John sat alone in the private room of the Garrison, nursing an early morning drink. He'd escaped the madhouse he called a home half an hour ago as Esme demanded where he was going. It was fortunate she was pretty and could handle his house and children, but business information didn't belong in her brain. He'd been sitting alone with a bottle of whiskey, courtesy of Grace, when the door opened, revealing Arthur. His older brother shook the unseasonally cool September weather off him and looked John over.

"What?" John demanded, lowering his glass.

"There's something going on in town. We have to investigate," Arthur said, leaning against the doorframe.

"Is this Tommy's orders?" John was still angry that his own brother would turn in Freddie Thorne.

Arthur scoffed at his younger brother. This had nothing to do with Tommy. Not that anyone was speaking to him except for business dealings. No one except Mazella. She was the only one who'd talk to their brother. Then he'd heard about the row between Polly and Mazella. It surprised him that his aunt would pull a gun on the younger woman, but he figured Mazie brought it on herself.

"Nah. Heard a rumor that someone is setting up shop nearby." Arthur clarified a little more.

John shrugged his shoulders and finished his glass of whiskey before rising from the bench. He stumbled around the wooden table to follow Arthur out of the Garrison. He could hear the disdain Arthur had for Tommy and couldn't blame him. Everyone knew Tommy had been after Freddie Thorne for months, and when Ada was having her baby, Tommy took the opportunity to have the coppers arrest Freddie.

Arthur led his younger brother to the building he learned was using for some kind of sport. He shivered in his overcoat, cursing the drastic change in the weather. A week ago it had been hot and two days before, a light snow fell, barely covering the ground, but winter was well on its way. John could hear the raucous cheering before he touched the door. Arthur jerked the door open, a chilly breeze pushing inside the building as John followed his older brother.

"I don't know why Mazie won't tell Polly," John said, using their nickname for Mazella. He shoved his icy hands in the pockets of his overcoat, hoping to warm them. He wrinkled his nose at the stench of unwashed bodies and cigarette smoke.

"Polly accused her of doing whatever Tommy wants," Arthur said, shoving his hands in his grey overcoat. "She could be beaten half to death and she wouldn't breathe a word."

"He's off his rails if he turned in his best mate," John growled, shaking off the cold as they entered the building. It wasn't much warmer, but better inside than in.

"Tommy's a snitch behind the curtains," Arthur spat, looking around the boxing room.

"If you think that," John said, looking at his brother, "then you're the only one."

Arthur spotted Johnny Dogs leaning against a beam, watching the fight in front of him. "Who's running this carny?"

"Name is Marsden. Intends on wintering it in Small Heath," Johnny supplied, turning to look at the fight before turning his attention back to Arthur.

Arthur made a humming noise under his breath as John swore quietly. They didn't need this in Small Heath. Of course, there was always a profit to be made. Their animosity toward their brother didn't stop them from forcing people to adhere to paying the Peaky Blinders.

"It's what I heard," Johnny called out as the two men walked off from him with a nod of appreciation.

Arthur led John through the throng of men, who were cheering loudly for the two men in the boxing ring. Arthur felt his wolf drawn toward the fighting, and he wanted to strip off his overcoat and jacket and join in. He cast a glance at John, whose eyes shifted amber before turning to light blue. They walked around the boxing ring to find a rotund, short man in a bowler hat standing and watching the match.

"Mr. Marsden, I believe?" Arthur called out, catching the man's attention.

"Aye, that's me," Marsden replied, watching Arthur circle around him like a vulture.

"Well, these here are civilised parts around here and a man wants to set his stall up with men lampin' each other; he needs himself a license," Arthur informed Mr. Marsden as he picked up a drink and took a sip. He winced at the taste of cheap whiskey.

"A license?" Marsden replied, looking shocked. No one told him about a license needed in Small Heath for a boxing ring.

"For a fee," Arthur replied, making a face at the alcohol in the glass before pouring it out. "From those in charge."

"You know what?" Marsden replied angrily. He wasn't about to let some uppity fuck tell him how to make a profit. "I keep my money and you shove your license up your arse crack, eh?"

Arthur stepped forward, intent on intimidating the man before him. "You don't want to speak to me like that," he threatened lightly.

"And who in the bloody hell do you think you are?" Marsden spat.

"My name is…" Arthur turned to hear a voice he hadn't heard in ten years. "Arthur Shelby!"

Arthur and John turned sharply, hearing the voice of their absentee father. John glanced at Arthur quickly, seeing the shock written on his older brother's face.

"Dad?" Arthur said quietly over the roar of the crowd, catching the man's attention.

Arthur Shelby Sr. finished his drink and turned around to see two of his children standing there. No one spoke for a second as they warily looked at each other. Arthur Sr. gave Arthur and John a reassuring smile.

"Jesus," Arthur Shelby Sr. said, surprise written on his sweaty face. It surprised him he ran into them so soon. Of course, Arthur Sr. knew if something was going on in Small Heath, he would eventually run into his children. It was better this way than to show up on their doorstep.

Arthur Jr. stood there, savoring in the fact that his father wasn't dead, but seemed happy to see them. It would be rude to not invite his father to lunch at the Shelby house, where Arthur Sr. could see all his children and Polly.

"Wh—what at are you doing here?" John spoke up, clearly surprised.

"Just in town for a few days," Arthur Sr. replied vaguely, crossing the last few steps to clap John, then Arthur on the shoulder.

"Do you want to come for lunch tomorrow?" Arthur said suddenly, knowing it wouldn't go over well.

"I'd like that," Arthur Sr. replied. "I'll see you tomorrow around lunch."

The air was chilly as Maze and Thomas drove toward the Shelby house. They had cut their day shot when Thomas received a missive that there was an impromptu family meeting around lunch and Thomas needed to be there. It annoyed him and Maze, but Thomas was curious about the meeting.

Maze curled up as close as she properly could without drawing suspicion from anyone who might watch them. She wiggled her fingers in the thick woolen gloves, hoping to warm as they drove. It was one thing she hated most about vintage cars. No proper windows and no heating unit.

"Anyone talking to you yet?" Maze asked, adjusting in her seat and turning to look at Thomas as they drove toward the Shelby house.

"Not yet," Thomas replied, casting a glance at his mate. "Have you and Polly apologized?"

Maze blew a sharp air from her lips. She didn't voice the reason behind the row between her and Polly. It would do no good to rehash the argument. "No. I want to, but she's still being unreasonable."

Thomas snorted lightly at her words. Polly being unreasonable. He turned the car down Watery Lane and saw a car parked outside the Shelby house. Arthur told him to be there around lunchtime for a family meeting. He took care to note that it wasn't a car that he knew. It put him on edge as they drove closer.

He and Maze spent a few hours that morning outside the city where no one knew their faces. It proved to be difficult keeping their relationship a secret. It grated on his nerves they couldn't openly express themselves, but Thomas kept reminding himself of why they couldn't.

He parked the car and turned it off before opening the door and stepping out. Thomas shivered slightly from the cold. The sun peeked through the overcast, giving Small Heath a bit of late sunlight. It wouldn't warm anyone, but it shined nicely.

"Are you coming with me?" he asked, waiting for her on her side of the car.

Maze raised a questionable eyebrow, "Are you sure? It's a family meeting…"

He gave her a half smile, opening the door for her. "I'm sure, Maze."

Maze peered at him for a moment. Until recently, Thomas had never invited her to a family meeting. While she wasn't a proper family member, she was Thomas's mate. Nodding her head hesitantly, she stepped out of the car before closing the door quietly. Following Thomas to the rear door that lead through the kitchen, she stayed closed to him and hoped no one spoke out of turn with her arrival.

Thomas stepped to the kitchen door and removed his hat before stuffing it in his overcoat pocket. He could feel the heat from the inside filtering through the door. Maze removed her gloves and hat, waiting on him to push it open and let them inside. He stopped short, inhaling slightly as a scent he hadn't smelled in a decade overcame his senses. Thomas felt Maze tap him gently on the shoulder. He quickly reached around, grabbing her wrist in warning. He ignored the jerk of her arm and the glare she gave him.

Thomas placed his hand on the closed door and listened carefully.

"Jesus Christ," he heard Polly say.

"Let me be," the male said sarcastically. "I'm here for lunch at the request of the head of the family."

Polly scoffed quietly to herself, but remained silent.

"The head of the family ain't here," John's voice broke the silence.

Silence descended on the room as Thomas listened intently. He felt a tug on his jacket and ignored his mate's unasked question. He knew she couldn't hear the conversation.

"Tommy," Arthur's voice drifted over the silence, "he, uh, sometimes helps me with business."

The wolf growled low in his head, hearing his absentee father's voice after a decade. He flinched, hearing Arthur blatantly lie to everyone in the room. Thomas felt a rush of anger boil in his stomach at Arthur's blatant lying. Twisting the handle loudly, he opened the door.

"Speak of the devil," Thomas heard as he slammed it loudly.

The warmth of the kitchen permeated his cold overcoat, instantly warming him. Thomas discreetly turned to Maze, holding up a hand to let her know not to follow him just yet. She frowned at him, but nodded.

He walked through the door, entering the small kitchen and into the dining room where the family sat. Sitting at the table was his father. A low growl slipped from his lips seeing the man who abandoned the family ten years prior. Thomas didn't care for his father's sudden appearance, and Arthur Sr. needed to leave.

"Hello son," Arthur Sr. said, rising from his chair.

"Get out."

"Is that any way to talk to your father?" Arthur Sr. inquired, sitting back down in the chair, his posture proud.

"That man left ten years ago," Thomas reminded his father. "When we needed you the most… Now get out."

"Tommy…" Arthur spoke up softly, his eyes never leaving the table.

"I'm a changed man," Arthur Sr. said, giving his son an oily smile.

Maze waited as instructed, but the longer she waited, the more impatient she was becoming. Something didn't feel right when Thomas walked away from her. She crept closer inside the kitchen and pressed her back against the wall to listen.

She heard a voice she didn't recognize, and it worried her. Twisting her hands together, she leaned her head back against the wall and shivered as warmth filtered around the kitchen. Whoever the person was made Thomas leery that he kept her from entering the dining room.

"Arthur tells me you help him with business?" Arthur Sr. asked, casting a glance at his eldest before turning back to Thomas.

"Is that what he says?" Thomas asked, glaring at Arthur for a second before turning back to their father.

Arthur grumbled, but said nothing in his own defense.

Thomas heard a slight movement in the kitchen and sighed, remembering that Maze was waiting for him. The sudden appearance of his father momentarily distracted him. He sighed heavily, closing his eyes instantly before opening them to his inquiring family. "Come out Maze."

All heads snapped toward the kitchen as Maze cautiously stepped into the dining room. Thomas felt her small fingers clutch the back of his overcoat. She didn't hide herself behind Thomas, but he stepped partially in front of her, blocking her from his father's inquiring eyes.

"Well, look there," Arthur Sr. said, grinning. "Mazella Hawthorne."

"Don't," Thomas warned quietly, his tone cold. "Don't speak to her."

"I've known her since she was a wee lass playing with our Ada," Arthur Sr. grumbled. "I'm just saying hello to her."

Thomas shifted his head slightly toward her, catching her attention from his peripheral. She took it as permission to speak to his father. It unnerved her that Thomas would forbid his father from speaking to her. Maze understood why Thomas was acting the way he was, but she didn't see the need to prevent her from saying hello.

"Hello, Mr. Shelby," she replied amiably.

"See!" Arthur Sr. said, with a smile directed at Thomas. "That wasn't so hard."

Thomas kept his face passive, but he wanted to scowl at his father for his cheerful attitude and victory over his son. He turned slightly around to look at Maze. "Wait for me in the car." He wanted to touch her skin, giving her some kind of reassurance, but it would seem suspicious to everyone watching them.

Maze nodded warily and gave a slight wave to everyone in the room, as if apologizing, before she walked out of the house.

Thomas watched her leave and said nothing until the door closed behind her. He ignored the looks his family was giving him at the turn of events. Turning his head to his father, he scowled deeply.

"She's grown quite pretty," Arthur Sr. said, motioning toward Maze when she disappeared from the room as everyone sucked in air sharply.

"She's none of your concern," Thomas snapped, growing agitated by his father's presence.

Arthur Sr. chuckled and reached for the sandwich on the plate in front of him. "Still protecting her, I see. What will you do when she marries Tommy, hmm?"

"Still none of your concern," Thomas reiterated.

"Tommy…" Polly spoke to him, catching his attention. She gave a slight shake of her head, hoping to keep the men from arguing.

"I don't know why you're here, but get out of this house," Thomas ordered roughly.

"Tommy, he's different," Arthur Jr. said quietly.

"Shut up," Thomas snapped.

"That's all right, son," Arthur Sr. said to his eldest son. "Arthur Shelby doesn't stay where he isn't welcomed." Arthur Sr. turned to look at Polly pointedly before grabbing his coat and walking out of the house. Thomas's eyes never strayed from his father as he watched the man leave the house, closing the door behind him.

The family stood there quietly, reflecting on the last half hour. No one wanted to speak to Thomas, but he knew they were of the same mind he was concerning Arthur Sr. All except his older brother.

"He's our dad," Arthur said, breaking the silence.

Thomas scoffed loudly, his eyes fixed on the chair where his father had been sitting. "He's a selfish bastard, that's what he is."

"You calling someone a selfish bastard, Tommy?" Arthur whispered. "Thanks to you, we're down a bloody sister."

Thomas' head snapped to look at Arthur. Anger boiled in his stomach hearing those vitriolic words coming from his older brother's mouth. He completely understood why his family despised him at the moment, but they didn't need to be arseholes about it.

"You want to see him?" Thomas seethed, his eyes flashing. He pointed in the direction of the door. "You go with him."

Arthur squirmed in his chair, anger clouding his judgement before he stood to face Thomas. Thomas stood motionless as Arthur growled at him before storming out of the dining room.

Thomas had tossed her dress over his desk before nudging her back against the cold wall. He ignored the sharp yelp as her back touched the cold stone. He couldn't stop the possessiveness that overcame him seeing his father eye her earlier. Thomas hands slid down her luscious body before sliding one between her opened thighs to caress her cunt through her wet knickers.

Quiet moans drifted in Thomas' ear as he kissed slowly down Maze's bare throat. His hand drifted down her bare leg, his fingers tracing over the garters before sliding further into the flimsy silk slip she wore to scour his short nails over her bare arse. Maze let a throaty moan, feeling his short nails across her arse.

Her fingers worked the waistcoat's buttons before helping to shove it off his shoulders, the fabric falling to the floor with a soft plop. Quickly, she began unfastening the buttons on his white button-up shirt. He wrapped her stocking clad leg around his waist, his fingers teasing the garter belt that kept her stockings up. Shoving his shirt off his shoulders, they didn't hear it plop onto the ground. Maze ran her hands down his back, savoring the taut muscles before pulling him in for a deep kiss.

Thomas moaned quietly against her lips as he angled his hips into the juncture of her thighs, urging her to roll her hips into his. When she did, his breath stuttered, his teeth nipped the soft skin of her throat. Her body trembled, feeling his teeth nip at her. She exposed her neck to him, hearing him growl in approval. Thomas forced himself to break away from her neck and kissed down her exposed chest, his lips leaving heated shocks on her warm skin. He felt her nails scratch gently on the back of his neck as she brought his head back to hers and claimed his lips.

Maze moaned against his lips, her thighs trembling as Thomas teased her clit with his thumb. Her nails scratched gently on the back of his neck, earning a low growl from him. How had he gotten his hand between her thighs; she didn't know. She moaned, feeling two of his fingers lose altitude and tease her soaked entrance.

Her hands slid down his bare chest until she reached the waistline of his opened trousers. Maze's hands itched to reach in and wrap her hand around his cock.

"Do it," he mumbled against her lips, nipping at the lower lip. "Grab my cock, Maze."

Her body ignited at his words before slowly slipping her hand into his opened trousers when the door to his office opened, the glass rattling in its frame. Quicker than he thought, he released Maze, and she spun away to hide her face. Thomas snapped his head toward their intruder and saw his father standing there.

"What are you doing here?" Thomas demanded, hearing Maze inhale sharply. She still had her body twisted away from exposure. Thomas bent down to pick up his discarded shirt and slipping it back on before grabbing Maze's dress and handing it to her gently. He didn't watch her shove the dress over her head to hide her nearly naked frame.

"Looking for Arthur," his father replied, looking around Thomas to glimpse the woman hiding behind his son.

"Obviously, he's not here," Thomas stated, leaning against the wall, protecting Maze.

"She can turn around," Arthur Sr. said, motioning at Maze.

"No, she isn't," Thomas replied, crossing his arms.

"I know it's Mazella," Arthur Sr. moved to take a step closer, but paused, hearing Thomas growl low at him.

"Get out," Thomas ordered. When his father didn't move, Thomas angrily stepped away from Maze and stopped in front of his father.

"Thomas…" Maze whispered, his voice shaky. She kept her head down, refusing to look at the two men. She shook her head softly and cursed to herself for being so lax. It surprised her it took this long before someone caught her and Thomas. Opening her eyes, she saw her hands shaking slightly.

"So….. you and Mazella, this whole time?" Arthur Sr. guessed, giving his son an enormous smile. "Does anyone know about this?"

Fury rolled through him like fire as Thomas took a threatening step toward his father, his eyes flashing dangerously, "If you tell anyone, I'll kill you."

Arthur Sr. shifted back a step from his son. The curse was entrenched in his second oldest child. Arthur Sr. looked into the amber eyes of the Alpha of the Pack and shivered from the curse's power. This wasn't his son he was talking too.

"You wanted nothing to do with the Pack," Arthur Sr accused, feeling Thomas's power.

"Things change." Thomas fumed. He twisted to look at Maze, who kept her eyes closed, then turned back to his father. "What Maze is to me is my business," Thomas said low enough for his father's better hearing to hear him. "Now get out."

"Yes Alpha," Arthur Sr murmured. He took one last look at Thomas, then Maze, before turning and leaving the office.

Thomas stood there, shoving his anger down. Fear rolled in him as anger replaced it. He watched as his father disappeared from the Betting den, hoping the man wouldn't say anything while he was in town. All it would take was a slipped word and half of Small Heath would know. Campbell would know, and he feared Billy Kimber would learn as well. He inhaled slowly, hoping to push down the rolling anger in his veins, the wolf snarling softly. When he calmed enough, he inhaled heavily and turned around to Maze. She threw herself in his arms, shaking.

"It will be alright," he whispered soothingly, his head turned to look at where his father had stood.

Grace sat at an empty table at the Garrison, shifting through the receipts and working through the ledger for the bookkeeping. The day was quiet, but she soon understood the men would get off work shortly and they would flood the Garrison. It gave her time to work on the books for Arthur. His maths was terrible. She preferred working on the books instead of serving beer.

The door opened suddenly as Arthur walked into the pub. He seemed to be in a hurry. "Grace, I'm taking five pounds from petty cash, all right?"

"We don't have five pounds in petty cash," Grace protested.

"Then I'll take what we've got," Arthur said, shifting through the till.

Shaking her head, she turned away from him. "Count it and leave a receipt. Arthur, there are things in these books that I don't understand."

"Likewise," Arthur said, pouring a drink.

"Every week we pay one pound, ten shillings to a postal order to a Daniel Owen in London," she said, turning away from the ledger to look at him for an explanation.

"Danny Whiz-bangs. He hangs around in pubs at Camden wharf for us," Arthur said, taking a sip of his drink. It wouldn't hurt to tell her, he thought. He would mention it to Tommy later if needed.

"I thought Danny Whizz-bang was dead," Grace said.

"You thought very wrong," Arthur said, setting the heavy glass down on the counter with a loud thunk.

"I saw his grave," Grace protested. "He was shot, wasn't he?"

"That was set up to satisfy the wops," Arthur explained, turning around to look at her.

"Who's buried in his grave?" she asked innocently enough. She understood Arthur was the weak link between the three brothers. He was the easiest one to get to talk. Maybe it made him feel powerful that someone turned to him for information instead of Tommy.

Arthur paused at her question. "That's none of your fucking business. You keep your pretty nose out of it if you know what's good for you, yeah?"

Grace nodded, flushed at his insinuation that she would do something stupid to put herself in harm's way.

"Don't tell Tommy I took this," he called out as he walked out of the pub.

Grace sat there, looking around the empty pub, her mind working furiously. If Danny Whizz-bang wasn't buried in the grave and indeed alive, then who or what was inside the grave? Her job as an informant required her to turn in the information to Campbell, but her stomach churned at the thought of betraying Thomas's trust in her.

She wanted him to keep trusting her, even though he seemed distant lately. Grace surmised it was the stress of carrying out his operation and his family's dissonance that kept him from enjoying her company. The night that Freddie Thorne was arrested, her fear was palpable that Thomas would know it was her that turned Freddie in.

Grace hadn't seen him but once since that night and the way he looked, the way his eyes glowed amber, worried and intrigued her. Maybe it had been a trick of the light, but now that she thought about that night, she wasn't so sure. But now, her concern was that if Danny Whizz-bang was alive, then maybe Thomas hid the guns in the empty grave.

She had to find out and quickly closed the ledger, placing it back in the office before locking the pub for an hour. Wrapping her overcoat around her, she walked towards the local cemetery where she knew Danny Whizz-bang was buried. The weak sunlight blinded her as she tiptoed through the cemetery. She was lucky no one followed her. Finding his grave easily, she noticed nothing unusual about it, but it would take more than her to dig the grave up to find out what was inside.

Arthur left the Garrison to meet his father at the boxing ring. The men cheered around them as they walked to find an empty table to sit. It pleased him that his father was back, even if temporarily. Finn followed the two older men dutifully, hoping to get to know the father that abandoned him when he was born. Arthur Shelby Sr. intrigued him, but he didn't see the man as a father.

"That boy needs a good hiding," Arthur Sr. said, talking about Thomas's attitude.

"Yea, well I'm close to giving him one," Arthur Jr. replied, trying to make his father think he ran the family.

"John and Ada too, sounds like." Arthur Sr. said, walking around the empty table to wait for his son to sit down.

"Nah, John moans on bloody principle," Arthur Jr complained. "But if you saw his missus…" Arthur Jr. shook his head in approval.

Arthur Sr. stood there for a moment thinking about Thomas' threat to kill him if he told anyone about Maze. It shook him that his own son threatened to kill him if he spoke out of turn. What had the war done to Thomas? Arthur Sr. remembered the young man smiling and laughing daily instead of threatening to kill people. "Do you have a girl yourself, son?"

Arthur Sr took a seat beside Finn, the son he barely knew, and smirked seeing the boy eye the bottle of alcohol. He twisted the top off as his eldest avoided answering his question by taking a drink of his beer.

"Perhaps when it suits Tommy, eh?" he said, pouring himself a drink, then twisting the cap back on, much to Finn's frown.

"Yea, well," Arthur Jr. said, setting his beer down. "He's changed, you know... since the war."

"Well, a war can change a man," Arthur Sr. said. "Speaking for myself anyway," he said, looking at Finn as he reached into his jacket pocket.

"Where did you fight, dad?" Finn asked, clearly wanting to know more about his dad though the word rolled off his tongue oddly.

Arthur Sr. looked at his eldest child. "All over it seems," he said, pulling out a box of cigarettes. "I've been in America these past several years."

"America," Arthur Jr. said, lifting his beer to his lips and smiling at the thought of a new world that wasn't filled with gang war and death. He did not know the crime was worse in America than in Britain. The corruption deeper.

"The future is in America," Arthur Sr. said, looking at his sons, hoping they would buy his pitch. Frankly, he didn't care about the casino's, but he needed money. "In casino's. I've been studying the competition, their schemes and systems. There is a fortune to be made," Arthur Sr. said, leaning back into his chair.

"The Shelby Casino and Hotel," Arthur Sr. said, looking proud of the name and happy that two of his sons were enchanted with his story. He spun a story of money and women and how the rich would flock to the casino to make them money. Make the Shelbys money, more money than Tommy could give them.

Arthur Jr. sat listening to his father, wide-eyed with excitement. This was something he could do that Tommy wouldn't. It would set him apart from his family and he could build his own fortune. He could be his own man, have as many women as he liked. The Peaky Blinders and the Pack be damned if he could get his hands on this type of grandeur.

"How much to get started?" Arthur Jr. asked excitedly.

Arthur Sr evaded the question, not wanting to spill how much he needed from his son, with Finn sitting there. He reasoned he could corrupt Arthur Jr, convince him to give him the money, but he didn't know Finn very well. Finn could run to Tommy and snitch.

"Let's fucking do it," Arthur Jr. said, looking between his father and youngest brother.

"I don't want to cause any discord between the brothers. Please talk to Tommy about this first, okay?" Arthur Sr pleaded, keeping the pretense of a caring parent.

"I'm sick of taking orders from him," Arthur Jr. said heatedly. "It's been that way since he took over the Blinders and the Pack. He's not the only one who has a head for business around here. I can make my own decisions and Shelby money is Shelby money."

"Now this calls for a celebration!" Arthur Sr. said, grabbing his drink to clink against his son's.

Arthur Sr. rose to his feet quickly and looked down at his eldest. "On your feet," he demanded briskly and walked off, leaving Arthur Jr. wondering what was happening. A few minutes later, the two men were in the boxing ring as Arthur Sr. slapped his son several times, trying to get him to fight.

When Arthur Jr. punched his father back, it became a slaughter as his father beat him into the ring. Once the crowd went silent, Arthur Sr. grabbed his son and hauled him proudly, displaying the hurting man.

"This is Arthur Shelby Jr. This is my son and I am fucking proud of him!"