Is it strange that most people resort to murder if an inconceivable conflict were to arise? There were moments when Rain had the utmost desire to watch someone slowly lose their soul by some mysterious third party. Not once did she imagine killing someone with her own two hands.
It was the only thing she wanted dearly when Crimson came into view.
The Shelby party arrived at Jack Bowery's Birmingham warehouse. It was perfect. Almost too easy for Rain to comprehend. She stepped out of Mr. Shelby's car and into the rain. It felt eerie to be out on the lot when she was thrown there only a few hours ago. Rain wrapped her overcoat tighter around her frame as the cool air toyed with her fatigued mind.
Her thoughts were a conflicting battle between rest and revenge. Her body ached while waiting in the car, but once her eyes rested upon Crimson's drenched figure, she was everything but tired. She was restless, starving to execute this plan.
Michael stepped out of the black car after her. He took hold of her hand before she walked off with Mr. Shelby. "I'll be right here," he ensured her solemnly, "should you need any assistance."
"You always are." Rain gripped his hand firmly, before finally letting go.
She followed carefully behind Mr. Shelby. He stormed over each puddle through the pouring rain, oblivious to how heavily it weighed down his overcoat.
Unlike Mr. Shelby and Michael, Rain's hair was exposed to the weather. It clung to her black locks, pasting itself to her pale face. She kept her breathing calm as she walked silently across the empty clearing. A few rundown buildings surrounded Crimson's estate, but it was off the grid entirely. A ghost town. The only sound present were the raindrops against concrete and the footsteps leading up to the towering warehouse. She could spot the windowless openings on the second story above the unfinished terrace. Her car headlights were bright enough to illuminate most of the clearing. Not a single man guarded his building. Either that or they were really good at hiding.
Outside the metal doors stood Crimson, white suit and all.
He was without weapons. Bruno stood beside him with a pistol clearly displayed at his waist and one hand holding an umbrella over Crimson's figure. The giant man's mask was drenched, meaning his shots may result in misfires if he were to use his arms. Rain had never seen a design like Bruno's before, it could've easily been a water-resistant gun. Rain abruptly stopped her footing a few paces behind Mr. Shelby. She couldn't help but speculate whether Crimson had a pistol hidden somewhere on him.
There was a prolonged silence between the two parties. Mr. Shelby stood almost ten meters away from where Crimson stood. The white-suited man looked rather . . . thrilled to have company.
"Right on time, Miss. Cassin." Crimson began, "Here I was thinking Bruno would have a chance to practice his shooting."
"No guns." Mr. Shelby stated with disinterest.
Crimson seemed taken aback by Mr. Shelby's lack of enthusiasm. "I beg your pardon?"
"The deal was no guns and no men," he continued. "You don't seem to be a man of your word, Mr. Crimson. Not a very good first impression, I reckon."
Rain swiftly glanced behind her. Michael stood not too far behind, next to her running car where the headlights masked most of his features with a haloing effect. He appeared at ease, but she detected his fatigue running high. The icy rain wasn't a benefactor for his health, nor was it keeping Rain's rage at bay. She half expected herself to run up to Crimson and slice his throat open with her knife before the deal would take place.
No.
She had to resist. Too much depended on her cooperation.
Rain decided to focus on their surroundings, to catch any sign of movement while the two exchanged verbal blows.
"I believe you make outrageous first impressions, yourself, Mr. Thomas Shelby." Crimson mused. "Otherwise we wouldn't be here right now. It seems as though you've forgotten who broke the first term . . . taking away your boy was more so a-penalty than a punishment." he flashed those golden caps.
"And William?" Mr. Shelby inquired with a subtle nod. "Where is he? How do we know you're not harboring a corpse inside?"
Rain's stomach churned at the sound of this exchange. She turned her attention back to Crimson. He'd been looking straight at her.
"So now you've got another man making deals for you, Rainy?" He instigated. "How did that work the first few times?" His wild eyes peered beyond her figure, to Michael. "I see you've even brought along-,"
"-Do you want the fucking diamonds or not?" she intervened with impatience. Rain hated the sound of her name as he hurled it through his gold teeth. His grating voice tormented her every last nerve. She was only moments away from combusting.
Crimson didn't frown nor did he place any threats. Instead, he whistled through his gold teeth. It was a loud and distinct sound that could've traveled miles if not for the crack of lightning that followed. Shortly after, the metal doors to his warehouse burst open.
Two of Crimson's men held a small figure in their arms. His head was covered with a sack. The old man's body was clothed in tattered cloths and his feet bore no shoes, but they were bound by rough ropes. He was dragged along the wet concrete until he was carelessly dropped beside the man who summoned his presence. Rain could audibly hear the pain emitting from her father as he was hauled out and thrown violently onto the cold ground. She winced slightly, but managed to hold her composer, even as his face was uncovered.
The girl's breathing hitched in the dark. The little light shinning from the street lamps were luminescent enough to reveal the horror on her father's face. He struggled to breathe under the pouring rain, it thrashed against his frail figure. Though he was out in the open, out of his cell after years of captivity, William failed to run or fight. He sat upon the ground, trembling in the cold . . . as if waiting for orders.
Tears began to fall from Rain's eyes. She prayed to the Lord, thanking Him for the raindrops that masked her inability to appear composed. She was so close, so close to bringing him home. To bring him home so he could live once more in the light, beside his daughter.
"Is this your card, my dear Rainy?" Crimson jested with excessive enthusiasm.
Rain shoved her fists into her pockets. She felt the pouch of false diamonds in her right hand. Mr. Shelby looked back from where he stood. He pierced his blue eyes straight through her fear. His reassuring glance indicated that she was to continue on in with this plan.
And so, the grey-eyed girl let loose a nervous breath. She wrenched out the pouch from her coat and tossed it across the clearing where it landed straight into Crimson's ring-covered hands.
The false diamonds were crafted weeks before the real ones were discovered. It was Michael's plan to make the dupes. All Mr. Shelby needed to do was research the origin and cut of the jewels before ordering ten false diamonds. When Rain first saw them, they appeared almost as venomous as the originals. She hated those diamonds, anything remotely similar would trigger her rage. However while briefing with Mr. Shelby only an hour before, Rain shared that Crimson was dabbling with his shrinking cocaine stash. If he'd been using, which appeared to be so, the bastard would fail to notice any deceit.
As expected, Crimson inspected the jewels and counted them twice before dropping them back into the velvet pouch.
It was all going according to plan.
Without further instruction, Rain ambled forward in her step. She was halfway to her crouching father before the sound of a gun being cocked sent her focus back to Crimson. Instantly, the girl froze in her step.
"What do you think you're doing?" Crimson inquired. He aimed a pistol straight at Rain's face. She knew it was hiding somewhere.
"The deal's been made, Crimson." Mr. Shelby announced from behind her. "Or have you forgotten to establish a few conditions?"
"I'm conducting this fucking transaction!" Crimson roared uncharacteristically. He seemed collected for a few moments prior to this eruption. "I say when we disperse." he cleared his throat as though to excuse his outburst.
Rain eyed her father carefully. He wouldn't look at her, he wouldn't look up from the ground.
"My apologies, Mr. Crimson." Mr. Shelby exhaled. He was getting impatient with the sudden tantrum, Rain had detected. She edged back to her place, holding her breath until Crimson reclined his gun and stored back into his coat.
Another whistle weaved through the storm. This time a shorter figure holding an umbrella trotted through the open doors.
"All right!" the man grumbled, "No need to call me over like some dog."
The man was quite broad but he walked as though he were older than he appeared. His scraggly beard disguised strange red markings upon his face, though a few red blotches peered overtly on his dry skin. He wore a top hat that just barely covered his brooding eyes. Even in the dim lighting and flashes of lightening, Rain could spot his eccentric mannerisms. With one hand holding an umbrella, the other never appeared to rest. He was either scratching his beard or running it over his belly, though he managed to come across as calculated and acute.
"Can't conceive why we must do this out in the rain, but whatever the paying man wants." he said under his breath in a croaky voice.
The broad man peered at Rain once over as he walked into the light. Shortly after, his eyes grew in size once they rested on Mr. Shelby.
"Hello? Oy! Did not know you'd be here." The man gestured at Mr. Shelby with his bulky left hand. "Shalom! Mr. Shelby, my, my! Shalom!"
Mr. Shelby glanced at Rain subtly, issuing a slight obstacle. Although, he didn't appear too worried about the peculiar man. "Mr. Solomons," he greeted the man briefly with a nod.
Mr. Solomons showcased a wide grin. A slight sign of confusion wreaked his expression. "He said somethin' bout a Chinese girl. I see you now," he addressed Rain, "But the first thing that comes to mind is not Thomas Shelby, is it? No?" he stood wide eyed, "Just me? Right, then."
"I hope you take no offense, Mr. Shelby." Crimson began, "Considering your success in liquidating my entire cache in one careless night, I find you and your employees," he glanced at Rain, "rather untrustworthy. So I've called upon my most trusted jeweler in London."
"No worries, Mr. Crimson." Mr. Shelby affirmed, "I'm positive this won't taint my future encounters with Mr. Solomons at all."
The man appeared apprehensive for a fleeting moment. All the while, Rain peered back and forth from her father to the odd man. If Mr. Solomons were to out them . . . All Rain could do was keep herself from looking back at Michael. She could feel the heat rising to her ears as Crimson handed the pouch to Mr. Solomons.
"Go on, Alfie." Mr. Shelby insisted, "tell the man they're real so we can get out of the bloody rain."
"Yeah, I know what I'm doin' all right, Tommy." Mr. Solomons waved him off, "Do I tell you how to conduct your business? No, I very well don't think so."
Rain had half a mind to burst into laughter at Mr. Solomons' remark. She couldn't decipher whether it was the anxiety plaguing her thoughts or if it was simply his comedic aura that caused her giddy behavior. However, she held herself frozen beside Mr. Shelby. The pair waited in silence as Mr. Solomons pulled out a monocle contraption from his coat pocket.
"Hello, big man!" He called to Bruno. "Do you mind holding this fucking thing over me?" Mr. Solomons held his umbrella for Bruno to take as he rambled on. "Honestly mate, how do you expect a man to do his fucking job?"
Bruno failed to utter a sound, though his discolored eyes appeared vexed as he took hold of Mr. Solomons' umbrella. He did look a bit odd. A large, brute of a man holding umbrellas over two men while the rain poured down on him. It was enough to keep Rain sane.
The cranky man appeared much more so as he placed the magnifier on his left eye and proceeded to shake a few diamonds out onto the palm of his hand. A slow burn made its way to Rain's fingertips as he held one rock up to the light. A quick inspection, and then it was on to the next one, and then three more. All the while, Rain's breathing began to quicken in pace as she questioned how Mr. Shelby stood perfectly calm in the midst of a growing storm. They didn't prepare for an inspection.
"This one here, you see, Jackie." Mr. Solomons said in a more grounded voice. He held one jewel out in particular. The lights from Rain's car caused it to glisten. "This single African diamond, you see it? This beauty is grand enough to buy you ten casinos, Red Man. Let me tell you, mate, if I, myself, were not a devoted jeweler I'd run off with this single diamond alone and leave you all to hell." he remarked before eyeing Rain as if struggling to solve a mystery, "Where did a girl like you get your hands on this?"
"Thank you, Mr. Solomons." Crimson failed to notice his jeweler's quick glance exchanged with Mr. Shelby as he took hold of the pouch. "You've proven yourself useful once again."
"Of course, of course." Mr. Solomons chorused. He put away his magnifying monocle, but had kept his eyes bouncing between Mr. Shelby and Rain.
"I almost didn't believe you'd deliver, Miss. Cassin." Crimson delighted. He pulled out a diamond and studied it with a fierceness Rain had seen on him before. It was the night in his casino, when he'd discovered who she really was.
As Crimson spoke, she treaded carefully to her father. He was trembling harsher than before. She didn't wait for Mr. Shelby's consent, nor Crimson's. With each step her heart sank further into the ground.
"Years of hard work and pain," Crimson muttered, perhaps to himself. "So many lives taken, so many bridges burned . . . all for this. My darling jewels."
The girl reclined to the wet ground. The rain seeped through her father's clothes, it trailed down his skeletal limbs. Rain grasped on to William's hands, she felt them quiver at her touch.
"Papa?" she didn't acknowledge how little her voice resonated. "C'est moi . . . Renée."
It's me. Please remember.
She took of her overcoat and placed it around her father's shoulders. The cold rain soaked through her shirt within seconds.
"I want to thank you, Rain." Crimson avowed as thunder boomed over the clearing.
William shook at the alarming sound. He took hold of his daughter's hands, his breathing was abnormally paced. The old man whispered nonsense as he searched around for the source of this sound. Rain kept her eyes leveled with her father's. Those grey orbs, so reminiscent of what she saw in the mirror each day. They held the fear of ten lifetimes. They held horrors she was fortunate enough to escape. After all, that's all he wanted for her when he was taken.
"Renée!?" He bellowed out, "My Rain!" as if calling for her.
Finally, Rain was successful in keeping him steady on the ground. She had forgotten there were others around them when he stopped. William held the gaze of his daughter, and truly all his fear disappeared. One by one, those walls of torment fell from his eyes. Rain felt her heart rise up as she welcomed her father's steady gaze.
She saw him. She saw her father. She saw William Cassin.
A smile filled with sorrow escaped her. "It's me, papa," she ensured him, "We're going home."
"I wan't to thank you for what you've done to me, Rain."
". . . My Rainbow."
Soon after William whispered the only sane words he'd spoken in years, thunder crashed around him, but it also shot right through his heart.
Once again, there was blood on Rain's hands.
This time, her father was sprawled lifelessly across her lap. She held him there, unaware of what chaos continued around her.
The moment he fell forward in her arms, her legs were rendered useless.
Once the blood penetrated his tattered shirt, it was her mind that failed to comprehend her surroundings. There was a series of shouting, from afar and from herself, but she couldn't hear any of it. She felt herself sob, felt her body convulse over her father's.
Then there were more lights as she sat upon the cold ground. More headlights from cars of men who could've been allies or enemies. There were bodies fighting bodies. Guns firing, blood splattering. When Rain looked around, no one appeared relatively familiar.
No one except Crimson.
She watched carefully as he laughed amongst the disorder, the mayhem he initiated. There were coppers, Mr. Shelby's men, and Crimson's all flailing about. Knives, clubs, nightsticks. People were dying because of him.
Her father suffered, because of him.
Without acknowledging it, Rain removed herself from her father's corpse wrapped in her black overcoat. She had watched any remaining life of his slip away from his grey eyes.
Why couldn't she let herself waste away in her misery?
As she got on to her feet, the single remaining desire of hers was to cause destruction.
The girl stormed across the havoc that wreaked that opening. Crimson fought his way to his warehouse. In that instance, Rain found Mr. Shelby, his brothers, Isiah, and Michael fighting Crimson's men alongside the police. No one had their eyes on the bastard. They were all cut up and bloody, all consumed by their rage.
As was Rain. So she ran.
She ran after the devil in the white suit as he slipped inside the unguarded warehouse. Her fatigue had completely escaped her. She running completely on anger. Her only hunger was for blood.
The dark halls were barren. It was a completely different setting without the yelling and scraping from the disarray outside, but Crimson's footsteps and maniacal laughs weren't distant at all. They felt tangible. Rain followed him. It was just her now. No one to hold her back, no one to raise doubts. Her shallow breaths echoed through the corridors as she raced from one to the next.
His footsteps were ascending. Rain searched for the nearest staircase. Her hands gripped onto anything in the dark, until she found the edge of a few steps. It took her seconds to follow behind.
The floor above was illuminated by the headlights from outside. The windows weren't sealed with glass, so the rain and wind were blowing in from all four corners. The large open space held pillars of unfinished walls. They countless metal bars were thick enough to hide behind.
Rain's heartbeat stilled. She forced her breathing to a steady pace as she peered around each post. Carefully, so that her shoes made no sound, the girl maneuvered along the floor. It was growing harder to listen as adrenaline raced through her veins. Drums were pounding in her ears, she was ready to jump at any moment.
As she slid along the opening, closer to the light emitting from the cars, there was a slight echo, rendering her motionless. Rain paused in any movement, carefully surveying her surroundings.
"Found you."
What she failed to notice was that the echo originated from behind her. The sound of Crimson's voice sent chills down her spine. The words slipped into ears as if he stood inches away. Suddenly, an arm reach over her throat before she could act.
"Did you honestly think I'd let you walk away from me?" he rasped in hear ear as she squirmed around in his hold.
The girl shook in his grip as he continued to strangle her from behind. Her eyes began to water and she struggled to keep still. Her instincts went haywire. She tried to wrench her fingers over his meaty hands, but he did not falter. Black spots began to form over her vision as he lifted her slightly off the ground.
"You've taken everything from me, you fucking Chinese whore," he tormented her with a pulsing clench. "I'd say we're about even now."
Before everything went black, Rain quickly kicked back her right foot. Her heavy heel whipped back into Crimson's shin. His grip instantly loosened, but only for a moment. In that moment of clarity, Rain leaned forward with all her might. It sent Crimson over her back, once she was breathing again, it was easier to slam him onto the floor with a cry of relief.
In a blur of movements, Crimson pushed Rain off of him from the ground. She was struck hard on the chest by his boot. It sent her slamming against one of the many posts. Her fear was beginning to surface once Crimson got to his feet and pulled out a gun, aiming it straight at her heaving chest.
Rain lunged forward before he had a chance to pull the trigger, successfully knocking the pistol out of his hands. She heard it drop onto the ground as she tumbled away from him. Crimson was caught off guard by her ballsy distraction. Once on her feet, with all the ferocity she could muster, Rain charged forward and propelled Crimson so he was back against a pillar. She heard his breath hitch once she thrust her forearm against his throat, meanwhile, Rain swiftly pulled out her knife from her pocket and held it against his jaw.
He was immobile under her grip regardless of her height. Her strength had doubled since their last encounter.
"I see you've learned quite a few things from those Shelby boys." he wheezed through her deadly clutch.
"You don't get to fucking talk!" Rain hissed through her teeth. She shoved him against the pillar once more. She could smell the sweat dripping from his forehead as she sliced her blade against his cheek. The blood instantly dripped down her stained knuckles as she dug deeper while he strained to keep in his cries. She felt the knife dig into his flesh, jagged and soft. The slower she cut the louder he cried. It was a feeling she'd never forget.
Once she let go, Rain felt Crimson's breaths grow shallow under her arm, yet he remained on his feet. "Go ahead," he encouraged her with a deranged chuckle. "This is how you differ from William, he was weak!"
With a cry, Rain shoved Crimson away from her sight. "DON'T FUCKING SAY HIS NAME!" she barked. His name, it instantly brought up images of her dead father. The way he looked at her with those knowing grey eyes. He knew he had found her. She had found him . . . but it was all taken from her. So quickly. So fleeting.
Rain held out her bloodstained knife at Crimson's crouched figure. He scurried back, further back as she raced forward. She laughed. She laughed at the sight of his fear. She reveled in it.
What Rain didn't see was the gun Crimson reached for. He lunged for it, but Rain dived after him. She stumbled over Crimson's body, rolling him onto his back as she strained to wrench it out of his hands. She felt his hands reach around her abdomen once he crouched over her, but she struck him hard on the nose to the point where she heard a crack. He howled in reaction to her bone breaking blow. Though he did not falter over her, he kept one hand tightly gripped over her face. His nails dug into her skin, her eyes.
Rain grabbed hold of his arm and swung it away before he could do any damage to her vision. She pushed him off her body and got on her feet with her world spinning around her and her heart beating like she were ready for death. There by the window, she saw the gun. For an instance she felt relief, but as Rain ran to reach for it, a body slammed behind her and she found herself tumbling out of the window.
The sensation of falling from a window was never what Rain imagined it would be. Instead of a gentle descend, the girl found herself latched on to Crimson by his strong grip. The two fell onto the unfinished terrace below, but on an incline. One slam on the balcony and Rain found herself short of breath with Crimson's weight on top of her. Panic shot through her as the rain poured down upon her. Another jolt of fright possessed her as they began to roll off the balcony in one quick motion. She was free at this point but braced herself for the harder fall.
Two bodies struck the ground with a thundering embrace. The fighting below had dwindled as the coppers held most of Crimson's men in cuffs. All eyes were on the fallen, bloody individuals.
The harsh impact wasn't enough to wear down Rain's fire. She had blood running down her forehead and felt her shirt tear open from the back, but she forced herself up on all fours. Her head spun with illusions racing around her vision as she moved lethargically. The terrace had aided her fall and prevented what could've been a series of broken bones. Luckily, the girl was able to stand without falling.
Crimson's focus was fixed on the wet and muddy ground behind her.
The pistol!
When she saw that he was ready to take action, Rain leaped for it! Her muscles ached, but she ignored their cry for rest and landed on her abdomen before snatching the battered pistol.
It was in her hands as she rolled over, onto her back. It was real. This was it!
At last, the broken and bloody girl sat up to face Jack Bowery Crimson. He stood fearful, with his hands up in defeat. A wicked smile breeched her expression as she aimed the pistol up at his bloody gold teeth from her place upon the ground. Her chest heaved as she drew out a laugh and cocked the gun.
CRACK!
It was the crack of a gunshot, but it did not come from the gun in Rain's hand.
For a full moment, Rain found herself at loss for words when Crimson fell backwards onto the pavement. His brains were spewed across the ground. There was even a piece near her boot. It slipped away in the small current flowing along each puddle as the storm raged on.
Disbelief . . . led to unfiltered outrage.
The girl stood up too quickly, it sent her world spinning, but it didn't stop her from searching for the shooter. She threw her gun onto the ground. Silence followed around her. Men gaped at her with fear as she walked over Crimson's lifeless body. The police were gone by then. No coppers. She made her way through the crowd of Mr. Shelby and Johnny's men. All of them stood motionless in the rain.
They knew Crimson was Rain's to kill.
They were ordered to leave him.
Ordered by Thomas Shelby.
"Rain!" Isiah approached her.
There was a ravage look in her eyes. She watched him recline from her, "Who shot him?" she questioned.
"Rain, listen -" he began, but Rain had no mind for coaxing.
"I wan't to fucking know!" Rain's eyes didn't stop searching for the shooter.
All in one night, she lost her father and failed to save him from the man who tormented him for years. That very man was not killed by her own two hands. She wasn't given the satisfaction of avenging her father.
Rain thought all of her heart was taken from her.
It wasn't until she found Michael when she realized there was still some part of her heart that was still beating.
That surviving beat died with the rest of her once she saw the gun in his hands.
"You . . ." her footing faltered. She almost tripped as she stormed forward. The adrenaline had worn off, and her wrath was not enough to keep her fatigue away. Rain weaved through the bystanders. "You fucking-" Halfway to Michael, Rain was held back by a pair of hands she couldn't identify. Her sight was forever fixated on the man she loved. The man who stole away her retribution with a swift shooting. An easy death.
Michael remained in his stance. He dropped the gun he fired beside him, watching the girl he loved ravage through the men who tried to stop her. She fought her way through the rain and the grit and the restraints.
"How could you!?" she cried as lightening flashed over her red face.
She was devastated.
He didn't make a move. He couldn't look her in the eye as she wrenched herself free from Isiah's control. The first blow was at his chest, so that he'd face her. Michael stepped back at the sudden force. It was stronger than he anticipated.
"How could you?!" she repeated with a strike to his jaw. He held on to her right wrist before she could strike again.
"I don't wan't to fight, Rain!" he exclaimed desperately.
It was Arthur who strode forward with Isiah once she pummeled Michael's face with another aggressive attack. The pair hauled her back, away from Michael, with her arms flailing. "You knew!" Rain's screams faltered into a sob. "Get the fuck off me!" she squirmed out of their grip, but she didn't run to attack him. They let her be once she kept still, but they were weary nonetheless. She stood breathless with the weight of the world on her shoulders. Rain bore at him with tired eyes. "You fucking knew, Michael . . ." she breathed.
He knew.
He knew he'd done the wrong thing the moment he did it . . . but that didn't stop Rain from running.
She ran away from the clearing even when he called after her. She ran when her friends called after her. She ran until it felt the only thing she could do.
Once again, the grey-eyed girl ran as far as she could from Green Eyes.