The Blinders have no idea what kind of powerfull person they have walking amongst them. Nicholas 'Nicky' is soon to be King of England. But is he able to keep his secret or will the Shelby's find out who he truely is?
(Nicholas's P.O.V.) I finally arrive in Small Heath and turn onto Watery Lane. Passing by the Garrison I notice the lights are on. Normally, the Garrison would be closed for a few hours now. So I was confused as to why I could see the light. Passing by the window I could see Tommy sitting by a table. I thought to myself for a second and let out a breath. I need some good company. So I park the car infront of the Garrison and get out. I walk into the pub and am met with a closed door. I rattle the door handle for a second before Grace opens the door. Suprise flashes over her face when she finds out it is me. "We are closed, Lieutenant" she tells me, not opening the door further that I could see Tommy. "I came here for a drink" I told her and pushed past her to walk into the building. But she put a hand against my chest, stopping me from continuing. "Sir we are closed" she began getting frustrated with me. I had no desire to argue with some barmaid, especially because I was not just some customer for this pub. Thankfully, Tommy agreed and ordered Grace to let me in. Reluctantly she stepped aside and let me in. I walk in and see a depressed looking Thomas Shelby. His hair was all wet and sticking to his face. He looks up at me and gives a greeting nod with emtpy looking eyes. I nod in return and walk to the back of the bar. I grab my favorite bottle of Scotch that the Garrison carries and pour myself a class before commenting "You look like shit, Shelby". Next to me I can see Grace freeze for a moment as she stops cleaning a glass. Nobody can insult Tommy Shelby without recieving serious consequences. But I see a faint smile appear onto Tommy's face. "you dont look flattering neither, LT" he remarks back. "Aint that the truth" I replied and walk from behind the bar to accompany Tommy by his table. "So what happened?" I asked him, gesturing to how he looked. I needed to get my mind of my own grief so getting him to talk would do the trick I thought to myself. "Always taking care of others before your own needs, aye, Nicky". "Comes with the job, Tommy" I replied leaning back in my chair. I notice he doesn't continue to tell me what got him into this state. Tommy grabs a cigarette and lights it to take a hit. Extending his opportunity of not having to talk about it.
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But Tommy Shelby knows all to well that I am a patient man. So avoiding the subject was nearly impossible. Noticing I wasn't going to leave anytime soon, he reluctantly explains. "I just put a bullet in his head" He answered broken. I raised an eyebrow. Tommy Shelby who killed more men than one can count on a hand, now got sad because he shot one more? But as I studied him in this broken down state. It suddenly clicked. "You shot the white stallion" I sighed figuring out who he had killed. "Was he lame?" Grace questioned trying to join the conversation. Again Tommy doesn't answer immediatly, still extending it out. I noticed he had furrowed his eyebrows and tenses slightly. Seemingly to be pissed Grace tried joining our conversation. But never the less all that, he still amswers. Tommy lifts his glass and swigs down the drink in one go. "He looked at me the wrong way" he coldly stated not turning to face Grace, "it's not a good idea to look at Tommy Shelby the wrong way". If I didn't know the Blinder personally, this statement would scare me to my core. Just like it had done to Grace who stood behind the bar. But I knew Tommy all to well. It was a cover up, as to not appear weak. "What a waste" I replied to which he agreed, "yeah, a waste is what it is". He sat back in his chair, making it creak slightly underneath his weight. Before letting out a sigh, giving in to the need to talk about the horse. "You know in France" he began, his voice breaking every so often, as he tried to control his breathing, "in France I got used to seeing men die, never go used to seeing horses die. They die badly" he admits while turning away from my gaze, then thinks for a moment. Yet never speaks his mind. Then he leans forward reaching for the pack of cigarettes. Holding out the packet for me to take one. Before striking a match on. I lean forward, accepting the light and take a deep breath in. The smoke scratching at the back of my throat like sandpaper. "And you?" Tommy interupts the quietness that fell around us. I look up to meet his eyes. Now I was the one extending the silence so I wouldn't talk about my father's death. I shook my head at him, as the effect of the Scotch kick into my system. Sighing through my nose, I move forward to place my elbows on the table infront of me. I ran my hands down my face, my fingers pressed into my eyes to stop myself from letting any more tears fall. Eventually I lower my hands to take a deep breath in. I reach for the bottle of Scotch and realize its almost empty. I curse myself at how quick I had drank the remaining alchol in this bottle. It wasn't full when I grabbed it, but it wasn't nearly as empty as one may think. So, I don't bother pouring it into the glass infront of me. I just drink the remaining liqour straight out the bottle. I hiss slightly at the burning sensation of the alchol. Before slamming down the empty bottle and sighed deeply before explaining. How my dad's memory was nearly gone. How he was utterly spent of energy that he barely could lift a hand. Untill he eventually breathed his last breath. Tommy looked at me with a wide-eyed expression. Clearly shocked at the news I had given him. It was something entirely different than the reason for his sadness. I see Grace's face go white with shock and a puzzling expression lingers on her face. I watch her for a second as she tries to figure something out. But what, I do not know. "Nick" Tommy brings me back from my focus on Grace. My eyes move from the blonde woman to the blue eyed man. "I-" he continued but I cutt him off "I don't need sympathie, Tommy. Got enough of that already" I tell him harsh and sit back in my chair. I ignore his gaze and look down to the ground. Yet I can feel his eyes burn holes into me, trying to figure out how to approach me or what to say. He made a mistake of going with the sympathy road again but now in a joking manner. "Tommy" I warned him as he rambled on with his joking sympathie. My fingers clench into a fist as I feel myself getting angrier with the second as he keeps pushing my buttons. Like a little kid who doesn't listen to the word no. Meamwhile Grace looks between us with a nervous look. Questioning if she should step in or not. "Let's go for a walk. Maybe that'll help you manage that anger of yours" he suggests, like he wasn't the one who was riling me up, and stands up. "I manage my anger just fine, Shelby" I snarl at him, "if not you would've already been found in such a deadly state that even Jack the Ripper would want to take notes for his murders". Tommy knows me well enough to not take my death threat personally himself, unlike the rest of the country, and just chuckled in responce. As we walked across the empty street of Small Heath. Tommy began comversing with me about random stuff. Which brought me at ease and relaxes. I could feel the anger leave my body. But then something happened, something that shouldn't be happening between us two. Shouldn't have happened, yet it did. Tommy had stopped to offer re-lighting my cigarette with his own, after mine had died because of the cold sharp wind. I leaned forward and he did to, shielding the cigarattes from the wind so that it would be easier to relight it. We where very close to each others faces, I was sure that he could hear my heartbeat as I did his. I let out a deep hot breath, which immediatly formed into a cloud upon hitting the cold air surrounding us. I could sense a form of excitement yet hesitation flow through me. And looking at Tommy, I think he was having the same dilemma. "We can't" I whispered to him, reminding him about what day and age we live in. A time that doesn't allow this need between the same genders. Tommy silently answered, telling me I was right. That he knew too. But, yet, even knowing it was frowned upon in this society, it didn't matter. In the next moment as our lips collided and entangled each other, I could sense the extent of our arousal forming rapidly. Tommy grabbed my face and brought me to an alleyway. As soon as we arrived in the darker area, he pushed me against the wall of a house and kissed me harder on my lips. He was more dominating in the kiss. In the moment I am able to breath, I see a figure quickly dissapear behind a broken wall. My mind wonders quickly who or what it was that dissapeared behind the wall. But got soon distracted by Tommy's attention again.
Author note: I have decided after a very long thinking proces. To make this book a story of:
The right person, wrong time. Aka the common dilemma that people face when they meet someone who seems to be a perfect match for them, but the circumstances are not favorable for a relationship.
Please be patient with me as I try and find a way to make this work. Criticism/tips are welcome aslong as it is helpfull and not harmfull.
