Hello everyone! As noted before, this is the seventh part of the second series of my Peaky Blinders FanFiction story "Ghosts of Our Past." To understand the main original character's origins, looks, and story line, please go back to the first chapter of this entire story, under the title "Ghosts of Our Past: A Dying Promise." All of the story is under this story line, so it will be easier for my previous readers to keep up with the updates. :)
Enjoy!
xxA
Part Seven:
It was late in the afternoon, as the sun began to illuminate the hospital room in Camden Town, London.
Alfie Solomons sat in the chair, resting just in front of Antonina's bed. He had not taken his eyes off of her, since he had walked into the room over an hour before.
Just the previous evening, his most trusted advisor, confidant, and friend had been attacked by those he had been at war against since the Great War.
He never thought they would go after her.
Women were supposed to be safe.
She was supposed to be safe.
And yet, here she lay unconscious.
She was one of the most beautiful woman that he knew, but now she was completely unrecognizable.
Her short hair was matted as dried clumps of blood stuck to her fringe from the now closed gash on her forehead.
Her delicate cheekbones were marred with the sight of deep purple bruises and stitches to the right cheek. A smaller bruise had formed under her eye.
Her lip was cut open and sewn back shut, her neck dotted with the outline of a man's hands.
Her hands were covered in self defense wounds, a deep purple bruise on the inside crease of her elbow had formed.
Eight men against one woman: she didn't have a chance.
Checking his pocket watch, he knew that he needed to leave to return to the bakeries. He had revenge to plan and a vendetta to execute: but he realized that the person he needed to consult lay in the hospital bed in front of him.
Deep shame filled Alfie Solomons.
He had failed Antonina, when she had needed him most. His men were not even there to save her, the Peaky Blinders had done what he had promised he would do all along.
Knowing that he needed to solidify an alliance with the Peaky Blinders, he knew that he needed to get in touch with the man who had likely also contributed to putting Antonina where she was now.
As he left Antonina's room, he began to take out his frustration on the nursing staff for not washing the blood out of Antonina's hair.
"What the fuck am I payin' you for an entire hospital room, if you cannot even manage to wash the blood out of her fuckin' 'air, aye? If this isn't fixed on the count of fuckin' now, there will be 'ell to pay."
As the nurses scrambled to Antonina's room, he lit a cigarette, nodding at the collection of men who were guarding Antonina's door.
The war had begun.
Alfie needed to move fast.
He had already lost this battle.
He wouldn't lose Antonina.
Just a few hours north of London, Tommy Shelby laid in a hospital bed in Small Heath.
Just the night before, a similar situation had come into play, only this time the actors were different. Sabini and his men had come to find him. They beat him within an inch of his life, before Inspector Campbell and his men prevented his murder.
Now as Thomas Shelby lay in the hospital bed, the man who had saved his life had come for a visit.
"Ready for a visitor, Mr. Shelby?"
"No."
The familiar Irish accent filled the air. Tommy tensed, not bothering to look at the man he had grown to hate the most in his life.
"I'm here on the King's orders. I'm afraid I must insist."
As the sound of the cane came closer, Tommy Shelby looked to see the Inspector.
"Ah, you paid extra for daylight. The racketeering business must be booming."
Thomas stayed silent, as the Inspector looked him over.
"Are you not going to thank me for saving your life?"
"Pass my cigarettes."
The Inspector looked to him, sighing. He grabbed Tommy's cigarettes, giving them to him as he spoke.
"Three nights ago, at the cooperative stables on Montague Street, there was a murder. A man named Duggan. The Oxfordshire constabulary found his body in a shallow grave."
Tommy looked at him, unamused.
"I need to piss."
"Nurse?" Tommy called out.
As he did, the Inspector pressed his cane into Tommy's injuries, before continuing, "I know it was you who carried out the murder of Mr. Duggan."
As he let go of Tommy's shoulder, Tommy lit a cigarette. He began to smoke, studying the Inspector. He began to speak, changing the subject.
"Oh, by the way Grace, she went to New York. A place called, uh, Poughkeepsie. She's married now."
"To a banker. He's rich. I am sure she's very happy now."
Tommy continued smoking, attempting to ignore the Inspector. The Inspector continued speaking anyways.
"You have been under my microscope for some weeks now. I have been observing every move you make. That is why I was on hand to save your life."
"I imagine being shot by a woman hurts the same as being shot by a man. Just a bit more shameful. You know, Mr. Campbell, when I got shot they have me a medal. Yeah. No medal for you, I bet."
"Speaking of women, Mr. Shelby, how is Miss Antonina Paltrowicz doing? I heard that Sabini's men did a nasty job on her last night."
Tommy's breath caught in his throat, as he narrowed his eyes at the Inspector.
Was he telling the truth?
What had happened to Antonina?
Smirking, the Inspector studied him and his reaction.
"Oh, you didn't know. This must be a first for Thomas Shelby. I heard that it wasn't an even fight. Eight to one. She took out two of the men, I'm told, but the poor woman had no chance."
Even though he didn't want to show weakness in front of the Inspector, panic began to consume Thomas Shelby.
It couldn't be true.
He had just gotten her back.
Sighing, the Inspector continued, finally taking pity on Tommy.
"As much as it would give me joy to say otherwise, she's alive, for now. Defenseless in a hospital bed, much like yourself. So listen to me very carefully, Mr. Shelby. Our reunion is part of a very carefully worked out plan, which has been in place for some time now."
Tommy narrowed his eyes at the Inspector.
"Every time you lean on that stick, I bet you see her face."
As the Inspector grabbed Tommy's cigarette, putting it out, he pressed on Tommy's chest with his hand. Tommy grimaced in pain.
Soon, he held Tommy by the throat.
"I don't think it was Grace who shot me, Mr. Shelby, but she won't admit to me that it wasn't her. So, if I were you and I wanted to keep that whore of yours in London safe, I'd listen to me very carefully. As a result of the information in my possession, I can charge you with murder at any time and provide two impeccable crown witnesses whose testimony will lead you directly to the gallows. I can send for Antonina at any time and deposit her on Sabini's doorstep to finish what they started. You are on my hook, Mr. Shelby. And from this moment forward, you belong to me."
As the Inspector released Tommy's throat, he began to walk away.
"So, get well quickly. I'll be in touch the moment I hear you can piss standing up. Then, I will send you your instructions."
As the Inspector left the room, Tommy's heart was racing.
Antonina was placed in danger, because of his actions. He had no idea how bad she got it, but knowing the numbers of the fight, he knew that it wasn't good.
They could come for her at any time.
He was supposed to be in the hospital another three weeks, but he couldn't wait.
It could be too late for her.
As he yelled for the nurse, he began to plan his next steps.
He would be going to London: even if it killed him.
He had to get to her.
He had to get her out of London.
Nearly four days later, Thomas Shelby found himself standing in front of Antonina's hospital bed, as she slept.
Prior to his entrance into her hospital room, he had been told by a member of the nursing staff that she had spent most of the time unconscious.
There was one particular bit of information that troubled him the most: there was one instance where she had woken up in a stupor, screaming that they had found her. She was crying for a man named Tommy. The nursing staff could not console her and they were forced to put her under the effects of a powerful medicine.
She had been asleep every since.
She had been crying out for him. She had been screaming that they found her.
And he wasn't there for her.
As he studied her, nothing could have prepared him for what was before him.
The sight of Antonina bruised and broken nearly cut him down where he stood.
Observing the collection of stitches, bruises, and other wounds she had sustained, he couldn't help feel tears come to his eyes.
"I'm sorry, Toni. I wasn't there to protect you."
As he went to touch her hand and hold it, the movement of a man behind him caused him to turn around and draw his weapon, ready to shoot.
"Forgive me for interruptin' your private moment, Mr. Shelby, but as they may 'ave told you, she ain't been wakin' up much."
As the man made his way over to Tommy, he lowered his weapon.
"Mr. Solomons."
As the two men shook hands, they studied one another. Alfie was the first one to withdraw his hand, passing Tommy to take the seat in the chair in front of Antonina's bed.
The move was no doubt a silent statement to Tommy and Tommy did not let it go unnoticed.
As he studied Alfie Solomons, he narrowed his eyes and his jaw tensed.
"Aye mate, I didn't know it was possible, but you look almost as bad as she does."
Tommy's rage began to grow to the point of it being unleashed, but he decided not to antagonize him in the moment.
Instead, Tommy took a seat in the hospital bed across from Antonina, making sure not to turn his back on her and Alfie.
The men studied each other further, before Alfie broke the silence yet again.
"While I am very impressed with your latest stunt with Sabini's club, you nearly cost me somethin' rather important and dear to me."
"I am not here to discuss business right now, Mr. Solomons. I intended to visit your bakeries tomorrow morning. I am here to see her."
Alfie snorted, before continuing.
"I'm not fuckin' talking about business, mate. I am talking about Tonya."
"Tonya?"
Alfie lit a cigarette, before clarified.
He smirked, shaking his head.
"Antonina."
Despite what Antonina had told him about their strictly professional relationship, Tommy could not help, but feel a pang of jealousy at the use of Alfie's nickname for Antonina. They were much closer than she let on.
Still, he tried to direct the conversation back to the woman he loved, devoid of Alfie's place in her life.
"How bad was it, Mr. Solomons?"
Alfie looked to Antonina and to the ground, before returning Tommy's gaze. Tommy lit a cigarette to prepare for the information that would come.
"Aye mate, it was pretty fuckin' bad. It was eight on one. She took out two of his men, before they overpowered her. She fought like hell. They took her in a car, tried to have their way with her. At least, that's what your men told me. Your men were the ones that saved her and stopped whatever foul things Sabini's men were tryin'. She's got a nasty concussion, likely some swelling on the brain. Broken ribs, cuts and bruising all over. She's been unconscious most of the time. Probably good for her. I 'ope she doesn't remember a fuckin' thing."
Tommy's jaw had tensed to the point that he felt blood from his previously healed wounds leach into his mouth.
His heart raced at the information and his stomach fell to the floor.
It was worse than he expected.
She had been through hell and back, because of him.
She couldn't stay here.
"I've come to take her home, Mr. Solomons. Until the danger passes and the war is won."
Alfie turned his head, as if Tommy had lost his mind.
"Forgive me, Mr. Shelbu, but did I just hear you say that you're takin' one of my men home to your fuckin' gypsy camp?"
Tommy stubbed out his cigarette, leaning forward.
"Antonina is a woman, Mr. Solomons. A woman who was kidnapped and assaulted under your protection-"
Interrupting him, Alfie's voice boomed throughout the hospital room, as he began to lose patience with Tommy.
"I am gonna stop you right there, mate. You think that you can come into my city, my fuckin' city, and take her away like that? Like some knight in fuckin' shinin' armor? Let me remind you that she wouldn't have been in this fuckin' hospital bed, if it weren't for you. Don't you fuckin' forget, Mr. Shelby, that this is also your fault."
"Maybe that is right, Mr. Solomons. Be that as it may. But let me ask you this, where the fuck were you while Sabini's men took her? It was my men that saved her. And it will be my men that will protect her."
Growing tired of Tommy's insulting tone, Alfie Solomons drew his gun on Thomas Shelby, ready to permanently wipe the sneer off his face forever. Tommy anticipated his move, pulling his own revolver at the exact same moment.
As the atmosphere turned tense, Tommy's nose began to drip blood from the exertion of facing a gun pointed between his eyes.
As the two men faced one another in a deadly standoff, they failed to notice the very woman they had sworn themselves to protect and die for in this moment.
It shocked each of them when a pair of stitching scissors whizzed through the air between them, finding its mark in the wall. As they looked at the stitching scissors deeply lodged in the drywall, they slowly turned their heads to see a furious Antonina, glaring at the two of them.
