✓ | GOLDEN LIAR ↠ Thomas Shelby.

28.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

               BETRAYAL. THAT WAS WHAT it was, wasn't it? Complete and utter betrayal against the one man that she loved more than anything, the man who sat before her now, innocent and unknowing. 

Tommy Shelby was beyond happy. He'd had a more than good day at the bustling betting shop and felt as though he was finally getting somewhere after a couple of dry weeks in terms of business, so he'd entered the Garrison knowing that there was a blonde Woods girl waiting for him behind the bar.

"Evening, Mr Shelby," Felicity said with a happy smile.

Tommy took to the stool in front of her, swiping the bottle of whiskey from in front of him as well as a glass. "Evening, Mrs Shelby," he returned, unable to stop the smile from spreading across his features but still attempting to cover it by tipping his newfound drink back.

"Mind that," she scolded as he reached for the bottle yet again. "And mind the name ― we've still got a month to go before I'm tied to your hip, remember. I'm still the Woods girl that you've just so happened to pick up until then."

The gangster laughed; his eyes followed the girl as she stuck the whiskey back where it came from before slipping out from behind the bar. Golden tresses pinned back messily and hazel eyes sparkling with the light of one thousand and one suns, she seemed as happy as she ever was, and because of this, so was he. His elation rode on hers and whilst Tommy knew that Felicity had a tendency of persevering her optimism even through the worst of times, he could tell the difference between when she was cowering beneath a problem she was too stubborn to get help from him for. And, with a bit of luck, she might trust him in time to help with every one of her troubles. 

"How's your day been?" Felicity sparked up some small―talk that had no chance of leading into more dangerous talks of betrayal and love and everything in between. She swiped a soft cotton rag from the bar―top and stuffed it between the ties of her apron, and then made her way around; grabbed the buckets and swirled their murky contents about before tipping one into the other, and repeating that with the others that remained. It was a tedious job, and Felicity sometimes found herself wishing that she had convinced Tommy to let her count money or bets at the betting den. . . but the pay was enough to satisfy her and Harry was as lenient of a boss as they came, even if it was because she was more often than not found at sides of the Shelby brothers and their Peaky Blinders acquaintances. 

Besides, if she was to spend all of her days at the betting shop, there would be more of a chance that her guilt would build up so much that it would simply erupt over everything and she would spill her shameful and deceitful betrayal in one awful moment.

"Hellish."

She glanced up at this. "Can I help with. . . anything?" Playfully suggestive, but with the hint of seriousness, because she too wanted to see him anything but stressed over the races he fixed and the deals he made.

Tommy's face remained still as he shrugged ever so slightly. "You can drop those and come over here, for starters."

Felicity laughed, but shook her head. "I told Harry I'd finish cleaning up before six."

"You've got half an hour, then. A lot you can do in half an hour."

She pursed her lips together to repress her amusement, and still she refused, knowing just how much it infuriated him as he needed the release as much as she did. The girl ignored both him and the sound of a chair being pushed out of his way ― instead, she kept tidying the room, swiping glasses from where they lay, discarded, on the tables and stacking them in one another.