Sinbound

(23) The Uncle

The shouting only got louder as the two stood outside, Amari's hand was on Alex's stomach, stopping her from going inside.

"Don't make a scene," Amari says, standing in front of Alex.

"I'm not going to make a scene, I'm going to talk to them," Alex responds.

"Yes you see your mouth is saying that, but the way your fist is clenching indicates otherwise," Amari states.

"One clean hit and put them out in the alleyway, ten seconds maximum," Alex says.

"Lex, no," Amari states.

"Why not? Why do you let people get away with this, Mar? I don't get it," Alex replies.

"Perhaps you don't need to get it, and you just need to listen to me when I say that I don't want you to do anything that could mean you end up behind bars," Amari responds.

"And if I promise not to hit them?" Alex asks, "I can get them out of there just as effectively by talking to them."

The sound of glass breaking made Amari's facade fall, and she rushed into the house, Alex right behind her.

"This is a family thing, please wait in the living room, I promise if I need you to handle something, I will let you know, but let me try and handle this first," Amari says to Alex.

"Okay," Alex says, "but if I hear something smash, I'm coming in there whether you want me there or not."

Amari nods, only now realising she'd taken ahold of Alex's hand. She glances down at their entwined fingers, it just felt right but she knew she had to let go. So she did, and walked into the kitchen, where Danté was crying, hiding behind their father, smashed glass by their feet, their uncle opposite them.

"Look who's back," her uncle sneers at her.

Amari stands tall, glaring back at them, "get out."

"And what if we don't want to?" her aunt cackles.

"You've heard of the Shelby's? Alex Shelby? Quite notorious in Birmingham," Amari replies.

"Of course we have, she's like you, an abomination, a faggot," her uncle states.

"But you've heard her stories?" Immanuel asks, and they nod.

"Good," Amari says, "so you better fucking listen to me, if you're not out of this house in the next ten seconds, I call for Alex. She is stood in our lounge. You say another word, you make a movement that isn't in the direction of the front door, and she'll be in here; and trust me, you do not want her to be in here."

"Are you threatening us?"

"You've spent so long threatening us, I think it's time the tables turn," Immanuel says, placing an arm in front of his daughter as his brother in law takes a step forwards.

"That was another word, and a movement not in the direction of the door," Danté says.

"You're all bluffing," her aunt scoffs.

"Alex!" Amari shouts, watching her uncles hand go towards the kitchen knife, venturing closer to her father.

Immanuel continues to shield his children, closing his eyes ready for the blade to pierce his skin, when he hears a thud. He opens his eyes slowly, looking down to see the knife by his feet with the shattered glass.

Sammy had come back downstairs, and was stood in the doorway momentarily before rushing to her father.

Alex had their uncle pinned down against their kitchen counter, his arm twisted behind his back, seemingly speaking quietly to him as he whimpered and shook his head.

Their aunt was mortified, screeching and clawing at Alex to stop, but it didn't work, Alex didn't falter.

"Don't touch her," Amari says, pushing her aunt away, back towards the knife block, her eyes widening in fear as her aunt removes one in the same manner her uncle had.

There was a clicking sound, and then all eyes were on Alex, one arm holding their uncle down, the other outstretched, gun in hand, blood dripping from her wrist from where she'd intercepted the stabbing of Immanuel.

"Don't take another fucking step," Alex says, kicking their uncle in the back of the legs and hauling him up straight, "drop the knife, Amari, get back over here."

The knife clutters to the floor, and Alex lowers her gun, keeping their uncles arm behind his back as she walks him towards the door, gesturing for their aunt to leave first.

They went into the hallway, and Amari could hear some hushed talking before the door closed.

"Sorry about that," Alex apologises as she walks into the room, "are you okay?"

Danté rushes over to her, "are you okay? You saved Dad."

"You're bleeding, Lex," Amari states.

"Let's get you two to bed," Immanuel says to the younger children; taking their hands and guiding them up the stairs.

"Good night, Alex," they shout.

"Night," Alex responds, as Amari rolls up Alex's wet and bloodied sleeve, looking at the deep gash on her wrist.

"What's wrong?" Alex asks, lifting her hand to Amari's chin, tilting her head upwards.

"It's been less than twenty minutes since I said I didn't want you being hurt because of me," Amari whispers.

"This isn't because of you," Alex states, "this is not your fault, Mar, you didn't go beserk and pull out a knife."

"Yes, but you wouldn't have come into the room if I didn't ask you too," Amari says, and Alex shakes her head, "I was out that room the moment they called you that word, I was in the kitchen before you even said my name."

"You promised me that you wouldn't leave," Amari replies.

"Are you going to hold it against me?" Alex questions, her hand still resting on Amari's jaw, her thumb gently caressing her cheek.

"No, who knows what could have happened if you weren't here, I know I said it was none of your business, that it was a family thing, but I am more than thankful that you didn't listen to me," Amari responds, "now let's clean that wrist."

Amari leads Alex to a chair, the woman sitting down, watching as Amari moves carefully around the kitchen, gathering a bottle of vodka, a cloth, and a bandage from a drawer.

Immanuel comes back down the stairs, grabbing a dustpan and brush to sweep up the glass.

"It's going to hurt," Amari warns, dousing the cloth in vodka.

"You underestimate the amount of times I've had this done," Alex says, as Amari sits beside her, her arm laid out on the table, another cut to add to the other self inflicted ones, that she was well aware were on display. But Amari didn't mention them.

She softly dabs at the wound, cleaning the blood away, her touch was gentle and calming, she was holding Alex's hand as she cleansed the gash.

"How bad is it?" Immanuel inquires.

He felt guilty, and unsafe. He couldn't even protect his kids in their own home. They had to rely on a peaky blinder out of everyone to rescue them, but Alex wouldn't be here all the time. Who's to say they wouldn't come back? That was unsettling.

They couldn't stay here. He wouldn't bring his children up in a house where they felt unsafe, or where this could have even happened, where he could've been stabbed in his own house, infront of all of his children.

"Not the worst," Alex says, as Amari wraps a bandage around her wrist.

"It's raining outside, will you be safe getting home or do you want to stay here the night?" Amari offers.

"Amari..."

"On the sofa, Dad," Amari responds, flushing a bright red as Alex smirks at her, "I'll be fine getting home, thank you though."