Power and Lies

Five

"I've come to believe that in everyone's life, there's one undeniable moment of change, a set of circumstances that suddenly alters everything."
-Nicholas Sparks 

There was blood pouring from his chest, coating Freya's hands and dripping onto the floor. Oh god, what had she done. The thoughts repeated through her mind. She was no murderer, yet the knife on the floor spoke to something far different. They would hang her, she would end her small life a dishonor to her family and swinging in the wind. She had not meant to do it, the blade simply slipped into the flesh. It had been far more resistant than she thought, she had to fight to get the blade back out. Her defense would speak of passion, a wife scorned, at her wits end with the cheating and the beating and the lies. The prosecution would say she was a black widow, playing games in the gang and trying to make a name for herself. Maybe she was all of those things.

"Oh god," she whispered again, bringing her hands to her face and tucking herself into a ball. Bloody handprints imprinted themselves on her cheeks and she began to weep, her body convulsing uncontrollably. What had she done? Poor Lee should've never ended up on the end of her blade, but he did, and now he was dead.

Freya woke with a start, sweat beading on her forehead. A breath of relief passed through her. It was a nightmare, a terrible nightmare. She was not a murderer. Lee's bed was empty. He never came home, and she strongly suspected he was off living his secret life. A groan escaped her as she stretched out her muscles. Her body was sore and the places where Lee had grabbed her were turning a light purple. She could only hope the dress she picked covered them.

When she arrived at the house Thomas was waiting, an impatient look on his face. She had not been late, instead opting to leave almost an hour early to assure her promptness. And yet he seemed displeased. She smoothed down the draped black dress she had chosen nervously and stepped into the house.

"Good morning." He did not reply, instead he walked outside, returning only moments later in a car. She had never ridden in a car. Even when she had moved here with Lee they had taken the train, arriving only with a few outfits and his dreams. He held a door open for her, holding out his hand for her to hold as she climbed in. It was small, but not altogether uncomfortable. But it was loud. She suspected conversation would be in shorter supply than it already was.

Tommy slid into the seat next to her and looked forward as they began to drive down the cobbled street, her feet aching as they hit bump after bump. It was a road for horses, and the tires of the car made it fairly uncomfortable travel.

"There will be a man there. Tall, black hair. His name is Finnigan. He runs some of the docks we need in the next town. You're here to seduce him." She looked at him, her mouth slightly agape. She had not anticipated a job like this. She was no whore, she would not use her body for his amusement for some space on the water.

"Why do you not just make a deal with him?"

He lit a cigarette and she stared as the end glowed red. "He will not make a deal."

"But I am married," she pointed out. Her marriage was a cage meant for misery, but it did not make it any less valid. The ring on her finger spoke of a contract she had signed. "He will see my ring. I will be of no use to you."

"Men like him do not care for rings and vows, Freya, they only care for a place to sink themselves at night."

"I am no whore."

"Tonight you are." Her hand swung out on its own accord, slapping his arm with a resounding thud as it hit on the fabric of his suit. The car rolled to a stop and she ceased to breathe for a moment as she stared into the eyes of an angry Thomas Shelby.