Hi everyone. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this, and please let me know what you think! I think what I'm going to do at the start of each chapter is make a small playlist of the songs I mention within the chapter. The next couple chapters are in the works, and I've found that putting in the song titles or explaining them makes my writing choppy and doesn't really work. Once again, thank you for reading xx

Playlist for "Introduction"

Red Right Hand (cover) - PJ Harvey

You and Whose Army? - Radiohead

Grace Burgess mindlessly played with the Cartier bracelets on her wrist, looking out at dark forest flying by as Thomas sped down the back road home.

"Please slow down, babe." She murmured, tracing patterns on his hand that was gripping the Maserati's stick-shift.

Tommy said nothing, staring ahead with steel in the eyes she loved, the quiet PJ Harvey song the only noise above the hum of speeding tires. A song that was a part of his "deep thought" playlist, as Grace had entitled it, much to Tommy's disgruntled amusement. But regardless of his thoughts, the worry in her voice made him ease off the gas pedal slightly.

Taking her hand, Tommy kissed it three times, as usual, before placing it on her black-denim-clad-thigh, his rough palm remaining overtop of it. Out of the corner of her eyes, Grace saw his jaw clench off and on as he considered the thoughts racing through his mind. Always analyzing. She would inquire later. Knowing when to leave Thomas alone and when to soothe him was a skill she had sharpened to almost-perfection. Grace's phone buzzed and she glanced down at it.

ADA: On a scale of 1 to 10 how grumpy is he?

GRACE: 7 and rising.

ADA: Oh, super. We'll be at the house in 15 for family meeting. Do you fucks want anything from the store?

GRACE: Cigarettes. Tell Michael not to forget the files or I'll slash his tires.

Today had been stressful. The Derby was in five days, almost four now, and Shelby Brothers Limited was insane with work. Michael and Grace were swamped with the various accounts, John and Arthur were swamped with heading the bets, and Tommy was swamped with business. Some of which Grace knew about. Some of which she didn't.

Shelby Brothers Limited had been 100% legal for a year now, but they wouldn't be safe from the legal system for a least another two years, until their previous activity was legally irrelevant. Illegal money was still present on account sheets, and they had to be careful. This was the first year that business from the Derby was legal and could be handled accordingly. It was new territory for them all. But Grace was grateful. It was nothing compared to the stress that the family used to be under. Tommy especially. As she entwined her fingers in his, Grace smiled softly out the tinted car window as she remembered how they used to share one blanket on a cold floor, back when Tommy was on the run. Almost 6 years ago now. A safe house with no running water, for almost 8 months, absolutely nothing to do but keep each other company and wait for good news. They'd almost killed each other. Now they had their own (seven bedroom) house with a nearly-kilometer-long driveway, six cars, ten racehorses, and more material possessions than they could count. But, ironically, none of it mattered. They loved each other all the same. They would have slept in a hut for all they cared, as long as they slept next to each other, after everything they'd been through.

Thomas pulled into their driveway entrance and punched in the code at the gate, remaining ever silent. Grace inhaled his scent as the open window blew it back towards her. Cologne, shaving soap, whiskey, a slight touch of tobacco. They'd technically "quit" smoking, agreeing to only smoke if they split the cigarette together. They indulged more often than they had planned on, but nonetheless they still shared every one. The scent of it on him intoxicated her, even though there was nothing but a hint of it now.

The gate eased open, the iron "S" for Shelby splitting down the middle to make way for their Maserati. Opening her mouth, Grace almost began to ask him about the family meeting that was swiftly approaching, but decided better of it. The peripheral of her blue eye noted Tommy's raised eyebrow as his blue's peered at her as well, sensing her borderline inquiry. They knew each other too well. Grace rolled her eyes as he flicked his attention to his vibrating phone.

"We've made it this far just to die via your texting-and-driving?" She teased him in her Irish lilting accent.

Snorting lightly, he ignored her, tossing his phone to his other hand as she attempted to snatch it from him in kidding protest.

"I'm not going to crash the car in the driveway, Gracie."

"You say, as you steer with your knee."

He chuckled at that, thankfully, sliding his other hand up and down her leg in an attempt to soothe her as they approached the house. They settled into an easy silence as her mind settled back on the Derby and her own work, as her future husband did the same. The sound system spilled soft Radiohead lyrics in and out of her ears as she looked upon their estate grounds, growing muddled with nightfall.

You and whose army?

You and your cronies

Come on, come on

Holy Roman Empire

Come on, if you think

Come on, if you think

You think you can take us all on?