Anger burns hot in my chest as I approach the car, stopped in front of the tree, and my vision blurs at the edges, tinted red. I waste no time pausing or debating how to approach this. I only act.
I smash my elbow into the window of the driver's side, and two orderlies shriek, raising their hands in fear. Both are female — the driver older and meaner looking, with heavyset eyes and curled hair the colour of pepper, the passenger younger. Not much older than me.
"Where's Katie?" I ask, pressing the cap to the Orderly's throat.
She swallows, looking somehow even meaner than before. "In the boot."
My blood chills. "In the fucking what?"
"In the boot," she repeats, the same unimpressed voice.
"Katie?" I call out. I hear only a muffled yell in response, barely audible. I fix all my wrath upon the Orderly, my veins bubbling with fury. "Why can't she speak?"
"We had orders to keep her fully restrained," she replies calmly. But there's a wicked glint in her eye.
I slash the cap across her throat, slicing her wide open as she gapes and bleeds in a flood of dark red liquid. I storm across to the other side of the car, where the other one whimpers and pleads, her hands pressed together. I smash the window, squeeze her head in my grasp, and slice her open. It feels mechanical. I do not pity them as they bleed, choking, dying. I wipe their blood from my arms on the front of the Orderly's dress in disgust.
I run to the boot and unlatch it, sobs escaping me at the sight of poor Katie, bound in ropes with fabric gagging her. I untie her as quickly as I can, her bright blue eyes round with fear and sorrow, and she wraps her arms around me as soon as she is free, clinging to me as she begins to cry.
"You're okay," I tell her, holding her tight. "It's alright. You're safe." I pull back, examining her all over. Rings of purple bruises mark her ankles and wrists where she was tied up — she must have fought to free herself the whole way. "We're going to get you home. You never have to go back to that school again. Okay? Never."
"Am I in trouble?" She asks, her voice quiet and shaking, so unlike her.
"No," I tell her firmly. "Of course you're not. Come on, let's get you home."
***
Nobody is home when we arrive. The betting shop's closed.
"You two know how to use a telephone?" I ask William and George.
They both draw themselves up proudly, nodding.
"Call the Garrison first," I tell them. "Ask if your dad's there. Then try everyone we know. Aunt Ada, the Bakery, the stables. If you can't find your dad, get a hold of Aunt Pol, or Uncle Tommy or Arthur. We need them to get on top of the situation with the police."
They nod and race through the house to the office area, their footsteps clattering away across the wood. I take Katie upstairs and run the bath for her, pulling the washing tub and board free for her clothes as she lays in the water.
"I don't want to wear them again," she says quietly.
"Understandable," I tell her. "We'll burn them, shall we?"
She almost laughs, then nods her head. I grab a towel, and get ready to head downstairs and warm it for her in front of the fireplace, when I hear the front door click softly shut.
I freeze. Nobody speaks. The footsteps are not a dance of Polly's, nor the confident strides of Tommy's, or Arthur's stumbling. John would call out if it was him. Finn's still with Ada.
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March // John Shelby x Reader - Peaky Blinders
FanfictionThe girl working at the local bakery has a simple life. She just wants her father to come home from the war. But when John Shelby, member of the terrifying local gang, comes into her life, she realises it'll be anything but simple. Slow burn ish. Wi...