" You're wearin' that?" Joe raised his eyebrows as Saoirse applied a light coat of lipstick in the mirror.

" Yeah, why?" she frowned, looking down at the plum-coloured shift dress she had donned for the occasion.

Today had been her final day working for the Shelbys, and Polly and Ada had invited her out for a drink to bid her farewell and wish her good luck in her new ventures. They had assured her it would only be the two of them and that it wouldn't be a late one. She had of course been unable to refuse; not that she had wanted to. Polly and Ada were two women that she truly counted as friends and she was going to miss seeing them on a daily basis. Esme had slowly started to soften towards her but Saoirse knew they would never really be friends.

Saoirse had fully expected Joe to have something to say about it when she had hesitantly run it by him a few days prior. However, he had completely surprised her by expressing his delight at her going out and having some fun with her friends.

Not for one moment did it occur to her that with her gone, he could go out wherever he wanted without needing to give her an explanation. And after she had discovered the lipstick stain on his shirt the previous week, he had been even more careful than usual. He truly loved Saoirse, but he found that it was easier to control his temper around her when he could let it out in other ways. Or on other women. And it just so happened that when a man paid a whore enough money, she would let him do whatever he pleased. And if she didn't, he would do it anyway.

" Oh nothin', love," Joe shook his head. "I just think it looks a little tight around the middle, that's all."

" Well, it feels fine," Saoirse mumbled, smoothing the material over her flat stomach. She swung her arms around as though to prove the point that she had plenty of room to move in the garment.

" As long as you feel comfortable then that's all that matters, isn't it?" he smiled at her.

Self-doubt gnawed at her and she chewed on her lip, wondering if she should go and change.

" That navy dress always looks lovely on you," Joe suggested as though reading her thoughts.

Saoirse screwed up her face. The navy dress was more of a day dress and rather shapeless in style. She didn't really think it was a going out dress, but she also knew that if she didn't leave immediately she was going to be late. She didn't have time to rifle through her drawers looking for something else; at least not without trying everything on to see if she felt comfortable in it. With both her own mind and time against her, she hurried to change into the navy dress.

" I'll see you later," she grabbed her bag and ran to the front door.

" Hang on a minute, speedy," Joe caught up with her. He put an arm around her waist and kissed her soundly. Saoirse forced herself to relax into the kiss, and when pulled back he wiped at her mouth with his thumb until the lipstick she had applied was all gone. "Beautiful," he murmured with a small smile. "You don't need that crap on your face. You're perfect as you are."

She gave him a sort of smile back and then she was gone.

The Garrison was bustling, which was usual for a Friday night. As Saoirse stepped through the door, the man behind the bar shouted out to her. shouted to her with a friendly smile.

" They're in the snug waiting for you," he said. "There's a bottle of whisky waiting in there for you as well."

" A whole bottle?" Saoirse grinned. "I don't think I'll be needing it all to myself."

" Perhaps you will, perhaps you won't," the man commented, wiping down the bar top. "You're only young once. Live a little, eh?"

" When I've got the hangover from hell tomorrow, I'll remind you of that," Saoirse chuckled, knocking once and then pushing open the door to the snug.

" Surprise!"

Saoirse gasped and put a hand to her chest as she took in the crowd of people crammed tightly together in the tiny room. She took in the familiar smiling faces; Ada, Polly, Arthur, John and some of the other employees who she saw more regularly than others. Even little Finn was there; sitting in the corner with a shandy and he waved excitedly when he saw her.

" What's all this?" she muttered, allowing herself to be pulled into the middle of the throng.

" What do you think it is?" Ada grinned, handing her a tumbler of amber-coloured whiskey.

" You didn't think we were going to leave without a proper celebration, did you?" Arthur grinned, putting his arm around her shoulder. He was already drunk; she could tell by the look in his eyes as well as the fact that he stunk of rum.

" You little horrors," Saoirse grinned back, standing up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, making him blush in delight. "I can't believe you didn't tell me about this."

" Oh yeah," Ada snorted.

" We knew if we told you, you would never have come," Polly smiled and kissed Saoirse on the cheek.

What Polly didn't say out loud was that the reason Saoirse wouldn't have come was because Joe would have found a way to make her feel bad and guilt her into not attending. Especially if he knew that it was more than just Polly and Ada with her. He was clever. He wouldn't have flat out told her she couldn't come, he would have planted just a tiny seed of guilt in her mind and then watched it blossom with just a little coaxing. Polly hated the man. She would have wished a curse upon had she not wanted for it to come back on her threefold. It was plain to see that the girl was miserable, yet she continued to lie and pretend to the world that she was fine when really the only person that would have made her happy was the other one behaving like he had not a care in the world. She had invited Tommy; told him it was only proper for him to be there, seeing as she was his employee. But as expected he had given her some cock and bull story as to why he couldn't attend. Knowing her nephew as he did, he was probably sitting at home with a face like thunder, nursing a bottle of whisky.

" But now you are here, you've got to promise you're not going to try and run off as soon as our backs are turned," Polly said.

" I promise," Saoirse smiled. She couldn't believe they had done this for little old her. She was so happy and felt so cared for, but in the same breath she wished that she would be returning on Monday morning to see their friendly faces. As such, she was going nowhere. There had been no luck on the job front yet, despite the politely detached yet glowing reference Tommy had provided her with. She knew that if she asked Tommy or one of the others to put in a word for that any job she applied for would be hers instantly, but Saoirse didn't want that. She would be beholden to no one.

Part of her felt guilty that Joe thought she would be having a quiet night with only Polly and Ada, when in reality, she was surrounded by all the people she had come to know since working for the Shelbys. Another part of her was afraid that Joe would somehow find out and punish her. No, she told herself. He loves you and he wouldn't do that. Not again. He promised. She was released suddenly from her thoughts when John grabbed hold of her by the hand.

" Come on, I insist that you have at least one dance with me," he winked, twirling her around playfully.

" Oi and don't forget me," Arthur called out from across the room, where he was pouring himself another drink. "If John's getting a dance then I need at least two to beat him."

Saoirse grinned as John pulled her close and began to manoeuvre her through the group of people, shoving them when they failed to move fast enough, and before she knew it the whole party was spilling out into the main part of the pub. She told herself that she would just stay for a few drinks and a couple of dances. After all, it would be rude not to and she was certain Joe would understand. Especially once he knew that Tommy wasn't there. Saoirse had searched all around the room for him, but it was evident that he was missing. She supposed it was for the best. But as John spun her around again, practically flinging her into Arthur's waiting arms, she wished the smiling face staring down at her was the Shelby brother who wasn't there.

The night air was refreshingly cold. Saoirse leant against the wall by the alleyway next to the pub and put a hand to her flushed cheeks. It was nearing midnight and she knew she ought to be getting home. She had stepped outside for a breather and to allow herself a few moments to compose herself before going back in to bid everyone a good night, and the thought made her want to cry.

" You not enjoying your party?"

Saoirse looked up and saw Tommy stepping into the alleyway towards her. Her breath was caught in her throat as the soft glow from his cigarette illuminated his sharp cheekbones and soft, plump lips. She wished she couldn't recollect just how soft those lips were. She wished she didn't long to feel them pressed against her own again and again.

" Polly said you had business," she murmured as he stopped in front of her. "Or was that just an excuse?"

" Would it matter if it was?" Tommy threw the cigarette on the floor and stamped it out with the toe of his shoe.

" I just though-"

" You thought what?" Tommy tilted his head to look at her. "That I would laugh and smile with the rest of them and wish you good luck with your fucking future?"

" I…"

" That I would pretend that I can cope with not seeing the grin that crosses your face when Arthur brings you a pastry from the bakery in the morning, or the way you scrunch up your nose when you're going through the books. That I would pretend I can cope with not walking past you and smelling the scent of roses that doesn't come from your perfume, but just from you," he stepped closer pressing himself against her body. "Do you think I can sit in there, in front of all those fucking people and pretend that the thought of not seeing you again doesn't kill me inside? I'm Tommy fucking Shelby, I'm not supposed to give a fuck. Yet, if I go in there, they'll all know, won't they?" he rasped, grabbing her by the face. His heart was surging through his chest.

" Stop," Saoirse let out a sob.

" I can't," he shook his head vehemently. "Don't you understand? I can't fucking stop because I need you."

" Tommy," she begged, putting a hand over one of his, her bottom lip trembling. "Please don't do this."

" Do what?" he murmured, peering into her eyes, hoping he could lose himself in them forever. "Tell you how I feel? Tell you how you make me feel?"

" Look at me like that," she whispered. "You look at me like I mean something, Tommy, like I'm worth something."

" That's because you fucking are," his thumb brushed her cheek, catching the tears that fell. "You're worth everything, and I wish you could see that. I wish you would let me show you that."

And that was when it hit her. She wanted him to show her. She wanted him and only him. Standing up on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips against his, clutching at his coat. Tommy kissed her back desperately as though she was the oxygen he needed to breathe. His hands were in her hair, on her face, caressing her gently while his tongue delved inside her mouth desperate to mingle with her own. They were frantic, kissing as though this would be the last ever time. Her back met with the cold stone wall and when Tommy slid a hand up her skirt she arched backwards, silently begging him for more.

" No," he broke away suddenly, panting as he pressed his forehead against hers. "Not here. Not like this."

He took her hand and led her through the deserted streets and she didn't even look back.

Tommy's sparsely furnished bedroom was cold, the fire not having been lit, but the second Tommy put his arms around her she was warm instantly. Her coat fell to the floor with a soft thud followed by her dress. As Tommy divested her of it, she recalled Joe and how adamant he had been for her to wear it. She wanted to feel guilty that she was here now allowing another man to take it off, but all she could feel was Tommy and nothing else. He kissed her gently as he pulled down the straps of her slip until it puddled to the ground at her feet. His softly trailing hands left goose bumps along her milky white skin and he captured her lips gently with his own. Her brassiere was flung away next and Tommy picked her up and laid her down gently on the bed before removing the last of her underwear, until she was completely bare before him. She lifted her arms to try and cover herself but Tommy shook his head and he hurriedly stripped himself of his own clothes. He lay down beside her in only his boxers, his hands wandering over every inch of her skin.

" You're beautiful," he murmured, cupping her cheek and kissing her sweetly.

He kissed her jaw, moving around to her neck; biting and sucking just hard enough to make her sigh. He was terrified to hurt her, even accidentally. This was the toughest test of self-control he had ever faced. He wanted nothing more than lift her legs over his fucking shoulders and drive himself right to the hilt. But he wasn't going to do that. He was going to savour this; savour her. She deserved gentleness and care and that was what she was going to get. Even if it fucking killed him in the process. He palmed her full breasts, dipping his head to tongue the nipples that were straining not only from the cold air but from want of him as well. She gasped and arched her neck, whispering his name, clutching at his hair. He sucked her nipples, grazing them ever so lightly with his teeth making her moan and tug his hair harder. When he kissed his way down her stomach, she let out a breath as the frigid air hit the saliva he had left at her breasts, making it feel like he was still touching her there.

The second she felt his tongue against her core, she gripped the bed sheets for dear life, unable to process just how good he felt. He spread her folds apart with his hands and plunged his tongue inside, groaning at how slick she already was for him; groaning at the taste of her. His thumb pressed against her sensitive nub and she squirmed against his face as his tongue swirled around inside her, lapping up every bit of her. Tommy looked up to see her back arched and her hands clutching desperately at the sheets and he swore he could have come apart just from the sight of that alone. That image of her would be burned into his brain for the rest of time. Her thighs either side of his head were trembling as she was nearing her climax already but Tommy wasn't ready for that. Not yet. He nipped at the inside of a thigh while his thumb lightened on her until he was barely touching her.

" Tommy," she begged, her voice cracking with desperation.

" Hmm," he murmured against her, sending jolts through her.

" Please," she panted, feeling him grin against her.

His tongue plunged inside her once more as he pinched that sensitive spot gently between his thumb and forefinger. He groaned as he heard her cry out and she tensed around him. He licked and sucked, drawing her orgasm out, never wanting it to end. Without giving her time to come down from her high, he ripped off his boxers and nudged his hips between her legs.

" You sure you want this?" he whispered, kissing her cheek as the tip of him rubbed against her.

She nodded and lifted herself up slightly to kiss him. He grinned against her mouth and hissed as he eased himself inside of her slowly. Saoirse shifted to accommodate him, digging her nails into his shoulders as he moved about inside of her. He grabbed one of her thighs, lifting her leg to wrap it around his hip as he began to thrust rhythmically.

" Tommy," she murmured, raising her hips to meet his thrusts.

His hands were all over her, his mouth was kissing her; their breath coming together as one in the same way as their bodies. Tommy brushed the hair back from her face, wanting to see her beautiful face as she bit her lip in anguished delight. Her own hands roamed the expanse of his back, clawing when he changed the angle to hit her right where she needed him the most.

" Fuck," he groaned, feeling her breaking apart once again around him.

Taking her hands, he entwined his fingers with her own, squeezing them gently as he pressed his forehead against hers. This was better than anything his pathetic imagination had tried to conjure up. Usually, sex was just an act for him; a release. He remembered once overhearing his mother and her friend talking about the difference between having sex and making love. He had hurriedly scarpered off before they realised he was there, but it was only years later that he thought about how he had never himself discovered the difference. He had never been with a woman with the sole intent of being close to her and showing his… dare he say love?... for her. But now he understood completely. This right now was more than a physical act. This was the joining of not only two bodies, but two hearts and two souls. And he was damned he was ever going to allow them to be separated now. She was his forever. In this act, he had freed his heart of any remaining stubborn binds and he was now chained to her irrevocably for the rest of his days on earth. That thought was enough to tip him over the edge. He climaxed with a groan, never even thinking for a second to pull out of her, moving his hips slightly as his warm seed spilled inside of her.

" I love you," he murmured, rubbing his nose against hers, as they both lay panting.

Saoirse's eyes opened wide and she thought she had misheard him. Until he repeated it.

" You don't have to say that," she whispered, cupping his cheek, relishing the feel of their bodies pressed against one another still.

" I know," he smirked, his eyes tracing her own intently. "But you should know something about me. I never say anything I don't mean."

When she smiled, her entire face lit up and he could once again see the girl that had first walked into his office those months back. She wasn't gone. She was still there, waiting for someone to remind her of who she was.

" Saoirse O'Reilly, I love you," he pecked her lips. "And if you'll have me, I'll never leave your side."

" I love you too," she breathed, her heart so full of joy that she thought it might burst. "And I want to be with you as well."

In her joy it didn't even occur to her that she was promising something to Tommy when she was still tied to another man.

A man who was never going to let her go without a fight.