RESURRECTION, t. shelby.

chapter four.

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿:          bloodsport.

          𝗱𝗶𝗮𝗻𝗮'𝘀 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗯𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲          cage of her ribs. it drums so deeply in her chest that her pulse seems to tear out of her skin. she can hear the distinct lull of the gunman's irish accent as he breathes against her neck; an ira member no doubt. the cold barrel of the gun sends chills down her spine as he gently orders her to step deeper into the desolate alleyway behind them. she complies with no hesitation.

the alleyway is narrow and swollen with steam escaping the vents of the wash house next door. puddles of water stain diana's shoes and petticoats as the gunman draws her deeper into its recesses. she has no way of escaping. memories of the asylum intrude her thoughts, as does the haunting feeling of captivity. her body instinctively trembles at the trauma that gnaws at her insides.

     "if you tell me what you know, this gun won't shoot through you. understand?" diana heaves out a flurried breath before reluctantly nodding at his demand. "we know you're connected to the peaky blinders. sources of mine have seen you meeting with thomas shelby at the garrison in the late evening. now rumours of guns are being brought up. i hope you have the common sense to tell me why tommy would be concerned with stolen guns from the bsa factory?"

     "i don't know anything about that." diana stifles a shriek of pain as he pummels the gun barrel in between her shoulder blades which causes her to stumble forward. within a brief moment, the man grasps the neck of her blouse and wrenches her back up until he has her neck trapped within the nook of his right arm. he presses the barrel to her temple. "i swear to god, i don't fucking know."

     "if you don't tell me the truth now, I'll take you in for interrogation on behalf of the irish free state — and if that happens, you're going to wish i buried this bullet in you." his words leave his mouth with bitter fury as he presses the barrel in deeper.

     "my meeting with tommy had nothing to do with those guns. i have no affiliation with his family's business." diana speaks with urgency, her eyes peeling the alleyway for the slight opportunity for someone walking past. "it was strictly personal — i came back to small heath to rekindle our engagement. the ring around my neck was what he had given me that night at the garrison. if you don't believe me, he had our names engraved inside the band — you can check."

the gunman is still for a brief moment, digesting diana's words with suspicion. the severity of the gun pressed against her head doesn't cease as he refuses to remove his arm.

     "you expect me to believe that tommy wouldn't tell his own fiancee about his business?"

     "it's not a woman's place to know about such things." diana silently pleads for his grip to loosen as it presses relentlessly into her windpipe, causing her to splutter out a strained cough.

     "if that's the honest truth, then you won't have any trouble holding up your story during interrogation. it's hard to lie when your face is bloodied and swollen."

his grip around diana's neck thrusts her back as he begins to haul her deeper into the alleyway. her shoes drag along the uneven cobblestones as she twists and pushes her body against his grasp. she tries to muster a scream with his arm jammed against her throat, but a large plump hand presses her mouth shut. sweat covers her forehead as she desperately attempts to free herself, but her body is too small in frame to match his. fierce determination claws the inside of her stomach as anxiety pools her insides. she is not helpless. she knows there has to be a way for her to escape.