Thomas Shelby sits in the snug room of the Garrison pub. His pub, his room. The Shelby Room. He holds a cigarette in his fingers occasionally lifting it to his mouth and letting it fall again. He spins an empty clear glass in a circle in his hand on the table. The small window that connects the room directly to the pub bar opens as another body appears on the other side of it. The pub wasn't opened yet, even if it were it wouldn't be busy. It was race day, it would stay nearly empty until they were over. The real fun would begin shortly after depending on the results of the races. Winners and losers all drowning themselves in the whiskey either satisfied or agitated.
"Do you need another one Mr. Shelby?" A woman speaks as her Irish accent sounds foreign in the English pub. Her accent being the same type of whiskey the bar mostly served however. Her blonde hair falls in perfect curls just at her shoulders and her complexion is near perfection as her face sheds not a single speck of makeup on it. She had natural beauty, the kind most of the men that occupied the pub drooled over. The main reason why the pub got so busy every night was because of her.
"No, no. It's race day Grace, I allow myself only one on these days." His eyes stay trained on the glass as he responds back to her.
"That sounds like a good rule." He can hear her smile as she talks without needing to look at her.
She withdraws behind the window as it closes, separating the two bodies once more. He's alone again in the small room which wasn't unusual. Thomas Shelby could come and go as he pleased any time of the day or night in the pub. In the town of Small Heath, you either feared the Shelby's or worked for them.
The front door of the pub swings open and shuts which breaks Thomas's concentration. He stands from his chair but doesn't move any more than that. The cigarette in between his lips now. His fingers just barely graze across the top of the table as he listens to the footsteps as they slowly approach the private room door. He raises his hand inside his jacket gripping to the gun that rests in the holster at his side. A man like Thomas Shelby always has enemies in the world wanting him dead or alive. He watches the knob twists but the door stands in place. Whoever on the other side hesitating before entering the room. The door finally pushes open and Thomas immediately let's go of the gun as he sees his little brother standing in the doorway.
"You're needed at the den Tommy," John barely meets Thomas's eyes. "It's Rose. Someone's gotten to her."
Thomas leaves the empty glass on the table as he pushes past his brother into the main floor of the bar. Grace is wiping off the counter as the two men walk out the door together, the younger one behind the older.
Out on the street, the cold air bites at the bare skin of the men as they tighten their hats down on their heads. The heat from the blast furnaces are the only sense of warmth during the bleak winter. Thomas and John stride down Garrison Lane heads high and strong, even when something happens you must never show weakness. They head towards Watery Lane where the den resides on. It's a residential street with normal families living in normal houses. The Shelby's are not a normal family. Nor do they live in a normal house. But a family they are never-the-less. Children are running up and down Watery Lane, some with barely any clothes on in the middle of December. As Thomas and John turn down the lane, most of the children run back to their own houses hiding behind whatever they can find just so they can sneak a look at the Peaky Blinders. They were more magnificent when it was all of them walking together but today just the two men walk straight to their numbered house and go inside.
The heat from the fireplace has warmed the entire house by now, Thomas pulls his jacket off himself and throws it over one of the bidding desk sitting in the middle of the room. Esme is sitting on the stairs with her hands clasped together, eyes shut saying the same prayer over and over. John goes and stands next to her leaning again the wooden beams that holds the stairs up. Thomas can see the back doors are clear open and Finn is sitting in one of the chairs at the table. He walks towards the doors and once he reaches them he sees her.
He takes in every detail he can see mentally documenting it in his mind. She's still lying on the floor in his aunts lap. Her skin is pale and already showing off the bruises she's been given. Her hair is a mess and blood mixed with mud cakes to her skin. She has a few cuts and scratches on her face and arms, she always puts up a good fight. If you thought going after one of the Shelby sisters was an easier fight than going after the brothers then you were very mistaken. The girls always fought harder than the boys did because they had too. They didn't have the infamous hats with razor blades sewn into them. They didn't have the guns. They just had themselves.
Thomas walks in the kitchen and stands behind Polly. Finn looks up at him and knows to excuse himself before he has to ask. Finn gets up to leave and closes the doors behind him. Thomas and Polly were the only ones with Rose now. Polly keeps her focus on the girl, making sure to watch her chest slowly rise and collapse as it's the only sign if she is still alive or not.
"Who did it?" His voice is cold and his face emotionless. He wanted to skip all the bullshit and just get down to who was responsible. Thomas Shelby was a man that glorified revenge when it was justified, and looking down at his younger sister unconscious on the floor of their kitchen seemed pretty justified to him.
"Kimber. She has a "K" carved behind her ear, would you care to take a look?" Polly voice is hard as she brushes the girls hair out of the way. A bright red "K" stands out against her fair skin as Polly slowly runs her thumb over it. She never went easy on the boys, not anymore, they were grown men now and responsible for their actions. She didn't baby them in the slightest but she also did everything she could to protect them.
"Alright." And with that, Thomas walked out of the room back into the den.
"Alright? That's it?" Polly voice trails after him but it's no use because once Thomas Shelby was on the move, it was hard to get him to stop.
This time he wasn't stopping. He wasn't going to stop until he put a bullet through Billy Kimber's head.
YOU ARE READING
Bullets & Pearls
Fanfiction"You are protected by your brothers. You are respected by society. You are as well expected to hold yourself to higher standards. You are a Shelby." "Oh is that an order? I can't tell Thomas, are you saying that as a Peaky Blinder or as my brother...
