Baker's Gonna Bake

Chapter 38

Alfie halted on the spot and the guard behind him stumbled into the wide span of his back knocking him forwards, his adrenaline pumping in his ears.

What the fuck was that traitorous prick doing here?

His eyes met Limberts across the crowded room as he was shoved and cursed at by the guard to move forward. He didn't though, he didn't budge, he stood frozen to the spot, his arms still encased in the cold metal hand restraints and chain and his eyes like black death staring straight into the face of the man who had caused his downfall. A blanket of white hot rage fell down over his eyes, combined with a great surge of hatred that flooded his very veins, overwhelming his senses.

"I ain't fucking seeing that cunt" Alfie said defiantly and very loudly, ensuring he could be heard in every corner of the room. John narrowed his eyes.

"If I sit anywhere near that fat old bastard, I swear I'm gonna cut him from his balls right round to his back!!" He continued, as all heads in the confined space turned to face them at the echoing sound of commotion.
He saw John smirking in retaliation to his threat and he saw red. A square of taunting waving material. A red flag to a bull.

He dragged the chain from the hand of the authority holding it before he realised his motive and ran forward with all the speed he could muster, his hands still cuffed in front of him. When he reached his destination he flung himself sideways over the top of the desk at the man behind it, ensuring he used his body as a force field, hitting him full throttle in the shoulder and knocking him out of his seat.

On the ground he jumped on top of him, he was red faced, sweating profusely and the sounds of his breathing were exaggerated and laboured, but he then used the only body part he had free whilst the guards acted quickly and began to pull at his legs and arms. He repeatedly bashed his own head into the man's face and by the time he had finished, Limbert was a blood bath sprawled on the floor whilst Alfie had it smeared allover his face, spitting it from his own mouth.

John made an almighty fuss when Alfie was finally dragged off of him.
"Do something, do SOME thing, cage that fucking animal .. this is assault. Bare knuckle assault." He shouted to nobody in particular. Nobody gave a fuck either on account of Alfie turning his white hot rage onto each and every one of them. He began to swing the chain in all directions, his eyes wild and his bottom lip shaking with tremendous energy. Energy he forgot he had in him. His beard was matted with the blood of his enemy and everyone sensibly backed away from his onslaught.

"Fackin c'mon then!! Cage me! I am an animal! And any of you cunts come near me il swing this metal off the back of yer noggins!... GET ME MY BARRISTER..... GET HIM NAWWWWWW!" Alfie screamed.

Seeing Limbert was the catalyst he needed to revive his old self, for he was Alfie fucking Solomons, relentless and brutal gangster baker of Camden. He was nobody's fucking bitch.

As the guards scrambled for back up, and the place began to lock down, sirens sounding and the flash of a red warning light, Alfie turned his attention back to Limbert, shell shocked and pathetic in front of him.
The panic across his face at Alfie's violence was apparent, the fact that he was uncontrollable even in a setting as such, and unstable enough to probably take his head off in front of everyone, made him turn on his heel and make a break for the door.

Alfie laughed a maddening laugh after him "OH I'LL SEE YOU SOON MATE!!!" Alfie shouted towards the exit he was scrambling for. Very fucking soon when he cut his throat like a lamb for shechita sacrifice, he thought to himself as he was eventually dragged by a team of guards, chained and muzzled to the confines of a lockdown cell.

*
Cora was playing classical music in the bedroom she had the privileged pleasure of growing up in.
She wouldn't normally listen to Mozart but it seemed to be calming her, whereas her usual country music seemed to make her solemn now. She could only remember Alfie pretending he hated the stuff, tutting when she would play it quietly in the office, and then noticing him tapping his foot to its beat within ten minutes.
Would she ever find joy in anything she used to do again?
She popped a lemon sherbet sweet into her mouth and decided that was a no, not yet anyway, because instead of lemon and sherbet all she could taste was sickening bile. She just wanted to be back in his bedchamber. Back in his arms.