18. silver lining

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CHAPTER 18

SILVER LINING

He set fire to the world around him 

but never let a flame touch her.


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Thomas had barely put the telephone down when Finn barged into his office, the furrow between his brows deepening upon the sight of his older brother holstering his gun; a gesture that too often paved the way for death.

"Tommy! Do you know where the fuck Andrea is? We were supposed to meet today at Regent's Park but she's nowhere to be found! I had everything planned already, I even asked Frances to prepare a picnic and all... I thought girls liked those stuff!"

Thomas pinched the bridge of his nose, the youth in Finn's voice crumbling under the oldness of his own thoughts. He could barely keep his eyes open; just like a stomach that's starving, a mind that's overfull will mercilessly keep its owner awake, and Thomas knew that better than anyone.

Still, he pushed himself into the present. Slivers of sunshine seeped through the windows and gathered in his hands, but no light could clean the blood as well as Rose had.

"Planning on proposing, were you?"

"Well, no but... a kiss, maybe? We haven't even done that! Aren't the French more forward in that?"

"Andrea's out of the city, went on a trip with her brother. It was a last-minute thing, hence, why she didn't tell ya." A last-minute thing indeed; after Alfie had left her apartment, Rose had marched into the night to yank Raphael and Andrea out of their beds, demanding they'd leave the city for a while. It was bad. Thomas saw in her eyes when he mentioned the S. He had only ever seen that level of pain when he looked in the mirror.

"But the picnic..." Finn's whines were drowned when the door yet again burst open and a group of Peaky Blinders walked in, grave stares and tensed shoulders putting every one of Thomas' nerves on alert. Nothing sobered him up as well as danger.

"What is it?"

The answer came in the form of a pipe bomb placed on his mahogany desk. It was homemade, with a skill Thomas had only ever seen during the war.

"Found on the Grace Shelby Institute this morning. Kids were playing football not far from it. Luckily, we disarmed it in time."

"Bloody hell, Tommy, who is it now? Fenians? The bloody Russians again?" It was Finn, but his voice didn't make sense to Thomas. There was a wall between him and his thoughts and he couldn't tear it down fast enough, not before a thought became another entirely different.

THE FRENCH KISSERS ― Thomas ShelbyWhere stories live. Discover now