No two men had ever loved their mother as much as Ronnie and Reggie Kray. Violet Kray was the epitome of all that it meant to be a mother. She loved her children fiercely and had done her best to ensure they had food in their bellies and a roof over their heads, while their father was often gone for long periods at a time. In return, the twins adored her unconditionally. They might be big bad game players in the dark criminal underworld of London, but at home they were those two young boys who did everything their mother asked without question.
It was ironic really that for someone who idolised his mother in the way that Reggie Kray did, the thought of the woman who was mother to his baby stirred no feelings inside of him.
Although that was a complete and utter lie. One he chose to tell himself in the hopes of easing his guilty conscience. After all, she had been forced to move away, cast into shame at falling pregnant out of wedlock- and to a Kray nonetheless- while he had spurned both her and his unborn child, allowing himself to feel no regret when he saw her tear stained face as she had begged him to help her. Instead, all he had done was sneer at her pathetic grovelling, his poisonous words stabbing her like darts as he repeated everything her own parents had said to her as well as adding his own hurtful sentences.
"It was far too easy to get into your knickers, love. In fact, I didn't really have to do anything cos you all but dropped them the second I uttered once nice word to you. Aint my problem you've gone and got yourself up the duff. Maybe it'll serve you right, and if you struggle finding work, I hear they're always lookin' for women like you down back alleys in every part of the country."
He closed his eyes and scrunched up the letter in his fist, his hand physically shaking with rage She was so kind and innocent, and he had ruined that. He had ruined her. She never treated him like those other girls; never asked for a thing; never expected or even wanted to be wined and dined and decorated with jewellery like a gaudy Christmas tree. No. All she ever wanted was to be with him. To talk and hold hands and share her hopes and dreams for the future. She wanted to go back to school and become a teacher. She wanted to give children their own hopes and dreams for the future. But now he had stolen those hopes and dreams from not only her but from them as well.
He took a long drag of his cigarette and exhaled the smoke as slowly as possible in a bid to calm his anger. Not that it worked. Instead, his brain continued to torment him with images of her. He could still remember the very moment he first met her as though it was yesterday.
The club was empty. Reggie's polished black shoes echoed with each step he took across the freshly waxed dance floor. He heard her before he saw her and he was entranced right from the second that slightly off key singing she was doing reached his ears. She was polishing glasses and swaying to music only she could hear. He slammed his hands down on the bar, still streaked from where she had wiped it clean, and she screeched before dropping the glass in her hand to the floor. She dropped to her knees immediately to pick up the shards of glass, and it was at the exact moment Reggie hopped up onto the bar and swung his legs around it that a piece decided to imbed itself right into her thumb.
"You fucking fucker," she hissed, clutching her hand to your chest and grimacing.
"I hope you don't kiss your mother with that mouth," Reggie grinned, taking her hand to look at the rather superficial wound. "I reckon you'll live."
His eyes twinkled with mirth as he used surprising gentleness to fish out the small piece of glass from her thumb. A little bit of blood dribbled down, oozing ever so slightly from the pathetic looking cut and without giving her a warning, Reggie took her finger into his mouth and licked it softly. She wanted to pull away in disgust and outrage but the way he had looked at her while he suckled on her thumb was so magnetic and raw that she found herself unable to think about anything other than the way her heart was leaping through her chest.
"Mm," he crooned to himself, releasing her thumb before licking those full lips of his slowly. "Delicious."
At that moment, she had burst out laughing, surprising both herself and him. She laughed so hard that tears literally poured from her Y/E/C eyes and Reggie frowned at her like she had lost the plot completely.
"I'm sorry," she guffawed, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hands. "I just… I don't even know why I'm laughing."
"Well, if you don't know then I don't suppose I've got a cat in hell's chance of understanding then?" Reggie smirked, before tilting his head slightly to look at her properly. "You look beautiful when you laugh, do you know that?"
"That might work on other girls, Mr Kray," she said quietly, drawn in by those blue orbs once again. "But it won't work on me."
"Call me Reggie," he grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement. "And seeing as you know my name, perhaps I could know yours? And also what you're doing in my club?"
"Working," she answered a little breathlessly as his face neared closer to her own. So close that she could smell the cigarette he had not long before smoked. "Albie hired me a few days ago to do some bits of cleaning and stuff in the afternoons before the club opens."
He regarded her with an almost predatory look. His eyes flickered to the pulse in her neck which was beating wildly and she knew he could see it. "You still didn't tell me your name."
"Y/N," she murmured. "My name's Y/N."
Reggie's eyes swallowed her whole, taking in every inch of her face as though he was memorising her, and she wanted to hide from his intense gaze while at the same time begging him to never stop looking at her the way he was right now. When he leaned forward to brush his lips against hers, she couldn't move. She just sat there with her eyes wide, breathing in the smell of the musky cologne he wore and feeling the bristles of stubble on his face as he kissed her.
"I won't bite if you kiss me back," he teased playfully, kissing her again.
This time she did kiss him back. Her arms wound themselves around his neck and his hands wandered the length of her waist, stopping just below her breasts. She didn't know whether to be thankful or disappointed that he attempted nothing further. Instead he kissed her leisurely and languidly until they both heard the door to the club swing open.
Standing up, Reggie smiled at Albie and Ronnie. How did he manage to look so at ease and as though nothing had just happened.
"What the bloody hell are you doing?" Ronnie narrowed his eyes at his twin brother.
"Our new cleaner had a bit of an accident," Reggie explained, motioning for her to stand up, which she did. The smug smiles on Albie and Ronnie's faces quickly disappeared when they saw her blood covered hand. "We've got it under control though, haven't we, Y/N?"
She did nothing more than smile when he winked at her, somehow managing to control the red blush she felt inside from manifesting itself physically. At the time she hadn't realised that would be the first of only many occasions in which she and Reggie would almost get caught together.
Reggie smiled to himself as he thought about the whirlwind that had been the past year and a half with her. He couldn't ever remember a time in his life when he had been more happy. He'd never had a shortage of women flocking around him, but she was different. He wanted more than a physical relationship with her. He appreciated her for more than her looks. He adored her sharp wit and intelligence. She had opinions and beliefs, and wasn't afraid to stand up for them. Even Ronnie had lost more than one or two debates with her; none of which she had won by resorting to shouting or having a tantrum. No, she spoke eloquently and passionately with facts and knowledge.
She had a wonderful sense of humour that never failed to bring a smile to Reggie's face even when times were hard. She would crack a joke or tell a tale and immediately he found himself unable to even recall what had him so upset in the first place.
Her heart was so full of love and care for others that he wondered how it was possible for a person to be so kind in a world full of such sorrow and darkness. When Violet had taken ill, she had stayed at the house for two weeks helping to look after her when the boys were at work. Violet had taken to her easy and genuine nature immediately. It had been all 'Y/N this' and 'Y/N that'.
"I reckon it won't be long before you're buying a hat, Mum," Ronnie had smirked one evening as they ate dinner.
"Shut up, Ron," Reggie glared as his insides churned at the thought.
And that was when it had all changed. He realised that he was crazily and madly in love with her. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her and nobody else, but for some bizarre reason that thought absolutely terrified him. So he had done the one thing he was good at; self- sabotage.
He had made excuses not to see her; excuses to avoid her whenever he could. He started sleeping around with other women in the hopes that he could fuck her out of his system and convince himself that he didn't want a future with her. And he was doing a good job of it as well. At least that was until the day she turned up on his doorstep in the late hours of the night.
It was pouring with rain and Reggie opened the door to see her stood there. At first, he hadn't noticed the tears pouring down her face because they were mingled with the rain that dripped from her wet hair.
"Y/N?" he ushered her into the dimly lit hallway, his eyes falling upon the suitcase in her hand. "What's going on?"
"They kicked me out, Reg," she sniffed, bursting into tears. "My parents… they said they don't want me in the house cos I've brought shame on the family."
"You what?" he frowned. "What the bloody hell you talking about?"
"I'm pregnant," she whispered.
Reggie blinked, his brain trying to register the words she had uttered.
"Whose is it?" he asked before he could stop himself.
He didn't know why he said it. He knew he was the father of that baby growing inside her. Of course he knew that. He was the only man she had ever been with, and he didn't deserve the innocence and love she had given him willingly but he had taken it because he couldn't help himself. Staying away from her over these past few weeks had taken every bit of willpower he possessed, and all he wanted to do in that moment was take her in his arms and kiss her and express his joy at the life they had created.
But he didn't do that. Of course he didn't. Instead he put that indifferent mask upon his face and those iron bars around his heart.
"No offence, but you don't know it's mine," he sneered. "It could be anyone's, couldn't it?"
"You know I've only been with you, Reg," she looked hurt.
"That's what they all say, don't they," he sniffed indifferently. "I mean, I told you that I cared about you and weren't seeing anyone else but that was a lie. I've been fucking around like no one's business cos no matter what you think, you aren't anything special, love. At least not to me, anyway."
She swallowed, her bottom lip wobbling as she tried to make sense of what he was saying.
"Reg, why are you doing this?"
"Why?" he scoffed. "Because I am not about to get tied down to a little slapper who's got herself up the duff and is looking for a father for her brat. Your parents were right, you have brought shame on them. You're a fucking embarrassment and I think you should leave now cos I'm busy."
"But I have nowhere to go," she whispered desperately.
"Not my problem," he shrugged, his eyes cold and dark. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his wallet and yanked out a bundle of notes before thrusting them into her coat pocket. "This should help sort you out. Why don't you take your pathetic little bag and those doe eyes and fuck off somewhere far away from here? Go somewhere no one knows you and tell them you're a widow or whatever the fuck you want. But I don't wanna see you around here again, got me?"
"Reggie, please don't do this," she begged.
"Reggie please don't do this," he mocked, grabbing her by the arm and pushing her out onto the street, flinging her back at her feet. "Give the innocent act a rest, eh? You got yourself into this mess and now it's up to you to fix it."
The door slammed in her face and in that moment she realised she was all alone.
That look of pure unbridled hurt and devastation on her beautiful face had haunted Reggie every single day since. Now today, as he re read the letter she had sent, he felt as though his heart was breaking into a thousand pieces all over again.
He traced the swirling letters she had written and brought the paper to his nose, convincing himself he could smell her on it.
Reggie,
Your son was born a little over one week ago. He is perfect in every way. He is your mirror image, in fact. I know you told me not to get in contact again the last time I tried but I thought you deserved to at least know your child has come into the world. What you choose to do with that information is your prerogative.
Yours,
Y/N.
Yours, she had written. And it was true. She was his and always would be, even if it was just in his spirit and in his heart where nobody else could ever see.
He tried to convince himself that she was better off without him. Both her and the kid were. She was going to be a wonderful mother, of that he had no doubt. She didn't need him. Neither of them did.