Chapter 7

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"I've busted bones, broken stones, 

looked the devil in the eye."

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~ Harry's pov ~

Coming to, I realized I must have lost consciousness from the lack of oxygen I experienced. Raising my head, I looked around to see I had been brought to what seemed to be a derelict factory. 

Across the room from where I sat were two blinders with the iconic haircut, seated at a wooden table playing card—recognizing them from the night they had chased after me.

On the far wall was a single window, covered in newspaper, with tiny holes making beams of light shoot through the room, concluding it was the day. Although I couldn't see, the smell of smoke in the air and the constant clanging metal outside meant I wasn't far from the docks.

Shifting slightly in the chair, I noticed my hands were bound behind me with a rough, scratchy rope, digging into my skin as I moved. My movement brought the unwanted attention of the guards as they watched me squirm about in the hope that  they hadn't tied the knot correctly. 

"I'll go get the boss." One of the men spoke quietly to the other as he stood up from his cards, exiting the room. 

The younger blinder stood up, waltzing over to where I sat, his eyes burning holes in the back of my skull. 

"I best have the last of my fun," He mused sadistically as he began releasing punch after punch. Reopening the cuts on my face, I tried to not so much as grunt in a defiant response. He was unimportant with a chip on his shoulder, trying to prove himself.

My head hung low as his beating finally ceased and the sound of footsteps. 

"Leave us." A voice spoke out, laced with anger as he took in the state of my beaten body. The man's voice matched the one from last night, a voice belonging to none other than Mr. Thomas Shelby.

I raised my head as blood trickled out of my nose, meeting his icy blue stare. 

"That diary you stole held nothing but my poetry," cutting the silence with a smirk.

"My mind is littered with the smoke, boy, but do you think I'm stupid?" He spoke out from a few meters away. Breathing out a sigh, he moved closer, standing directly in front of me, trying to read my face.

"Who do you work for?" Shelby grunted out; his tone gave away his growing impatience.

I replied, spitting a mix of saliva and blood down at his shoes, alluding to the fact I wasn't going to snitch. My actions angered him, and he roughly grasped my chin. I was peering through my short, wet, clumped curls that hung in front of my eyes. He was pissed.

'You're going to tell me, or I'll find everyone who means something to you and kill them. Not just that, but they will be killed in front of you right here. Slowly and painfully," he seethed in a low tone.

His speech would haunt most, but it just caused me to let out a laugh with a smirk spreading across my bloody face. Maybe this confidence was because of the knowledge that I had no family I cared for or my fuzzy head from the multiple beatings.

He suddenly pushed my face to the side, causing my head to jolt and go back to hanging low as he stormed out the room, and 2 of his 'guard dogs' returned.


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A few hours passed, and Thomas returned, pulling a young boy into the room with him. It only took a second for me to realize that boy was the little street kid I had been fond of. Watching as Mr. Shelby took out his gun, turning the boy to look directly at me as he raised the gun to the kid's head. One hand is still holding onto the boy's arm.

I stared at him, not breaking eye contact with Thoms Shelby for even a second. The sound of Mr. Shelby turning off the saftey rang out in the hushed room, causing my stomach to drop, breaking eye contact.

"I don't even know this kid," I lied, trying to make my voice sound as convincing as possible.

"He's an innocent." I almost pleaded.

"Well, you won't mind if I shoot him then" His eye burned holes at mine as I glanced at the kid standing in front of me.

Thomas sighed as he steadied his stance, preparing to shoot the child. Finger on the trigger, ready to shoot.

"Wait." I breathed out, causing Mr. Shelby to lower the gun, looking at me expectingly.

"I work for no one," I lied, and within a split second, Thomas had the gun back up, aiming at the child's head.

"Lee!" I shouted out, worried he was going to go through with it.

"Which lee" He spat out, still aiming at the kid.

"I don't know his last name! Just Lee, Leeroy!"

"I'm not lying. That's the only name I know him by!" I pleaded. I couldn't let that innocent boy's blood be on my hands.

Thomas lowered the gun returning it to a holster inside his coat. A small, amused smile took over his face, causing me to look at him with confusion. 

He spun the kid round to face him, taking a shilling out of his pocket and handing it to the young boy, ruffling his hair. And then it dawned on me...

Thomas stared at me with an amused expression still lingering on his face: "You're not the only one who can bribe that kid' he stated, causing my jaw to clench.

Thomas Shelby had played me. 

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