CHAPTER ELEVEN — hand grenade

' I got into a small bar fight. '

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Charlotte lands a rough punch on drunk Dave's face, causing his nose to snap out of place and a loud cry to erupt from his lungs. She repeats the same act over and over again, smashing her knuckles into his both of his cheeks while he lays on the Garrison's wooden floors crying.

"Keep your fucking filthy hands off me!" She yells loudly, practically shaking the building.

There is plenty of men around, who have enough strength to remove Charlotte from the fight, but they don't have the courage. While Dave bleeds on the Garrison's polished floors, they all watch with wide eyes and sealed mouths. Their arms are crossed behind their backs, as an extra precaution to make sure they don't touch Charlotte.

"CHARLOTTE WILLIAMS!" A voice roars from the doorway, and she rolls her jaw, slowly standing up with her bloody fists hanging by her sides.

She watches as Arthur and John Shelby make their way over to her, with soft smirks on their faces. Her chest pumps up and down and her jaw stays clenched while Dave sobs on the ground to the side of her.

"Family meeting," Arthur motions towards the side room, "John here has something to tell us all."

John gawks at her, nodding gently, "Fuckin' hell, Charlie. What did he do?"

"Laid his filthy hands on me as if he has the right," She grumbles, shoving her way past the two men and towards the Shelby room in the far corner.

Still breathing heavily, she slouches down into a seat, running her bloody hands through her hair. The pain in her knuckles finally hits her system, and she grimaces, squeezing her eyes shut and flexing her fist.

Arthur sits beside her, staring down at her hands, "Pretty bad, eh? You're lucky we own this pub now. You'll have to let Polly wrap them up for ya."

Charlotte hums in agreement, and just at the right time, Thomas and Polly enter the room with smirks spreading across their cheeks.

"Alright, John," Thomas leans against the wall behind his younger brother, "There is only one man guarding the house. So, what's troubling ya?"

John purses his lips, "Polly, you know what it's been like since Martha died. The truth is, my kids have been running bloody rings around me." His face screws up, "Running barefoot with the dogs until all hours."

Thomas sighs, "Pol, give him ten bob, some shoes. Is that it, John?"

"Tommy, we'd be better doing this without you," Polly scowls.

Shaking his head, Thomas calms slightly, sneaking a glance over at Charlotte, who's staring down at her lap in silence and he notices Arthur every now and again doing the same.

"Now," Polly leans forward, "What's your point?"

"What the kids need is a mother," He nods, "So, that's why I'm getting married."

Charlotte's eyes go wide and she shares a shocked expression with Polly, who stumbles slightly with her words, "Does this poor girl know you're going to marry her or are you just going to spring it on her all of a sudden?"

"I've already proposed and she said yes." He states, fiddling with the rim of his hat.

"I think there's a shell about to land and go bang," Thomas grumbles, lighting himself a cigarette.

Charlotte glares at him for a moment, before waving her hand eagerly at John for him to continue and reveal the mystery woman.

"It's, er. . . It's Lizzie Stark." He bites his lip.

The four older adults in the room, share a chuckle and Charlotte bites her cheeks to stop herself from cackling. Thomas notices her hard attempt and laughs more at that, and despite her current feelings towards him, she stills fails miserably on staying somewhat quiet, and throws her head back, cackling.

"John," Polly scoffs, "Lizzie Stark is a strong woman and I am sure she provides a fine service for her customers, but—"

"I won't hear that word!" John cuts in, "Understand? Do not use that word."

"What word is that, John?" Thomas tilts his head.

John stares down at his lap, "You know what word that is."

"Everybody bloody knows," Arthur smirks.

"Everybody can go to hell." John snaps in reply.

"Whore? That word? Or. . . prostitute. How bout that one?" Thomas lists, smiling smugly.

"Right," John taps his finger against the table roughly, "I want it known. . . if anyone calls her a whore again, I will push the barrel of my revolver down their throats and blow the word back into their hearts."

"Men and their egos," Charlotte rolls her eyes, "John, it's Lizzie Stark, for fucks sake. I mean, barely a month ago you and I were drunk in the Garrison together laughing at her."

Polly hums, "She's never done a days work vertical."

"She's changed!" John argues, his head snapping between the two ladies in the room, "Alright? People change." He slams the table, standing up from his chair, "Like with religion!"

"Oh, Lizzie Stark has got religion, eh?" Thomas cocks his eyebrow at Charlotte, causing her to smirk and shake her head.

"No, no. She doesn't have religion," He stumbles, "But— Well, she loves me." He turns to his older brother, "Tommy, I won't do it without your blessing. But of all people in the world, I want you to see it. . . as brave."

"It's definitely brave," Charlotte mumbles.

"It's brave, alright." Arthur nods, speaking at the same time as the girl beside him.

John whirls around, pointing harsh fingers at the two of them, "Shut up, the both of ya!" He rolls his jaw, facing Thomas once more, "Listen, Tommy, welcome her to the family. As someone who's had a hard life. Alright? Because, I need someone. Alright? The kids need someone."

Before Thomas has a chance to reply to his younger brother, the door to the small room is thrown open and a boy is revealed, his eyes wide with urgency.

"Mr Shelby, we've been done over!" He shouts.

In an instant, the three brothers and Charlotte are running through the streets of Birmingham back to their home, while Polly saunters quickly after them. Thomas enters first, followed by his siblings and Charlotte is next, her mouth dropping open at her sight of the bidding room.

It's a complete mess. Chairs and tables are completely snapped, and paper documents are thrown all over the place. But most importantly, the money's gone.

Thomas turns to Charlotte, stopping her from entering into the home any further, "Charlie, go find Finn. Make sure he's okay."

She rolls her jaw, glaring up at him before eventually nodding and exiting the Shelby's household before venturing once more through the streets of Birmingham. After half an hour of searching, Charlotte manages to find the youngest Shelby at the yard next to the family's car.

She smiles gently, thankful he wasn't involved in whatever brawl happened at the house, "Hey, Finn," She makes her way over.

"Charlie!" He squeals happily, running over to her and wrapping his small arms around her lower body. He pushes away after a few moments, placing his hands together to create an imaginary gun, "Look, I'm Tommy!" He laughs, pretending to fire the gun by jolting his hand back and imitating a loud bang with his mouth.

She gasps, slowly raising a hand to her chest with a smirk on her cheek, "You shot me, Finn," She shakes her head, beginning to run towards him and he screams, starting to run laps around the car while she chases, "It's time for my revenge!"

"No!" He giggles, quickly jumping over the door of the car and into the driver's seat.

Charlotte rolls her eyes, jumping over it after him, thinking it will ruin his imagination if she just simply pulled the door open. His mouth opens wide and he tries to slap her hands away as she reaches forward to tickle him and loud laughs erupt from his lungs.

"Finn?" Thomas rounds the corner quickly, his face dropping further when his eyes land on the blonde next to him, "Charlie. Both of you, stay exactly where you are."

"I was pretending I was you, and Charlotte started chasing me," Finn giggles gently.

Thomas starts to slowly make his way over, his hand out in front of him warily. Charlotte's eyebrows furrow at his behaviour, causing her head to tilt and his attention is drawn to her.

"Charlotte," He swallows thickly, "Which door did you open to get in?" He questions quickly, and if it's extremely important for him to know.

"Neither of us used the doors," She replies, "We both climbed in."

Thomas starts to make his way around to Charlotte's side of the car, his eyes wide, "I want you both to climb out exactly the same way you climbed in, okay?"

Slowly, Charlie nods, beginning to stand up so she can climb, but Finn takes that as an attempt to continue the game, so he throws open the door at his side and jumps out happily. Horror falls onto Tommy's face as he jumps forward.

"No, no, Finn!" He shouts, reaching between Charlotte legs frantically and grabbing the hand grenade before sprinting away from the car and throwing it towards a pile of slate, "CLEAR!"

Men shout as they attempt to hurry away in time and Charlotte throws open her car door, letting Tommy wrap his arm around her waist and pull her away from the explosion as it rattles the ground beneath them.

Thomas drops his brother, turning his full attention towards Charlotte, his hands cupping her cheeks while his terrified eyes flick over her shaking body. He sighs in relief, leaning forward slightly and resting his forehead on hers.

"I'm sorry, Charlie. I'm so fucking sorry," He breathes, letting his eyelids fall closed.

She squeezes her eyes shut, "I know, Tom."

He opens his eyes slowly, and his gaze drops to her hands, focussing on her bloody stained knuckles. His face drops further and pulls away slightly, cupping her hands in his, "What's this from?"

"I got into a small bar fight," She shrugs, smirking, "No need to worry."

"Oh, I wasn't worrying," He smirks, "Because, by the looks of it, ya won." He rubs the back of her hand with his thumb before turning to his side and he kneels down, coming face to face with Finn, "That's why you should never pretend to be me. Okay? Okay?"

Finn nods, turning to Charlotte and wrapping his arms around her body once more and she sighs heavily, stroking the back of his head with her thumb gently while he sobs into her dress. Thomas stands over Finn, raising his hand and pushing the hair out of Charlotte's eyes with a small smile.

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word count: 1803

another shorty