Kimber's Daughter - Tommy Shelby x Reader Fan Fic

Chapter 36

Two months passed by with little consequence.

I worked, reconciling accounts and entering expenses for the Shelby business. I learnt how the races worked, how to handle the business side of things, from wages to collecting bets.

Tommy continued to work, too.

It became a ritual. Polly and I drinking ourselves blind in the kitchen, working or talking, both of us swept up in the same anxiety that the brothers wouldn't make it home. But Tommy didn't suffer so much as another gunshot in all this time. And, as I sat in on the meetings (much to Tommy's annoyance) I learned that two more of my father's men had been killed.

I knew my father. I knew his retaliation was coming, and that it would be deadly. But Arthur and John laughed off my concerns. Into the early hours of the morning I held Tommy, wrapped up in his arms, and fear did not leave me. Fear that he would be killed in all this fighting.

He sighed and rolled onto his back. Half-awake, his fingers trailed patterns across my arm.

"Can't sleep?" He asked quietly.

"Something like that."

My eyes raked across the scar on his chest, freshly healed from where he'd been shot. His skin was warm against mine.

His voice stayed quiet as he asked, "will you marry me, Kimber?"

The room stayed silent for a moment, his question lingering on the air. "I thought we'd already decided that."

"Things didn't exactly go to plan," he murmured. He pressed his lips to my forehead. "I want to marry you, Kimber. And not just for the business. Not just to get Aunt Pol off my back, either."

I waited for him to say more. If I was honest with myself, I waited for him to say he loved me. I thought I could see it sometimes — in his gaze when I rode Shimmer, my newly named mare, around the arena, or when he threw John away from me by the scruff of his shirt when the younger Shelby got too flirtatious at the Garrison.

But the words didn't come. He looked at me expectantly. I tried to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach. He'd warned me about this, after all. The fact he felt anything for me at all beyond the facade was a miracle — so why was I so disappointed?

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"Nothing," I answered quickly. I placed my hands at his jaw and kissed him. "Of course I'll marry you."

His eyes lit up. "You had me worried for a second there," he murmured. "Thought I might have to convince you."

"Convince me how?"

"I have a few ideas." He ran his hands up my legs, and all my worries melted away.

I let out a gasp and smiled. But I had to stop him. There was something else I needed to say.

"I need to see my father. I need to tell him. It just might end all this mess between us."

Tommy's voice was sharp. "Not a chance."

"You can't keep me from him forever," I pointed out.

"And if he hurts you? If he gets violent?"

"He won't," I said, trying to sound firmer than I felt. I grasped Tommy's shirt gently, the crisp cotton folding beneath my fingers. "And don't you think your Mrs Shelby needs to be able to defend herself?"

It was enough to soften him, just a little. "My Mrs Shelby has already proven herself in that regard," he answered slowly.

"And she'll continue to do so." 

His lips met mine in a clash of passion. Heat rose through me as he grasped me in his arms, tighter than he ever had before. It was as though any inch of space between us was too much. He kissed me the way dry leaves kiss an Autumn morning, the way gamblers kiss their success.

He kissed me like he loved me, and it was all I needed.

***

Ada Shelby styled my hair into finger waves for the wedding.

"Keep still," she murmured as she worked.

I stared at my face in the mirror. I could barely recognise myself with the shimmer around my eyes, the deep lipstick. Bundles of nerves cramped in my stomach. I thought I might be sick.

"Ada, I need to step outside for a moment," I whispered.

"Are you okay?" She lowered her voice. "Is it nerves?"

"Yes," I lied. "I'll be right back."

I hurried from the marquee, lifting my ivory dress so as not to drag across the ground. The Shelby's had spared no expense in organising the day — small lanterns lit up the pathways between tents, and the Birmingham weather was uncharacteristically calm. I ducked into a tent where guests were gathering, drinking wine, and slipped a long, black coat from the coat stand. I wrapped it around me, covering my dress as best I could.

My feet hurried along the path. It was almost ten, and I didn't want to be late.

"Kimber!" Shit. Shit shit shit.

John ducked his head out of the tent in front of me. I froze in place, then began to walk again. I needed to get away, I didn't have time for this.

"I'll be right back, John," I said in a stage whisper, hurrying past him.

"Where are you going?" He called.

"I won't be long," I said as loudly as I dared. The last thing I needed was another Shelby coming to question me.

Mercifully John did not follow as I half-jogged, no easy feat in the pearl-encrusted heels I was wearing. I made it through the wedding grounds and onto the outskirts of the city streets with no further troubles. But I could not yet breathe easy. I rounded the corner and the clock struck the hour.

This was it. I felt for the cool steel in the concealed pocket of my wedding dress. The gun I'd known to bring, and hoped I wouldn't have to use.

A small sob escaped my throat as I reached the street corner. My father turned around, suit and bowler hat distinguishable from the rest. A strange wave of relief rushed through me — relief, anger, hatred, calm. All at once.

"You're here," he said, almost in disbelief. "Are you alright? Have they hurt you? I'll get Crabby down at once."

"No!" Panic swept through me. "None-none of the Birmingham Boys, remember? You promised."

He stared at me for a moment. Then he sized me up and down. A quiet simmer of anger settled across his face.

"Tell me. Why are you in a wedding dress?"

I wrapped the coat tighter around my waist. "There's something you need to know."

Disgust ran through his eyes, though his voice stayed soft. "Don't tell me you're that stupid."

A gun cocked beside us. "Actually, I'm afraid she is."