1 I was visiting my folks back home when I saw my uncle, Frank, holding my six-month-old nephew and trying to get him to drink whiskey. My sister-in-law, Chloe, tried to stop him. Frank’s wife, my Aunt Brenda, slapped her across the face. "Who do you think you gave birth to, the Pope? How dare you refuse a drink from his Great Uncle!" My brother, Adam, tried to defuse the situation. Uncle Frank just laughed in his face. "You're a lost cause, you don't even drink. I'm teaching your son right! A little whiskey helps 'em grow! Build that tolerance young, and he'll be a man's man!" My little nephew, Leo, was bright red and screaming his lungs out. I walked over, grabbed Uncle Frank by the throat, shoved a handful of pills into his mouth, and washed it down with half a bottle of Jack Daniel's. "You know what they say about antibiotics and booze! Bottoms up!" Then I drop-kicked Aunt Brenda, got on top of her, and gave her a taste of my "eighteen-palm-strike." "You like hitting women? How about one your own size!" They were screaming, crying, clawing for their phones to call 911. I just smiled. "Funny, isn't it? You're so eager to save your own lives. Why was it so wrong when she tried to save her son's?" I’m the evil sister. Lazy, good-for-nothing, and a total menace. I’ve got a spine of steel and a zero-tolerance policy for BS. Combine that with my finely-honed fighting skills and a 24/7 arsenal of insults, and I’m pretty much infamous back home. Everyone avoids me. Which, by association, screwed over my brother, Adam. No matchmaker in a fifty-mile radius would touch him. Finally, after college, he met a girl on his own. The day before he brought her home, my mom grabbed me by the ear. "Sloane," she warned, "you control that mouth and those hands." "If you scare this one off, I swear to God, I will reenact your entire childhood discipline!" I surrendered. I was a perfect angel. When we went to the bus station to pick her up, Adam ran into a store for water. I was walking his girlfriend, Chloe, to the car when three local punks blocked our path. They whistled, said some disgusting things, and then one of them reached for her. Chloe shrank back, her eyes filling with tears. I sighed. "Hey! You guys ever heard of Sloane?" The punks paused. "You mean the Linwood Lunatic? The baddest bitch in town? Yeah, we know of her." I sighed again. "That's me." I didn’t waste any more time. I dropped into a horse stance. A quick jab to the throat. A 360-degree spin kick. A swift, precise kick to the family jewels. By the time Adam got back with the water, they were all on the ground. He looked like he’d just seen a ghost. He started stammering, trying to explain to Chloe. "My sister... she doesn't... she doesn't beat people up every day. Just... you know... frequently." He was making it worse. He finally just shut up, clearly wondering if he could get her on a return bus tonight. But Chloe’s face... she grabbed Adam’s hand, her eyes shining. "Adam, I always thought you were kind of a pushover. I had no idea you had a heavy-hitter in your family!" "Just for your sister," she declared, "I am marrying you!" And just like that, the first meeting turned into an engagement. The next day, Chloe’s parents flew in. Chloe was whispering to her mom, pointing at me. Her mom’s eyes got brighter and brighter, staring at me with an intensity I didn't understand. It wasn't how you look at a potential sister-in-law. It was how you look at a prize-winning pitbull. 2 My mom was convinced Chloe had a few screws loose. Because after they got married, the family hierarchy was: 1. Leo (the baby), 2. Me, 3. The dog, 4. Adam. My brother was devastated. "I get the baby, okay! But why is Sloane more important than me?" "Are you telling me you only married me because of my sister?" Chloe was blunt. "Yeah, pretty much." She explained it to him. Our family (me excluded) is too nice. We're soft. We get bullied. Investing in me now, she said, was like having a nuclear deterrent. If anyone ever started trouble, I was the "call in the cavalry" option. It gave her a profound sense of security. Adam thought she was being paranoid. Until Leo was six months old, and we went back home for a family dinner. Uncle Frank got his hands on Leo and immediately tried to pour whiskey into his mouth. "Gotta build his tolerance! Start 'em young! C'mon, little man, have a taste!" Leo, only six months old, was instantly overwhelmed by the fumes and started screaming, his little legs kicking. Frank didn't care. He waited for the baby to open his mouth to cry and dripped the liquor right in. Leo, shocked by the burn, wailed, his face turning a terrifying shade of red. Frank just laughed and started tossing the baby up in the air. "A little whiskey to clear his sins, a little screaming to clear his lungs! C'mon, let's make you brave!" He was tossing my nephew around like a sack of potatoes. Leo, terrified by the repeated feeling of falling, went rigid. The relatives around them were laughing. Laughing. Aunt Brenda chimed in. "My, my, city kids are so delicate. Crying over a drop of alcohol? He’s probably just stupid, right?" Frank waved his hand. "He's fine! I'll give him another sip. It'll make him smart!" He picked up his glass again. Someone finally said, "Frank, that's enough. He's just a baby." Aunt Brenda’s eyes narrowed. "He's almost one! He can't have a sip of whiskey?" Frank ignored them, lifting the glass. Leo, remembering the burn, clamped his mouth shut and twisted his head. Brenda got angry. "Oh, for God's sake. I'll get it in him." She reached out and pinched Leo's nose shut. The baby gasped for air, his mouth flying open. Frank poured. Leo choked, a horrible, gasping, coughing sound. 3 Chloe heard the commotion and ran in. She saw what was happening and went feral, ripping Leo out of Frank's arms. The baby was just... limp. He couldn't even cry anymore. "What did you do to my son?" Chloe screamed. Frank just grunted. "About time you showed up. No respect. Yelling at your elders." Brenda sneered. "We gave him a sip of booze, not poison. Stop acting like he's dying." "He's a baby! You can't give him alcohol!" Aunt Brenda's face twisted. She hauled off and slapped Chloe so hard she stumbled. "This is our family's house. We don't need an outsider telling us what to do! Who do you think you are? Your kid is too good for his uncle's whiskey?" Chloe fell, clutching Leo. She’s the sweetest person I know. She’s never been in a fight in her life. But Leo was making a tiny, kitten-like sound, his face an unnatural red. "If anything... if anything happens to my son," she whispered, "I swear to God, I'll kill you." It was the most violent thing she could muster. Aunt Brenda just laughed, got on top of her, and started wailing on her. "You'll kill me? You'll kill me? Let's see you try, you little bitch!" Chloe just curled around the baby, taking the punches. Frank sat back down, sipping his drink. "Everyone's a witness! She threatened us! This is self-defense!" He picked up an empty beer bottle. "Brenda, move. You hit like a girl." He smashed the bottle over Chloe’s head. Blood. Chloe just groaned, trying to stay conscious. Brenda, cackling, saw the broken glass on the floor. She grabbed Chloe’s hand and stomped on it. "Was this the hand you pushed my husband with? Huh?" She ground her heel in. "I'll teach you!" 4 Someone ran and got my brother. Adam saw his wife on the floor, bloody, and his son limp, and he grabbed a fireplace poker. He’s never been in a fight. He just ran in, swinging blindly. He caught Brenda on the arm, hard enough to make her scramble back. "You hit me? You hit me?" Brenda shrieked, collapsing. "HE'S TRYING TO MURDER ME! ADAM IS KILLING HIS AUNT! EVERYONE, LOOK!" Adam’s face was purple. He ignored her, pulling Chloe and Leo up. "Chloe... oh my god... we're going to the hospital." Chloe just pointed at the baby. "Leo... first. He's... he's not crying right..." Adam saw the baby's state and bolted for the door. Frank blocked him. "Hit your aunt and run? Not so fast. You apologize, and you pay up." Brenda, from the floor: "A hundred thousand dollars! Or you're not leaving!" Chloe, holding her bleeding head, was shaking with rage. "You... you hit me! You attacked my son! You're insane!" Brenda just lay there. "I'm your elder. I'm allowed to teach you a lesson. You hit me? That's a crime!" Adam, his voice trembling: "Uncle Frank, let me take my son to the doctor. We'll... we'll talk about this after." Frank's eyes glittered. "He's fine. He just had a sip. Let's talk about the money first." Adam gritted his teeth. "Frank... don't push me." Frank sneered. "Or what? You'll hit me, too?" Adam took a deep breath. And he roared. "SLOANE!" I was right outside the window. "ON IT!" "Do whatever you want! I'll take the fall!" "SAY LESS!" I slammed the gas on my pickup. The truck crashed through the front gate, the entire structure collapsing inward. The wooden gate slammed flat, trapping Frank underneath it. I didn't stop. I ran the front wheels right over his legs. We all heard the SNAP. As he started to scream, I jumped out of the cab and dusted off my jeans. "Everyone else? Get out. Now. Or you're next."
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