Kimber's Daughter - Tommy Shelby x Reader Fan Fic

Chapter 79

"Aunt Pol, Aunt Pol!" TJ and Warner shouted, as their favourite great-aunt entered the house.

I exhaled a sigh of relief. My shoulders loosened. But still the niggling feeling would not go away.

"I thought we were dropping them off," I said, kissing Polly on the cheek.

"I couldn't resist coming to get them a bit early," she replied, her eyes bright as she picked up Benedict. "Just had a feeling..." she stopped her train of thought with a quick shake of her head. "Thought I might take them to visit Ada. Freddie's away for work, and Karl's got energy to burn."

She laughed as the boys ran to get their pyjamas and things, already packed up into leather satchels by Tommy. I wrapped each boy in a close hug, squeezing them for a moment, eyes shut. I always worried when I said goodbye to them before doing something dangerous. I knew Tommy did, too, perhaps even more so than me.

"I'll take good care of them," Polly said gently. "You know that, don't you?"

I tried to laugh. "Of course I do, Pol. They'll have a great evening, I'm sure."

Tommy wrapped his arm around me as we said goodbye. "You boys behave," he warned them. "Ada doesn't have animals like we do, so don't go acting like them."

"I'll call you when we're all done," I told Polly.

She nodded, chewing on her lip. We all went out to the car, where the boys climbed eagerly into the back. Polly turned to us a couple of times, looking as though she might say something...

"Look after yourselves," she managed quietly.

"Always do, Pol," said Tommy.

He linked his fingers into mine as they drove away. I felt a pang of sadness as the car receded down the driveway, through the arches of trees and ferns. I clutched Tommy's hand until our knuckles turned white. We waited in silence.

"We'd better get ready," I said.

"Which guns shall we take?" He asked.

My lips twitched. "All of them."

We went back into the house. Tommy unlocked the padlocked door to his office. He glanced at me as he rifled through our stash of guns, from pistols to shotguns. The last rays of evening light filtered in through the windows, casting us in a golden glow. His eyes were alight, his jaw carved, his lips pale, and in that moment, I really fucking loved him. I loved him like breathing.

"Have I ever told you how beautiful you look, Mrs Shelby?" he murmured.

"Once or twice," I replied with a small smile.

He loaded bullets into the chambers of his pistols and walked across to me, wrapping me in his arms and holding me close. His lips met mine. "I love you," he told me quietly. "I would love you in every lifetime. Every body. Every circumstance."

I pushed my lips to his again, deepening the kiss where words failed me. He responded. His arms clutched me so tightly to him I lost track of where I ended and he began; he was tender and forceful, gentle and demanding, all at once. In all our years together, I didn't know if he'd ever kissed me in the way he did now. He was where I belonged. He was home. He was mine.

And then our house exploded.

We were thrown from our feet, slamming sideways as the entire building rocked and shook. For a moment, the only sound I could hear was a a deep, flatlining beep — completely deaf to anything else, even as I saw Tommy shouting, saw heavy wooden furniture falling all around us. Tommy grabbed me by the shoulders and threw me across the room, just in time to dodge the mahogany bookcase that came crashing down, and surely would have crushed me otherwise.

Half-seconds of volume cut through the ringing in my ears, growing in intensity. Thomas pulled me to my feet and we ran together for the stairs as blood streamed from his head where he'd been injured. Our staircase was half blown off, open to the elements below.

If we hadn't been upstairs, if the boys had still been home...

I still couldn't make out his shouts, but he jumped down and held his arms out for me to do the same. I pulled my pistol free and held it with both hands, ready to shoot on sight. I was trembling so badly, it would be a miracle if I even managed to pull the trigger.

We ran through the chaos of glass, brick and wood, heading for the fields beyond. If we could just make it to the stables, take shelter and recover...

A great force shoved me and I fell onto my front. An elbow jerked my throat back and I was caught in a headlock, choking, being crushed....

The pressure slipped away with a dull bang. Tommy was holding his pistol, eyes alight with a fury I'd never seen before. He kicked away the man's body and pulled me to my feet — my ears popped and I could hear again.

"The stables," I told him. "We need to..."

Without warning, Tommy wrenched his arm free and fired another shot behind us, then another, stepping protectively in front of me. More men were coming our way and firing their guns. I summoned all my fear and transmuted it to anger, allowing it to ripple through me, spreading through my arm and into the gun I held. I fired alongside my husband, and we dropped no less than five men.

But we still had no cover. We were still unprotected.

We ran for the stables. My feet pounded the grass, Tommy's hand in mine, and we were so fucking close, we were going to make it—

A sear of burning pain ripped through my thigh. I gasped, staggering, and dropped to the ground. I'd been shot.

"Fuck you," I hissed, twisting and pulling the trigger on the man who'd got me.

Tommy was murderous, thunderous. He tried to lift me, but more men were emerging on all sides, more shots were being fired. He had to return each one, and I did the same, but we were running low on bullets.

"Stop," I whispered to him. "Put your hands up and surrender." I did exactly that.

But Tommy clenched his jaw. "Not a chance."

"Save your bullets," I urged him. "Make them think we're out now."

He glared at me. But he knew I was speaking sense. Looking as though it physically pained him, he held his hands up in the air.

I groaned in agony as I clutched my gown to the bullet wound, applying all the pressure I could. There was no exit wound. It was still stuck in me. I think I preferred being stabbed.

And then he strode forward from the wreckage of our home. The piece of shit Sabini himself. I gripped Tommy's calf tightly. We both had to restrain ourselves. Wait until the other men were falsely relaxed.

By the look on my husband's face, I didn't think he'd last that long.