Kimber's Daughter - Tommy Shelby x Reader Fan Fic

Chapter 26

I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to kiss Tommy Shelby again the whole drive back to Birmingham.

I missed the way things had been between us before. The easy, playful, flirtatious banter. His hand on my leg as he drove. But it was better this way. I needed to protect myself — and clearly, he felt the same way.

But being in the confined space of the car, watching the setting sun cast the sky in a burnt terracotta, left me with a feeling of crippling loneliness. The taste of his lips still lingered on my own. I could still see, in my mind, his glacial eyes, burning into my own.

"We're being followed," Tommy said quietly.

It was enough to snap me from my daydreams. I glanced in the mirror.

"Perhaps they're just heading to Birmingham?" I whispered.

Tommy shook his head. "I turned off on the old farm road, then came back again."

The black Ford loomed ominously behind us.

"What do we do?" I asked.

"We see if we can make it to Small Heath before the fighting starts," Tommy said calmly.

We drove further without incident. The car stuck to us like glue. My stomach bubbled with anxiety all the while, as I longed for our own car to go faster, for us to make it closer. Just a little further, I repeated to myself, over and over. Just a little further.

A bang shot through the car, throwing us off balance. Tommy slammed on the brakes, but still we slid, veering off road and crashing into the ditch separating the farmland. My head smacked against the car's frame with a sharp crack. I winced, raising a hand to the tender spot in my skull.

"Kimber, get down," Tommy ordered.

Shots rang through the air. I bent forward, waiting, as Tommy pushed his door open and pulled his pistol. He waited, calculating, until the shots stopped, then he leaned out and returned fire.

I glanced behind us, and three men had gotten out of the following car. They approached, guns drawn, firing without mercy. Glass shattered around us and I shrieked, completely unprotected.

"Stay down," Thomas growled.

I did as he said, but risked peeking around once more when Tommy returned a second round of fire. One man was already crumpled on the road. Tommy took down another with no more than a cherry of red blood forming a circle in the centre of his forehead.

But then Tommy's firing amounted to no more than fruitless clicks. He was out of bullets. And the last man knew it. He gave a shit eating grin, and his next shot hit its target.

Tommy swore as he pulled himself back in the car, crimson flowers spilling through his white shirt across his torso.

"Tommy," I whispered in horror.

"The gun," he said, teeth clenched. "Pass me the gun."

I brought my hand to my pocket, but before I could draw it, felt a cool steel pistol pressed to the back of my head. He was here. Right behind me. I lifted my hands slowly into the air. My eyes did not leave Tommy, his chest rising and falling as he bled out. I wondered if this was it. If the last thing Tommy or I would know before greeting death, was a chaos and a car crash.

"Fucking hell." The man exhaled in relief. The gun left my head. "We've been looking everywhere for you. Are you alright, Miss Kimber?"

I turned in a daze. I didn't recognise him by name, but the man clearly worked for my father. The quality of his suit alone assured me of that. He pointed his gun at Tommy once more. "Sorry I can't finish him off. Your father's orders. But I'm sure he'll let you watch. I hear he's got great plans for this one."

Shaking, I got out of the car.

"Go on now, Miss. Back to the automobile." The man grimaced at the bodies. "It's a shame about Barnes and Goode. But we'll make this piece of shit pay for it. Don't you worry about that."

I gave a small smile. "We definitely will."

Before he could react, I pulled the silver pistol from my coat and fired twice. It wasn't a clean, elegant kill, as Tommy's headshot had been. This man's head exploded. Brains splattered everywhere. Though satisfaction did not elude me, my overarching reaction was to bend over and vomit.

"Tommy," I said, stumbling to the other side of the car.

His breathing was laboured. I ripped his shirt free from him, to assess the damage. He exhaled sharply.

"Don't you worry about me, Kimber." His voice lacked his former strength, but still he displayed no emotion. "Good shot."

The bullet wound was deep and bleeding profusely. I immediately bunched Tommy's shirt in my hands and began to apply pressure, ignoring his stilted breath.

"I tried to tell you," I said, trying to distract him as I worked. "My father made sure I was good with a gun. Ironically," I added bitterly, "in case of kidnappers."

"I meant what I said," Tommy murmured. "I'm glad I kidnapped you."

I exhaled, resting my head against Tommy's other shoulder for a moment. I kept pressure on the bullet wound. The shirt would be soaked through before long, but I could deal with that. I would deal with that. For him.

"I don't surprise we could break the rules just once more," he asked softly. "For a dying man?"

"You're not dying," I scolded him gently. "John and Arthur weren't far behind. They'll be here any minute. And then..."

"And then what?" he asked.

I didn't know. But the fear of losing him, that my limited first aid wouldn't be enough, felt like shards of glass in my throat.

"Kiss me, Kimber," Tommy said quietly. "And I'll die a happy man."

"You're not dying," I reminded him again harshly, too harshly. "It's... barely a puncture wound."

But still, under his heavy gaze, I could not refuse him. It was almost pathetic. All he had to do was look at me, really look at me, with the same hunger that existed in his eyes in this moment. And I was his.

I brought my lips to his once more and almost sighed in relief at the taste of him. He was feverish, his skin clammy, but I adored him like this just as I adored him any other way. It didn't matter that we were both covered in a mixture of blood, or that my head still throbbed from the collision. I supposed it was just the Shelby way. Where my father sent men to dirty their hands and risk their lives, Tommy jumped straight in.

And that meant, from now on, I was in it with him.

"A car's coming," I whispered, breaking the kiss. I  pressed my lips to his cheek, his forehead. "I'm going to check if it's Arthur and John. You," I placed his hands on top of his bundled shirt, pushing them down to apply pressure. "Hold this here. Okay?"

"I know how to treat a gunshot wound, Kimber."

I pulled myself away from Tommy, praying to a god I'd long ago stopped believing in, that somehow we'd make it through this.