Kimber's Daughter - Tommy Shelby x Reader Fan Fic

Chapter 47

"We're going to steal from the Peaky Blinders."

The men around me in the sitting room stayed silent. Their faces didn't light up with glee as I'd hoped. A couple even looked nervous.

"What's the matter?" I asked impatiently. "You've not got the London commute now I'm staying here in Birmingham, so it can't be that."

"Nothing," one of the Boys quickly said. "We're robbing the Blinders. Alright. Tell us the plan."

I narrowed my eyes. "If anyone here has a problem with the premise, speak up now."

The room stayed silent for a moment. "It's just... the Blinders are notorious for their retaliation, is all," squeaked another.

I stared at him for a moment. "We run over half the races in all of England. We've got more than sixty percent in the Grand fucking National next month. And you're scared of retaliation from a small pack of Birmingham wolves?"

"I suppose you'd know them better than the rest of us," scoffed another.

My nostrils flared. I pulled my pistol from the pocket of my trench coat and loaded a bullet into the chamber. I aimed it at his head.

"Get out," I said calmly. "And pray I don't decide to shoot you running across the grounds for sport."

I wondered how the man could be smart enough to scarper out the door as soon as I said the words, yet stupid enough to have insulted me in the first place. But I'd already made the threat. I needed to set an example.

I pushed open the shutters of the window. From there, I had a clear view of all the grounds, cars, and training grounds for the horses. I waited. Sure enough, the man came out of the house and sprinted towards the cars. I held out my pistol. I slowed my breathing. I took aim. Pulled the trigger.

I fucking missed.

But his squeal of terror was loud enough to carry across the grounds and through the window. Everyone else in the room heard. A couple of them even looked afraid. In a moment of acute self-awareness, I wondered if I was becoming unhinged. If my proximity to Tommy on the hunt had caused some sort of relapse in my mental state. I'd had to fight even harder ever since to keep myself under control, had to be more frightening, more powerful, because I was more afraid than ever of being weak.

Purely because of my reaction to the fox, I reasoned. Not because of Thomas himself.

Maybe I was lying.

But either way, I was taking back control.

"As I was saying," I continued. "The Peaky Blinders are in possession of a large shipment of guns. These guns," I stabbed at the inked parchment plans with my finger, "are the reason my father is in prison. They're the blackmail the Inspector held over the Blinders to lure my father. I think it's about time we claimed them for ourselves. Consider it compensation. Consider it a contribution to the legal fees. Consider it ours by fucking right."

Finally, the others seemed to be onboard. Only Michael still looked nervous, chewing on his lower lip, deep in thought.

"Where are the guns?" Someone asked.

"Currently in a warehouse a little south of Wythall. They're being moved at midnight, two nights from now. There'll be two men on guard. We are not to kill them, is that understood?" I glared at each man in turn, making my point clear. "If guns start firing, more Blinders will come, and we'll be surrounded before we know it. We're to trick them. Say we're having car trouble, ask for a hand, knock them unconscious. They'll be left looking completely incompetent, and the Blinders will be scratching their heads. People from out of town? Stupid or ignorant enough to fuck with the Shelbys? By the time they even consider we're involved, we'll have sold all the guns, and they'll have no trace of evidence." I paused. "Any questions?"

"Where are we going to store them?"

"In hay bales," I answered. "Split across our stables around the country."

One man blinked. "Isn't that a little... unprotected?"

"Our stables are manned by civilians day and night," I replied. "And they're the last place anyone would think to look. And I estimate we could sell the entirety of the guns within a week, between our vast array of contacts here and in New York. Michael?"

Michael sat upright at once, rubbing his palms against his knees. "Yeah," he agreed. "Yeah, maybe."

"Is there a problem with something from your end?" I asked. He was acting strange.

"Other than the usual risks, no," he said. "Paper trail for the fuel deduction, maybe. Though that could work in our favour as an alibi."

"I'm sure you'll think of something. Well, if that's all, I suggest you all prepare." I handed out parchment to the Boys in the room.

A ripple of excitement fluttered through me. I was finally going to hit Tommy where it hurt.