Kimber's Daughter - Tommy Shelby x Reader Fan Fic

Chapter 22

It might have been adrenaline or fury that kept me upright and able to walk, a fraction more sober than I had been moments before. I made it down the steps without any accidents — thank goodness — and slipped into the crowd of people. I expected a Shelby hand on my shoulder, orders in my ear, but none came. I was still alone. I pushed through the crowd, barely dodging lit cigars and loosely-held drinks as I stumbled my way through to the riders' tent. Anger burned in my veins. That poor horse.

I saw her immediately outside the tent, splayed on her back, two vets beside her with a stethoscope and needles and a whole briefcase of bottles and medicine. The jockey had a foul expression on his face as the vets worked to calm the mare.

"How is she?" I asked them as I approached.

One vet wearing circular glasses stood up. "Are you the owner?"

"I'm with the company that owns her, yes."

"Three of her legs are broken. She went into shock," the vet said gently. "We've given her pain relief but... our only option is to euthanise."

I shook my head slowly. "No. She doesn't need to race. We'll take her back home, we can—"

The jockey snorted. "Don't know shit about horses, do you? You going to put three of her legs into a sling? Keep her sedated for months, letting sores fester all over her while the bones mend?" He kicked at the ground. "The mare was fucked before she even set foot on the course. I knew she was lame this morning."

I burned red, approaching the jockey, my mouth a thin line. "The horse was fine. We inspected her ourselves. You rode her too hard, right into the ground."

"Its the races, love." The jockey spat at my feet. "You want to be a part of this world, better start learning."

"Go fuck yourself."

The jockey's eyes bulged for a moment, then he pulled back his fist and sent it colliding with my cheek. Blinding white pain threw my head to the side, a piercing ringing noise sounding through my ear. Dazed, I lifted a hand to my cheek. It was already beginning to throb.

Before I knew what was happening, Tommy was there, launching hit after hit into the jockey. Blood spurted from the man's nose, mouth, spraying everywhere, all over Tommy. He didn't care. He kept going, like a man possessed, his mouth a thin line of anger. The vets stepped back in shock. One glanced anxiously to the nearest policeman, across by the stands, concealed by people.

"Mister Shelby," the jockey mumbled, forcing the words through thick pools of blood, "I— I didn't—"

Thomas lay one final blow with a crunch. The jockey slid to the floor, eyes rolling back. I noted, with a small hint of mercy, he was still breathing. There were witnesses here, after all, and Tommy didn't own the Dorset police like he did up north.

"You set foot onto a race course ever again in your sorry life, and I'll break your legs," Thomas threatened. He clutched the front of the jockey's shirt, holding him up as he spoke. "Let the sores fester across you, eh? And be thankful I'm letting you live, after you dared lay hands on my wife. Go on. Thank her."

Wife? My head spun. I supposed it made more sense than calling me a friend, or... whatever it is we were.

"Thank you," the man stammered through dribbles of blood.

"Good lad," Thomas said. "Now, fuck off." He turned to the vets who were still staring in terror. "You got a handkerchief?"

They fumbled with supplies straight away, finally passing Tommy a damp cloth. He ran it across his blood-splattered face, hands.

"You alright?" He asked me.

I nodded. My head was still spinning, my cheek raw. I knew I ought to feel angry that Tommy had followed me, that he hadn't let me handle the man myself.... But if I was being completely honest, in my drunken state, his protectiveness gave me the urge to rip his clothes off.

What was happening to me?

"They have to put her down," I said quietly, gesturing to the horse, returning to my senses.

Tommy nodded, finishing cleaning himself. "Best we're with her then."

We sat on the ground beside the mare as her large eyes slowly blinked. The painkillers had sedated her heavily. I ran my hand gently across her cheek, her neck. Tears welled in my eyes and spilled across my cheeks.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered to her.

"Injecting the barbiturates," the vet said gently.

Tommy placed a hand on the mare, and a hand over my own. His expression did not change. I felt foolish — this was business to him, he must have done this all the time. And here I was crying like a baby. But I could not dry my eyes for several long minutes after the mare's own closed, after her breathing stilled, and the vets whispered they would give us a moment alone.

"Forgive me," I finally said to Tommy. I wiped my face. "You must think I'm too sensitive."

"If you're too sensitive, then so am I." We sat in silence for a moment. "It's a shame," he said. "She was a good horse."

"You must have lost a lot of money," I murmured.

"We'll make it back," he said. His eyes flickered to mine. "Are you going to tell me what you were doing, drinking with John and Arthur?"

"We just played a game," I mumbled.

His eyes flashed. "What sort of game?"

"Sorry." I gave a small smile. "My lips are sealed."

I wondered for a moment if he would push the matter further.

"Let's get you back to the hotel," he said.

I wondered how I was meant to survive another night sharing a bed with this man.