Kimber's Daughter - Tommy Shelby x Reader Fan Fic

Chapter 5

The antique clocked ticked past the hours until Tommy and Arthur came home. My back ached from the angle I was forced to sit in the chair, and my eyelids grew heavy. Somehow my body was exhausted from the ordeal it had been through and all I craved was to be back in my bed at home, covered in silk with a roaring fire crackling beside me as I drifted to sleep.

The thought must have lulled me into a light sleep, because before I knew it a door slammed shut and I jerked upright. It took a moment of confusion to regain my bearings — Peaky Blinders. Small Heath. Shelby. I sent a silent prayer that my father would get me out of here soon, that his pride would win over his apathy.

"Go on, John," I heard Tommy say from the next room over. "The night is yours at last."

John grunted. "Bit fucking late now."

"The Garrison's still open, John. Arthur'll head back with you. There's a few bookies got lucky in the weekend, they're buying a pint for anyone who'll so much as look in their direction."

There was a pause before the scraping of a chair, the rustling of a coat, the sharp clap of what I presumed to be Arthur's hands on John's shoulders. I waited with bated breath as Tommy began his slow, torturous entrance to the main room, lighting a cigarette as he strolled. He stood in the doorway in silence, considering me as he drew in the tobacco smoke. I filled my line of sight with all the venom I could muster. My spine ached.

"Pleasant evening?" He asked conversationally.

"Where am I to sleep?" I asked.

He inclined his head. "I've spent many a night falling asleep while working. You'll find the chairs are quite comfortable."

"You weren't handcuffed to the table leg."

"No," he finally agreed. "No, I wasn't."

"You kick up all that fuss about me not eating tea, now you're depriving me of a place to rest?" I asked.

Tommy strolled slowly into the room. "Awfully demanding for a hostage, aren't you? You'll be wanting a fair wage, next."

I took a sharp breath. "If you wanted to kill me, you would have done it by now. The fact you haven't suggests you plan very much on letting me out of here alive. You know who my father is, but you know very little about me, because I keep it that way. So, what you don't know, is how many men I have killed. How proficient I am with a gun. Or with torture." I kept my face even. "And when I'm gone from this place, very much alive, I'll have a great deal of time on my hands to think. To remember. And I can remember the Shelby's as shrewd businessmen, to whom I was unfortunate collateral, but treated very kindly given the circumstances. Or I can remember you as savages who forced me to go without toileting or sleeping, stripping me of all my dignity." I set my jaw. "The choice is yours, Mister Shelby. Choose wisely."