A/N: This is one of the rougher chapters (kind of). Just a heads up.

She hadn't expected to ever see him there. He came with Arthur, who seemed cheerier than usual. The older Shelby found her quite easy, instantly becoming more interested in her than his son. Rose could only think of one person as he patted Arthur's back and suggested he go wait in the private room. Him. He gave her that same stare that night; the terrible awful she could never erase. She shuddered, but continued her work.

He slapped money onto the bar, "Two pints of your best, please."

"Yes, sir," she said. She poured them from the tap and then passed them to him, taking his money. "Here you go, Mr. Shelby."

"Thank you, love," he replied. He then took hold of her wrist before she left, that glint in his eyes. "How much?" he asked.

"I'm sorry, sir?"

"How much for an hour or two? I heard you got your own little flat up there," he said, "So how much?"

"I'm not that kind of woman," she said, slipping her wrist from his grasp.

"Every girl's got a price," he threw down a stack of bills. "Girl's gotta eat, right? It would only be an hour."

"I already told you," she said, "I'm not a whore."

"Are you exclusively for my son then?"

"You have your beer, Mr. Shelby," she told him, "Arthur's waiting for you."

He sighed heavily, taking his money and stuffing it into his jacket, "If that's how you want to play it, darling. I like a good challenge." Arthur Sr. walked away from the bar, smirking smugly.

He made her sick. His cologne was thick; his smile made her shiver and her skin crawled looking at him. She couldn't believe the gull of him. What kind of man comes on to his son's girl that way? Harry came to her side, "You alright?"

"I'm fine," she said, "Just another touchy one."

"I'll stay with you tonight after closing," he said. "He might come back."

"I don't think so. Tommy will be here."

"I'm staying anyways," he said.

"Alright, Harry."

Closing time came and so did Tommy. He walked in as the last of the stragglers stumbled on home. She left a glass and a bottle for him, letting him pour it for himself as she began picking up mugs around the room. He didn't seem as upset as before, but she knew she'd still have to choose her words carefully.

"Your father seems like a real gentleman," she said, grabbing some mugs and bringing them to the bar.

Tommy scoffed, lighting a cigarette, "Oh, he is. He was a thieving whore-monger who walked out on us ten years ago when we needed him. He's a selfish bastard."

"Arthur seems glad he's here," she said, "They were in the private room for a while before they left for the fighting rings, I think. He seems to like him."

"'Like' is putting it lightly," he poured himself a whiskey and drank it in one go. "Arthur worshipped him when we were kids. It didn't matter how terrible he became or what he did. Arthur always made an excuse and claimed he'd change. I never believed it for a moment. I don't want you anywhere near him; he drags trouble around with him."

"I have no intentions of ever being around him," she picked up more bottles and glasses and set them on the bar before taking out a rag. "I don't think he can stay away from me though. Ugh, you should have seen him. He came in here throwing money at me like I'm some kind of prostitute. He sickens me."

"Is that why Harry's in the back?" he asked.

"He insisted on staying," she said, "So I let him."

"Good. My dad's never taken 'no' for an answer."

"That's a shame because I like saying 'no' a lot," she said, wiping down one of the tables.

Tommy snorted, taking a seat at one of the cleaner tables with his bottle and glass. "Just be careful, Rosie."

She looked over at him, "Why? Are you worried?"

"Of course I am," he said. He smoked his cigarette, and then said, "What was it you wanted to tell me?"

She took a seat at the table, wringing the rag in her hands nervously. "After you left this afternoon, I got to thinking about something."

"Which is?"

"Well, you know how Kimber ran the side-betting at the racetracks? He had control over all the pitches before you came along?" Tommy nodded, and she continued, "But then you said Richard is the one who actually owns the race track. He's certainly much richer than Kimber from owning such a large, notable race track, right? I mean, he probably makes hundreds on one day."

"Where are you going with this?"

"We could take Richard and Kimber at the same time."

"No, no, we can't Rose," he said. "We don't have the strength or the numbers even with the Lee family. He's too well connected. If I took him out, the police would have us hanged."

"And that's his weakness, isn't it? All the people he's connected to are connected through his children," she said. "His son is a chief inspector and his other son keeps contacts with global clients. His third son is an archaeologist. Charlotte was married to a member of parliament before he died, so she most likely still has friends there, and Prudence probably has her own contacts being on all those charity boards. This man owns a steel mill, a textile factory, a race track, and a shipping business. He has friends on government and business boards."

"Your point?"

"His children hate him."

"What makes you say that?"

"I was looking through some of my mum's letters," she pulled out a wrinkled diary page, smoothing it out on the table. "I think she ripped it out of a journal. At first I thought it was some free form poem, but when I looked at it more closely, it was a diary entry." She handed him the page, "It says that my mother wanted to be a poet, and Charlotte wanted to be a singer. Nigel wasn't very fond of being his father's lap dog; Peter was apparently the black sheep in the family, which explains why he traveled so far away, and Alan hated how Richard's always pushed him so hard."

"You got all this from a single piece of paper?" he asked, unconvinced.

"You weren't paying attention at Cheltenham were you?" When he looked at her bemused, she explained, "Richard came in here today, trying to make some sort of half assed peace with me by giving me a baby book they just happened to have lying around. He told me that if I'd lived with them, he would've given me away to some rich person. He mentioned Kimber, and how he tried getting Charlotte paired up with him but she didn't take the bait."

"That's why she kept leaving the table."

"Exactly," she said, "Matching her up with Kimber was the whole reason they were even there. She only danced with Kimber to appease Richard."

"So you think that because they hate their father, they'd join you in killing him?" When he said it that way, her plan didn't sound so great after all.

"N-no," she said. "They won't have to kill him or have any part in it. They could give us a push in the right direction."

"And how will they do that?"

"When you move in on him, the police will most likely show up. Alan can hold them back," she said. "Nigel can probably convince some of the men to turn on Richard during the fighting. He's the leader of the gang now that Richard's become so legitimate. They could really help."

"Or they can tip off Richard to our plans," he said. He shook his head, "No, no, Rosie. That's too risky; too many things could go wrong."

"But, Tommy, it's a solid idea, isn't it? Isn't it at least worth looking into?"

"I've already thought about my own plans for Black Star," he said. "We attack Kimber. Richard will get his turn, but we start off with Kimber."

"What makes you think Richard won't join the fray?"

"Because he's gone soft," Tommy said. "He's an old man who's running on limited time. He wouldn't risk his men. He relies on them too much. He relies on Nigel too much."

"Would you at least consider-"

"-Rosie," he said, "There's some things you don't know about and you shouldn't. Please, stay here. Stay safe. Do what I ask of you just this once."

Defeated, she nodded. Perhaps her plan wasn't as good as she thought. Rose stood from the table and continued cleaning. He followed. His arms came around her, pulling her to him. He kissed the crook of her neck and said, "I wouldn't be able to sleep if something happened to you."

Tommy let go of her and kissed her goodnight. His words made the humiliation fade only a smidge. She'd hoped he would like her idea or at least take a part of it, if anything. Rose finished cleaning up the bar. Harry closed the storage room door, telling her he was finally taking off for the night.

"If you need anything," he said, putting on his hat and coat, "I'm just down the street."

"I'll be fine, Harry. Please, go get some rest," she insisted.

He nodded, waving goodbye and locked the doors behind him. Rose felt exhausted. She untied her apron and trumped up the staircase. She'd wished Tommy hadn't completely shut down her idea. She supposed she could rethink things before bringing it up again. She might even go to Nigel or Alan herself and explain everything. She was sure Charlotte would hear her out. Maybe she'd talk to them for her. Unlocking the door, she saw the oil lantern by the bed and the fireplace already lit. She saw a jacket hanging off one of the dining chairs. She suddenly felt unsettled.

"What are you doing in here?" she asked Arthur Sr.

"I came here to get my two hours," he answered. "I can do a lot with you in two hours."

"I don't know how you got in here, but you're leaving now."

"I don't take orders from little girls like you," he said. "I answer to bigger men, and they told me I could do what I pleased with you." Arthur Sr. rose from his chair, lust in his eyes and a smirk on his face. Her stomach tied into little knots and she backed into the door.

"Who?"

"Nobody you should be concerned with." He trapped her between him and the door, arms on both sides. She nearly choked on his cologne. "Now I see why my son likes you so much. You're a sliver of a thing; easier to flip around."

"You're vile and obscene," she snapped, breaking out from his trap. "Get out or I'll make you get out."

He laughed heartily, "Oh, so you want to play games? I like games. How about we play cat-and-mouse, huh? You can be the little mouse and I'll be the cat who catches you." He unbuttoned his vest, tossing it aside.

Rose's heart beat a million times a minute. The tight, anxious feeling came back to her chest, and she thought she'd vomit from looking at him. She shook her head, looking around for an object to throw as he stalked her around the room. She felt on the kitchen counters, and found nothing. He had her cornered by the fireplace. Rose backed up against the end table, her hands gripping the edge. She ducked around him, but he caught her. Her back hit the bed and she immediately kicked and screamed. She hit his chest and clawed at his arms and face. "Wiggle all you want, little mouse," he said, "I won't bite you."

Rose inched up the bed, but he only followed. She cried. Hot tears fell down her cheeks and she huffed and puffed. Her hands searched and searched. Finally, one of them found something burning hot. She barely felt the burn as she smashed the oil lamp into the side of Arthur Sr's face, causing him to shriek as the oil fire scorched his cheek. He thrashed about the apartment, trying to pat away the fire and having no luck. Paralyzed, she watched him finally grab a handful of flour from the sack and throw it onto his face. She smelled smoke. She heard the crackle of fire. Rose looked at saw the lantern sitting beside the roaring fireplace. Flames licked up the bricks and broke the kindle with perfect ease. She scrambled off the bed as the flames lit the oil trail and bit into the bed sheets.

Arthur Sr. bolted for the door. Rose made to follow him, but he shut and locked it in her face. She pounded the door, kicking it at the bottom.

"Please! Let me out! Let me out!" she shouted.

"Sorry, darling! It's what they paid me for!"

She bashed on the door, even jiggling the knob open, but to no avail. She turned and faced her apartment. The bed and pillows were ablaze now, and the fire spread across the wooden floors, taking up anything it found. Smoke filled her lungs, and she coughed it back out. She ran to her dresser first, quickly taking up the frames and the papers in the drawer. She grabbed her copy of 'Peter Pan', and kept them close to her chest. Rose headed straight for the window. She unlocked the latch and forced it open with one hand. Fresh air blew into the room at once, but this only agitated the fire more.

"Someone help! Harry! Tommy!" she screamed. "Help me, please!"

Rose looked down. Her apartment was much higher than she'd anticipated. Regardless, Rose balanced herself on the window sill, frames and papers to her chest.

"No, Rosie! Rosie, don't jump! You'll get hurt!" Harry came running down the street, as did other people coming out their doors. "Someone fetch a ladder! Quick!"

"Harry!" she sobbed. She clutched onto the thin window sill, "Harry, I'm scared!"

"I know, love! Help's coming!"

Somebody came with a tall ladder, and a few men helped Harry put it against the wall. She heard the sirens of the fire brigade coming down the street; more people showed up, gasping and shouting in terror at the angry inferno. Harry climbed up the ladder right when she heard a crack behind her. He let out a hand, and she slipped off the window.

"I'll go down first," he said, "You come after."

She could only nod her head. The firemen began pulling out their hoses and other men telling people to step back from the fire. Rose watched Harry begin climbing back down. She carefully turned around on the step, and then descended the ladder. Her knees shook and her palms became sweaty. She tried catching her breath, but couldn't get a single lungful without smoke penetrating through. Suddenly, a blast roared out through the night and broke through the window in a bellow of flames. Rose felt the heat of the fire's new gas leak on her head, which made her climb down faster. She reached the bottom step, and fell into Harry's arms.

"You're alright, love," Harry said comfortingly. She sobbed, the cries ripping her throat. She let people see. She didn't care anymore. Fear rocked and trembled through her body. It all happened so quickly, she wasn't sure if it'd been real or not. "You're alright," he hushed her, patting her hair gently, "You're safe now, Rosie."

"Rose! Rose!" Polly cut through the crowd as the firemen hosed down the flames. "Jesus Christ, Rosie! Oh my God!" She hugged Rose once Harry released her. "Thank God you're alright! When I heard…I thought…But you're okay. You're okay now. Oh, you're okay. She's okay."

"Rose!"

"Rosie!"

"You alright there, love?"

"We came as fast as we could! I told John to drive as fast as that car could take us!"

"Are you okay, Rosie?!"

"Rose! Rose! Out of my fucking way! Rosie!"

The Shelbys came at her all at once. Esme hugged her tightly. John smothered her in cheek kisses and held her to his chest. Arthur nearly cried in relief, and Finn wouldn't let go of her waist. Tommy came last, pushing through his brothers as he clutched her. He buried his face in her hair; he wouldn't let go of her for anyone. He kissed her cheeks, her forehead, her nose, her lips, and her jaw. He whispered apologies, words of love, and how he should have known.

"I'm going to fucking kill him," he growled through his teeth. "I'm going to kill that selfish bastard."

"Tommy," Arthur came timidly, "You're nothing thinkin' straight. Let's take Rosie home with us-"

"-I'm fucking killing him, Arthur!" Tommy bellowed at him. "You're always fucking protecting him! Always making up excuses for him! Well find a fucking excuse for this, eh? Eh?!" He pushed Arthur, who-for once-did not fight back.

"Tommy!" Polly put an arm around Rose, "Stop making a scene and let's get Rose some water and fresh air."

Rose sniffled, trying to hold back a sob, "Tommy, please."

Tommy's rage settled. He saw her fear, and he shared it the same. He took off his coat and put it around her shoulders. Tommy kissed her again, stroking her cheeks and wiping her tears. "I'm sorry I wasn't here. I should have been here."

"Her pictures," she wept, "I saved her pictures and her poems. I-I-I couldn't leave them to burn. I-I cou-couldn't."

"I know, I know," he said, pressing his forehead to hers. "We'll find a place for them. I promise."

He kissed her again before leading her off to his car. On the way home, Rose thought of what happened before the fire. She hugged her sides, rocking slightly. She thought what he'd said to her. "Someone sent him there," she said when they stopped at the house.

"What?"

"Somebody sent him after me," she said. "They told him he could do what he liked with me, as long as he did what they asked of him. I don't know who he meant. He never told me."

"Rosie, we'll talk about it tomorrow. You need some rest."

"I never get any to begin with," she said. "How could I get any now?"

"Because I'm there."