been flying ‘round.” He explained. “Rumors ‘bout Angel’s brother.”

Ella shut her eyes and took a few deep breaths. “He wants revenge.”

“Well, s’all us folk know innit? They kill one of our men, I kill one of theirs. Then it cycles ‘bout ‘till we’re all fucking worm food.” He attempted to be light-hearted about it but she clearly wasn’t in the mood.

She peered over at him. “Should I be worried?”

Alfie gripped the steering wheel and kept his eyes steady on the road in front of them. “No, love.” His tone didn’t match the words of comfort. But Ella didn’t call him out. “You don’t hafta worry about anything.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Minnie liked to bake with cinnamon when the weather turned. The chill of fall swept through Camden and the sky grayed. The scent of the spice kept the kitchen warm and created feelings of joy instead of the gloominess of the impending winter.

“Elsie’s boy just started to walk,” Minnie called from the kitchen. “Took his first steps yesterday.”

“Is that right?” Ella smiled, as she kept warm by the fire. Cyril sprawled out on the floor, his body pressing up against her legs. Anthea was curled up in her lap.

“I bet she’s worrying. The moment Isaac learned to walk, he began wandering off everywhere. I remember once she asked Alfie if she could borrow one of Cyril’s leashes. She wanted to clip it to Isaac’s shirt so he couldn’t run off in public.” Minnie giggled at the memory and walked out of the kitchen. She brushed her hands off on the apron around her waist. “Just another ten minutes and they’ll be done.” She said and sat down beside her friend by the hearth.

“Do you think Alfie would ever want children?” Ella asked, shyly focusing on Anthea’s coat.

She smiled coyly. “Have you been thinking ‘bout children?”

“No, no, I mean…you brought it up.” She mumbled and rolled her eyes.

Minnie reached up to fix her hair scarf, adjusting several of the pins that had come loose while baking. “Alfie likes to show you off, doesn’t he? Dress you in the finest things, make sure people know you’re his, wants you to be seen on his arm?”

Ella blinked. “I uh, I hadn’t noticed.”

“I think you have.”

She smiled and shrugged. “I don’t know what that has to do with having children.”

Minnie stretched out her legs, wiggling her stocking-covered toes as they warmed by the fire. “Can’t you just picture him walking up and down Bonnie Street with a little bundle in his arms. Stopping everyone to introduce his son or daughter. He’ll explain the meaning of the name you’ve both chosen. Show everyone how they’ve got the same eyes as you.”

Ella bit her lip and ducked her head to conceal the chuffed smile. Of course, it sounded a dream. A tiny newborn all swaddled up in Alfie’s arms. She could almost see the look of pride on his face as he met his child for the very first time. “Don’t get too caught up in that idea, Minnie, it’ll be a long time before that happens. If it ever does.” Since she had such indifference for a relationship in her younger years, Ella hadn’t much considered a family. She had the odd dream where she would be expecting or mothering an unfamiliar baby. But she didn’t feel strongly one way or another. Being one of the youngest of the family, she had little experience raising children. She could just barely remember her baby cousins before they were taken from Polly. But she in no way thought she had that instinctual motherly quality that all her friend’s in Camden seemed to have. “I think Alfie would much prefer a family of dogs. They can’t talk back to him.”

Minnie smiled but wagged a finger at her. “I think you might be hiding how you truly feel. I also think you ought to discuss these things with Alfie. Best to be open instead of tiptoeing around such big decisions. You never know when you might miss your monthly.”

Ella’s eyes widened. “Don’t even say that!” She snapped as if her friend was cursing her with an immediate pregnancy. “We’re, y’know, erm-careful…”

They were not. Far too often Ella and Alfie got a little carried away with things and caution was tossed out the window. Since both of them had sporadic pasts of intimacy, and none that were exceptionally remarkable, they were a little frantic. Trying to wring out every ounce of lust for each other. But it appeared it was endless. And anything could trigger it.

A simple look, a comment, or a kiss that started out innocently enough. If both of them had enough energy, it often progressed into something more. Even at the most inopportune times. They were like teenagers who were completely magnetized. If Ollie had job security, he would mention how inappropriate the two were at the bakery. It was inevitable that one of these days, they’d forget to lock a door and he’d walk in on something he would never be able to unsee.

It didn’t seem to matter what circumstances they were under. Careful wasn’t a word they could use. Whether it was a lazy morning spent in bed, a hasty tryst against Alfie’s desk, or a playful romp in the kitchen, Alfie and Ella were both good at forgetting where they were. And forgetting the consequences.

“You can be as careful as a nun and it’ll still happen.” Minnie shrugged. “Although I’m not sure you’d fall under the immaculate conception criteria.”

Ella’s mouth popped open in shock but then the two women burst into giggles. “You’re the worst!” She smacked Minnie’s arm.

“I’m just saying!” She defended herself. “These things happen out of nowhere. Better to discuss it than be surprised.”

That made Ella groan with discomfort. Sitting Alfie down and talking about kids sounded like a crapshoot. It was anyone’s guess what his reaction would be. “I’ll think about it.”

“Better think about it quickly. Elsie talks, love. She says Ollie complains about you two going at it like rabbits in Alfie’s office.”

Her cheeks went bright red. “Don’t tell Alfie that, he’ll knock the religion out of Ollie. And besides, that’s our fucking business.”

Minnie snorted but just shook her head. Some people were very foolish in love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wonder if Santa’s gonna come tonight,” Alfie remarked on Christmas Eve as he got ready for bed.

Ella was already snug under the covers, doing everything she could to ward off the brutal chill in the air. “Santa?” She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t celebrate Christmas, Alfie.” In fact, the two had already celebrated Hanukah with friends and family. Or at least, their Camden family. The arrival of the holiday season had only pressed the knife further into Ella’s heart. The idea that she wouldn’t see her family at all. She’d missed birthdays and other special occasions but she couldn’t remember spending Christmas without them. Even when she was living on her own in London for a few years, she had Christmas with Ada and Karl.

Instead of brewing on it, Ella tried to immerse herself in the festivities with Alfie and her friends. Trying to adopt new customs instead of hanging on the old ways that would never again be a reality.

Alfie and Ella had already exchanged gifts. And he’d gone a little overboard as far as she was concerned. But at the end of the last night, they were curled up in bed happy as clams to be together. That was the best gift.

“Nah, but you do.” Alfie shrugged and walked over to the dresser. “And he’s s’posed to come if you celebrate. That right?”

Ella smiled and shook her head. “You’re being silly, I hope you haven’t bought me anything else.” She said in a warning tone.

“I didn’t buy you anything, love.” He gave her a sly glance over his shoulder. “M’just saying. Santa might’ve.”

“That’s not fair, I didn’t buy you anything!” She protested.

He picked up an envelope off the dresser and wandered over to the bed. “I don’t celebrate Christmas, Santa ain’t gonna bring me anything.” He grinned and passed the envelope to her. “I forgot, this came for you this morning.”

Ella took it from him. “I’ve already received cards from everyone I think. Ada, John, Arthur…Tommy too.” She tore open the envelope without reading the return address.

Inside was a card wishing her happy holidays, accompanied by a black hand. Ella frowned. “I don’t know what this is.” She held it out to Alfie to see if he could decipher the odd message.

He grabbed his glasses off the nightstand but realized he didn’t need them. The black print was big enough to see clear as day. “Fuck.” He grimaced and tossed the card to the side. “Fucking hell. Should’ve realized.” In a frenzy, he threw open the bedroom door and went out into the hall to get the phone.

“What is it?” His reaction obviously alarmed her. “Alfie?” She jumped out of bed and pulled on a dressing gown.

“Warwickshire.” Alfie barked into the receiver, giving the operator Tommy’s address.

That was enough to send Ella into a panic. Why on Earth was he calling her brother? “Alfie, hang up!” She commanded.

Instead of responding, he waited until Tommy picked up on the other end. Then, he unleashed his tirade. “Why’s there a fucking black hand in me fucking house, Tommy? Aye?!” He shouted into the telephone but listened for Tommy’s response. “S’got your sister’s fucking name on it, that’s who it’s addressed to. Yeah he’s fucking signed his name. Who else on this bloody Earth would send a black hand? You and your fucking brothers have gotten yourself into this mess but now you’ve fucking dragged Ella into it. So now, you’ve got an issue with me, mate!”

Ella’s stomach churned. Black hand. An omen. Had to be. She returned to the bedroom and found the card on the floor. Cyril and Anthea came over to her as she knelt down to pick it up. She opened the card again and read the signature.

Luca Changretta.

There was officially a hit on her head.

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