Kimber's Daughter - Tommy Shelby x Reader Fan Fic

Chapter 73

Tw: violence, pregnancy loss 💔

It was satisfying to see the man who threatened to slash my ankles, handcuffed and on his knees, with a policeman's gun pointing at his head.

But it's not satisfying enough.

"This one's mine," I said.

Tommy rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. "Okay, princess."

The man spat blood. "Fucking bitch."

I saw Tommy's jaw clench. "Fuck him up, Mrs Shelby."

Tommy turned his attention to one of the other men, prepared to unleash his anger on him instead. The man trembled.

I twirled the blade of Arthur's knife between my fingers. A dull ache grew in my abdomen, but I ignored it.

"Achilles heel, you say?" I whispered to the man. He didn't tremble like the others, but he gulped. That was all it took to betray his fear.

"I don't like to draw out my killings," I said quietly. "Never actually used a knife before. Never tortured. Would be a shame if I fucked it up. Left you half-alive, organs spilling from your gut..."

He closed his eyes. That was all it took. He'd surrendered. A pity, I thought. It had been almost too easy. Rage spiked through me. I thought of John. I thought of Tommy, burnt and hurting.

And then I felt it. Blood trickling down my leg. I froze. Barely visible in the first light of morning, a streak of crimson. Tommy hadn't seen.

I knew what it meant.

Sabini's men had taken more than my flesh. Whether it happened while they took me unconscious, or while I was struggling to breathe in all the smoke, mine and Tommy's baby hadn't made it.

My chest seared with a mother's grief. A mother's rage.

"Tommy," I said quietly. "Hand me your gun."

He must have sensed the tone of my voice. He glanced at me, leaving the man in front of him half-alive and whimpering.

But whatever was in my face told him not to argue, not to ask. He slipped his pistol into my hand.

I aimed for the man's kneecaps.

"Argh!" He bellowed, howling like a wolf.

I kicked him in the face. His legs had exploded where his knees met the ground. He fell back. He'd never walk again. But I'd make sure he never breathed again.

I flew into a frenzy. I left him to suffer while I did the others in kind. Once their kneecaps were truly busted, I got to work with the knife. My stomach churned as I butchered them. And as their blood flowed, my own flowed heavier. It felt like a clamp around my pelvis now.

"Where the fuck is he?" Tommy growled into one of the men's ear. He held him by his throat, blade pressed in, drawing beads of blood. "Where's Sabini?"

"He's in London," the man choked out.

"And what the fuck does he want?"

The man whispered something. Tommy pressed the knife in deeper.

"He doesn't like to be humiliated," the man cried.

Tommy nodded slowly. "Oh, I bet he doesn't. Now, you're gonna go back to him. Crawl all the way to fucking London if you don't die first. And show him what happens if he touches my wife again."

My own man, the one I'd tortured the most in revenge, looked at me through bloodshot eyes. He was pleading. He wanted to die. And he would.

Soon enough.

I left him there, bleeding out onto the ground, unable to move. The pain seized every muscle in my gut and I collapsed against a tree. Another gush of blood.

Tommy rushed to me at once, circled his hands around me. "Where are you hurt?" He asked.

I couldn't look him in the eyes. I pressed my lips together, tears welling behind my eyelids.

He understood.