𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐛𝐲.

this ain't easy it's not meant to be, every story has it's scars

(betrayal)
4|deep wounds and dead bodies

Thomas woke the next day, his head banging from a headache. His eyes try to focus on the dark figure that was situated comfortably on a chair in front of his bed, his hands hastily trying to find his gun.

"I took your fuckin' gun away, don't want you shooting yourself while you sleep," said Polly's voice causing him to roll his eyes deep into his skull due to her antics and flopped back down on the bed sluggishly placing one arm over his eyes, therefore, exposing his pale torso.

"what have I done to warrant your presence?" stated Tommy, as he readied himself for the berating that he knew, was soon to come.

" heard you were knocked out cold at the Garrison, I was just wondering if during the war if you lost some brain cells" Polly stated.
The cold air prickled all over Tommy's body as the covers further slipped off his body as he sat up.

"where'd you hear that from?" Tommy said his fingers itching to find his cigarettes

" from the pretty barmaid that you are yet to meet."

Tommy froze at the information, the barmaid.

" When did we hire a barmaid?" Tommy asks his question sounding harsher than what he intended but it was too late to apologise now.

" Maybe if you stopped mopping for one fucking second, you'll notice there's a pretty face in the garrison you fuck." Polly was increasingly getting annoyed with the boy. Rolling the cigarette butt in between her fingers and rolled her eyes as she stood up, knowing there was no point furthering this conversation.

Left alone in his room Tommy ran his fingers through his already messy hair and trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

"Fuck."

-----

Parisa sat on the window sill of their, a cigarette in between the junction of, as she enjoyed the cold air surrounding her only in her nightgown. Watching the clouds move idly in the sky.

" I guess Polly told you I live here" Parisa stated without looking behind her.

"Ho-"
"Everyone in a one-mile radius heard you coming up here," Parisa said. Taking a deeper drag, savouring it. "plus men are never quiet no matter what they do."

There was a pregnant silence, uncertainty and loss hung thickly in the air mixed in with the grey cloud of smoke permeating the air. There was too much animosity.

"Why didn't you come to see me?"

There it was the loaded question. The question she dreaded.

"You weren't a priority," She nonchalantly stated not turning around to see if face contorts into confusion and a hint of pain. "There are bigger things in this world and my dear Thomas your not one of them no matter how much you try to make yourself be."

Tommy had no words. He never did when it came to her.

"What are you doing in Birmingham then!?" Tommy bellowed in order to try and gain control over the direction of this conversation. Not that he was going to get any leeway.

"And since when do I answer to you," Parisa said matching his tone level. " Was it because I got on my knees and sucked your cock and screamed how good you fucked me."

At that, the monologue ended.

" Or was it that I held your hand through the nights you had your nightmares or was it when you could disregard me one minute and the next and would be screaming my name when you needed me to patch you up, to be your shield to protect you from the bad men, or was I your servant who at a click of your fingers was there ready to order about."

Tears brimmed in his eyes as he stared into her own. All those nights dreaming or staying awake thinking of those eyes. Fuck, he was a screw-up. Chests moving at increased rates. There was tension but it was difficult to differentiate exactly what type of tension it was. sexual? hate? Fear?

Tommy feeling lost, left her presence with haste, knowing if he stayed there any longer his resolve would crumble, instantly being slapped in the face with the cold air, his cheeks instantly tinged pink, hands shaking he reached for his inside pocket and fumbled out a cigarette stick and lit up the end. Inhaling the nicotine until he was sure his lungs felt like a factory, he exhaled ignoring the small sting of tears in the corner of his eyes as he used every force known to man not to run back into her house and beg for her forgiveness so instead, he focused on how many cobblestones that laid idly around as he disappeared behind the foggy air of small heath.

......

Parisa hated the look her gave her. That same look that he gave her before confessing his undying love for. What a bunch of shit! Why couldn't she listen to her mother, chuckling to herself in nostalgia she could hear what her mother would probably say, " this is what you get for giving a white man room in a place he does not belong."

She sat on top her mused bed, as a cigarette idly hung from her fingers inches away from her face as she watched the thick smoke swirl around her billowing from her lips. Did Tommy really think she was that stupid?

......

Dead bodies laid strewn around her while she stood in the middle, almost like a demonic ceremony and inhaled the already half-smoked cigar that she had taken off the body of the now-dead kingpin. Her eyes scanned the room gun at hand coated in blood. She felt better now, calmer, well as calm as a storm can be.

" no one fucks with me" Parisa growled out as she noticed a moving body that was trying to disappear behind the staircase. " now little boy where are you going, I'm not done."

Her blood coated heels sounded through the silent room as she kicked away bodies that stood in her way. "when you meet our maker say hello for me will you."

And with that blood pooled around his head, the end of a bloodline.

A/N - don't know whats happening here