Kimber's Daughter - Tommy Shelby x Reader Fan Fic

Chapter 30

"I must admit, I'm relieved you're coming back," John said, holding an umbrella for me as we stepped out into the rain. "Tommy's been going beserk back home. Damn near ripped open his stitches."

"Don't tell me that," I sighed.

"Why do you torment him so, eh Kimber?"

"Me? Torment him?" I stopped walking and faced John with all of my anger. "When were you lot going to tell me my father's been in Small Heath? Hurting people?"

John kept his face even, but his eyes narrowed. "How did you find out about that?"

"People talk, John Shelby. Did you really think I wouldn't hear about it? Did you take me for a fool? And all because your idiot brother doesn't trust me." I began walking again, leaving John to jog in my wake to keep up.

"You still don't understand, do you? Of course Tommy trusts you."

"Clearly."

"He's trying to protect you." I slowed my pace as John spoke. "He knows it would be hard on you seeing your dad. He knows you're not ready for that yet."

"No," I tried to argue, but my voice faltered. "He's deciding for me."

"Of course he's not. He knows you well enough, Kimber, to see it all over you plain as day. And for that matter, so do I. When the time comes, Tommy won't stop you. Even if you choose to go back to your father. Even if you royally fuck us over. We'll probably try to kill you for it," John shrugged. "But Tommy would give you a head start, at least. And as for the meeting this morning, why the fuck would Tommy want to talk about killing your father in front of you? He doesn't want to hurt you. Especially not after you just killed a man."

"It makes no difference."

"You haven't even slept."

"Because I was worried about Tommy."

"Exactly." John shook his head. "Why you two won't just sort yourselves out, I'll never understand. I really thought, at the races... never mind. The point is, you're being too hard on him. And he's going to bleed himself dry trying to make it up to you in his current state. So... go easy on him. Okay?"

I mulled over John's words for a moment. Could they be true? Had I misinterpreted Tommy so badly? The flames of whiskey in my stomach turned to a sick feeling. Guilt. And alcohol before breakfast.

"You've got some real trust issues," John muttered. "You and Tommy are made for each other."

"Hardly."

We made it back to the house in one piece. I saw John's fine suit was covered in rain. He'd left without even donning his coat to come find me, and then held the umbrella for me on the walk home.

"I'm sorry you're all wet," I told him.

He shook his head. "Doesn't matter." He opened the door for us. "You better go talk to him."

I nodded. "John? Thank you."

***

I knew I had to see Tommy, but I found myself unable to face him just yet. I marched past the dining room and upstairs to the bathroom. I ran a bath, taking my time to get the temperature right, and then taking my time washing my hair, my skin. I massaged the last of the crusted blood from my fingernails. By the time I'd finished, the water was a pale crimson. I was literally lying in a bath of Thomas Shelby's blood, I realised. At one time, the thought would have left me feeling victorious. Now it just made me sad.

The house was quiet. I wrapped myself in a towel and padded along the landing to the bedroom that had become my own. Releasing a sigh, I pushed open the door.

And immediately froze.

Thomas Shelby was sitting on my bed.

We stared at each other for a moment. He'd put a shirt and trousers on. I could see beads of blood breaking through the crisp cotton, from his wound.

"You should be lying down," I whispered, clutching the towel tighter around my chest.

"While you're roaming the streets of Birmingham?" Tommy's face was cold, impassive. "I don't think so, Kimber."

It was clear Tommy was used to getting his own way. This intimidating Shelby persona had made grown men, killers, cower in their shoes. But I'd grown up in this world. I knew not to give in to fear.

And so I said, rather boldly, "Perhaps I'd be more careful, if you'd actually told me about my father coming here."

"I've told you from day one his men would be around."

"You kept me in the dark."

Tommy's jaw clenched. "Of all the things I have done, I've not lied to you."

"Bullshit."

Tommy sighed. "How much of this do you think I can take? I've extended to you a chance. I'm not often so kind. I've let you in. To the family, the business. I've taken you to races. I've organised work for you." Tommy pushed himself to his feet. "What more should I be doing, eh? You tell me that, Kimber."

I closed my eyes. Every excuse I'd made to distance myself from this man seemed to be crumbling to nothing. "John thinks I've been too hard on you."

"I expect he does. And speaking of, why isn't John getting this treatment? Or Arthur? You've no issues with either of them, carrying on like you've been friends since the day you were born."

"You know the difference." I swallowed.

He approached closer. "No. I don't."

"Fuck you," I said quietly. "Fuck you, Thomas Shelby, if you're going to make me say it."

"I couldn't make you do anything." His voice lowered. "You've made that perfectly clear."

I squirmed for a moment. He could see it. His gaze switched, hints of victory flashing through his eyes.

"Sit down," I said. I looked at the floor. "You shouldn't even be upstairs. You're bleeding again."

"Comes with the profession, I'm afraid."

But he stayed rooted to the spot. I made the mistake of looking up at him again in frustration.

"Why will you never just do as I tell you?" I asked.

"Because nobody tells me what to do, Kimber." He lifted a hand to my throat, tracing over a long graze I'd suffered in the shoot-out. "But you come awfully close."

And just like that, at his touch, my anger dissipated. I needed to be away from him, I realised, if I were to have any hope of keeping a clear head.

"Oh no, sweetheart," he murmured, reading my thoughts as he scanned my face. "You're not going anywhere."