Preview: The previous explosion and bullets lead to new fears for Tommy. An unexpected visitor appears.

Chapter 10

He really needed the ringing to stop and his eyesight to sharpen. God this shit needed to stop. France was crap. This was crap. The tunnels….

"Tommy!"

His vision snapped into place, the ringing faded. As his senses fully returned he got his bearings. No France. No tunnels.

He was surrounded by kegs of beer. The stockroom of the Garrison. Arthur and Michael were shouting in his face.

Everything came back at once. The bullets, the explosion, the gunfight. He rolled to his side, and winced. His shoulder was on fire.

"Tommy, are you alright?" Arthur squatted by his side.

He managed to get out a grunt. "What happened?" He spat blood from his mouth. A throbbing ache grew from his jaw to his right temple.

"We heard the explosion Tommy. And then the bullets and we came. Found you on the floor."

He stitched together the last moments.

"Camilla. Where is Camilla?"

Arthur shook his head.

He swayed on his feet, Arthur supporting half his weight. Blood was everywhere. Stained his shirt, the floor, in his mouth. But he tasted something much worse than the copper bite. Fear.

"They have Camilla." He remembered her screaming. Men grabbing her, punching her. The image wiped away all the pain in his body. HIs gut clenched. He had pushed away from Arthur, leaning against the wall, and lighting a cigarette. He needed it to think through the panic that was ripping through his chest.

"Who were they?"

"You didn't see them?"

"No Tommy. We heard everything, and came running. When we got here you were the only one on the ground."

"Fuck."

"They got you in the shoulder. We need to take care of that Tommy."

"I'm fine."

"You are bleeding Tommy."

"We need find Camilla. Call the boys. Family meeting. Now."

He hobbled out of wreckage of the Garrison. His jaw set against the pain and the fear. Arthur had taken off to round up the family. They were to meet back at the betting shop.

A black car rumbled next to him. Alfie Solomon's car.

"Tommy!" The familiar Alfie Solomon's bellow.

He stopped walking. The car idled next to him.

"Something got you in the shoulder Tommy." Alfie leaned out of the car and pointed at the obvious blossoming red stain.

Alfie looked up and down the street and fidgeted with his hat.

"What is it Alfie."

"Small Heath… really it's a shit 'ole ain't it Tommy?"

He didn't have time to be heckled by Alfie Solomons today. He took a few steps, but Alfie rolled the car next to him, "I was driving out here Tommy, after seeing Camilla this morning. On my way, I saw two cars drive in. The men didn't look like Small Heath. Too clean."

That got his attention. "Tell me."

"Saw an emblem on the cars Tommy."

"What was it."

"A rose."

"Fuck."

Alfie studied Tommy. "Does this have something to do with your shoulder?"

"Sophia Dempsey. She has Camilla."

Alfie shifted in his seat, a hard glint entering his eye. "Where."

"I'm having my boys find out."

Alfie nodded, short and curt, "I will too."

He raised an eyebrow. Alfie never offered to help unless he wanted something in return. Alfie must've been his reaction, "This is for Camilla. Not for you Tommy. I will let you know what I find."

Without further explanation Alfie pulled off.

Tommy hobbled to the betting shop. Arthur had called the rest of the family and he relayed the events and everything he knew about Camilla. The boys had their orders and dispersed to find out where she was.

Three days passed. Three bloody days and not a word. No one could find Camilla. There wasn't enough whisky to ease his mind.

And then finally a call came. Alfie came through with the news. She was being held in a warehouse outside of town.

Before Alfie finished, Tommy had a map out and evaluating the strategy. By nightfall he had assembled his men and they surrounded the warehouse. There was just one light, but no sound came. He didn't like it. Too quiet. Either Camilla was dead...or worse.

They stormed the warehouse. Arthur shot three men, he took care of two and his boys took care of the rest.

Deep in the back of the warehouse he found Camilla. He had to prevent himself from smashing something when he saw her.

She was tied to a chair. Her dress covered in her blood. Her head rolled to the side, unconscious. Her eyes were swollen shut from punches. Her right arm lay at an unnatural angle.

Her hands were ripped and bloody. She had fought them. Hard. Good girl.

She moaned and whimpered when he approached. Her muscles spasmed as if trying to dodge more blows. One eye tried to flutter open.

"F-fuck o-of" Her voice hoarse, as she whispered it through bloody lips.

"It's me. Tommy. Camilly it's me Tommy."

There was a pause. Her brows pinched together.

"It's alright. No one will harm you. I'm going to get you home Camilla. You are safe."

"Tommy." He never felt so happy for someone to whisper his name. Her face relaxed and she passed out.

He untied her and carried her to the car. "Get Charlotte. Have her meet me at Arrow House." He said over his shoulder to Arthur.

Gently he set Camilla in the car. It was the longest drive of his life. He only started to breath deeper once he got her inside and settled into the bedroom.

Charlotte appeared shortly. He left the room as she undressed Camilla and checked her wounds.

Francis met him in the hallway, "Charlie is sleeping. Does the lady need anything?"

"Hot water."

"And you sir? Whisky?"

He nodded and reached for a cigarette and took a seat in the hallway, waiting for Charlotte's prognosis. He watched the grandfather clock in the hallway, each second, each minute passed with strain. Finally Charlotte appeared, and he was on his feet immediately.

"She will be alright. The worst is her arm and wrist. Sprained, but she'll heal."

"Nothing else?"

Charlotte shook her head, "Nothing else."

His chest eased. Francis appeared and he drank the whisky in two gulps.

"I've cleaned her wounds, but they will need to be redressed every few hours."

"I'll do it."

Charlotte nodded, "I'll be back tomorrow to check on her. I've set her arm and wrist. Let her rest Tommy. Don't go asking her all the questions yet. Give her some time"

Once Charlotte departed, Tommy entered Camilla's room. Her face looked better. Swollen, but the cleaned off. Her right arm was wrapped, and her hair brushed back from her face. She looked so tiny in the large bed. Bandaged like this, she looked helpless.

The floorboard creaked under his foot.

"Say one word about how I look and I will punch you in the fucking face Thomas Shelby."

So much for helpless.

Her voice was hoarse, her words were thick, but she still had bite. He smiled.

"Should've told them to finish you off then." But his voice was tender. He knelt by her side and rubbed his knuckle gently across her cheek. She blinked with her one open eye and tried to smile.

"It's good to see you Tommy."

"It's good to see you too Camilla."

He wanted to ask her questions so he could go and shoot the rest of the people that did this to her. But he heeded Charlotte's words. Now was not the time.

"I was going mad the past three days until I found you."

She looked at him with warmth with her one eye. "You found me."

"Always."

"It was Sophia."

"I know."

"It isn't over with her."

"I know."

She licked her lips. "Kiss me Tommy."

"You are hurt."

"Kiss me. Please. When they had me in that warehouse...they hit me over and over again. They threatened me. They…" her voice cracked. "I thought of you when they were hitting me. I thought of you…"

He kissed her.

She didn't flinch.

Salt and blood lingered on his lips. With her good hand, she gripped the lapel of his vest.

He leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes locking with hers. "I'm here Camilla. Rest."

He sat by her side until she fell asleep. She twitched in her dreams, moaning, fighting off invisible attackers. His hands clenched watching her.

As the night drew on, he made his way to his study. He leaned over his desk, arms spread across its surface, weighing his options, formulating a plan. Close to midnight Francis appeared in his study.

"Ms. Polly Grey is here Mr. Shelby. And she has a guest."

Polly appeared in the doorway. A man about his height stood behind her. Dirty blonde hair, light green eyes, sharp features.

There was a stern look on Polly's face. He looked from Polly to the man.

"What's going on Pol?"

"There's someone you need to meet."

The light haired man stepped into the study with confidence, sizing up the room and him in minutes. He reached forward a hand, "My name is Richard Dempsey. I am Camilla's brother."