METHOD OF BEDLAM ━ 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐛𝐲 ²

𝐯. 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ; she's no traitor

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v. twenty-eight: ❝  she's no traitor ❞

𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠: into the red - james blake

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Somewhere in Birmingham

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In a fit of anger, Thomas Shelby stormed into the church, where Campbell patiently awaited. The atmosphere inside was tense as Thomas confronted him.

"We had a deal. Hey!" Thomas shouted, his voice echoing through the sacred space. "We had a fucking deal."

Campbell, seemingly unfazed by Thomas' outburst, responded calmly, "I would thank you to moderate your language in a place of worship."

Ignoring the plea for decorum, Thomas forcefully snatched the newspaper Campbell was reading and threw it to the ground. Leaning on a pew, frustration etched on his face, he repeated, "We had a fucking deal."

"Mr. Shelby, if you've perused the papers, you may have noticed the Home Secretary finding himself in a bit of a fuss over certain moral quandaries—prostitution, protection, racketeering, drinking, cocaine, and, of course, gambling," Campbell observed with a detached demeanor as Thomas seethed with anger, pacing restlessly. "And he's demanded results."

Thomas points accusatorily at him. "You offered me protection. You promised me protection."

"Well, no, you see, it was Mr. Churchill who made you that promise. And the Home Secretary outranks him, so..." Campbell replied, his tone betraying a calculated nonchalance. "And I can hardly be blamed if your demented brother and that Doe man decide to go on some sort of blood orgy during dinner."

In a burst of frustration, Thomas Shelby sharply turned to Campbell, pointing a snappish digit as he unleashed his anger. "Do not fucking lie to me. Do not sit here in your fucking church and lie to me!"

Leaning intensely on the pew, Thomas stared at Campbell, his breath accentuating the fury in his eyes.

"You will need to contain your emotions or this meeting is at an end." Campbell calmly asserted.

Thomas continued to glare at him, a maelstrom of thoughts swirling in his mind about how to retaliate. Despite the seething anger, he managed to collect himself. Stepping back from the pew, he put some distance between himself and Campbell.

"Good," acknowledged Campbell. "That's better."

Thomas, now visibly calmer, rested against the pew on the right.

"So..." Campbell began, a hint of satisfaction in his tone. "Let us review the new situation. I have your brother and Miss James' cousin in a prison cell, charged with the murder of Billy Kitchen. The case against them is strong. And I have no doubt that their destiny is to hang."