When Thomas returned to Charlie's yard, he was grateful not to see his uncle sitting in the same chair, drinking his life away. Dismounting the horse, he rubbed its nose before handing the animal off to Curly's delicate care. Thomas trusted Curly to keep the horse well maintained until he was ready to use the animal for upcoming races after Monaghan Boy lost. He rubbed his hand over his chin and inhaled, smelling the murky water and smoke from the factories behind him.
Thomas stepped to the murky water and looked down for a moment before fishing out his box of Afton's. Lighting a cigarette, he tossed the match in the murky water, watching the flame die instantly.
Being the imposing figure he was, he didn't have to queue or push past people who got in his way. It amused him how people would step out of his way. He was an ordinary man who lived the same as the next person. The afternoon overcast darkened the streets of Small Heath, casting a shadow that he could understand. He ignored everyone that passed him, even the mother pulling her two children with a hasty "I'm sorry Mr. Shelby".
He removed his cap, shoving it in his jacket pocket before grasping the handle and pushing the door open to Polly's. Inside, he removed his jacket, setting it down on the table, greeting those that stopped him as he made his way to his office. It was crowded and busy for the time of the afternoon and he relished in the money that poured into the Betting house. He could hear the clinking of coin from the entrance and noted the exponential growth of betting since he did the powder trick.
"They're all here for Monaghan boy," John said, jerking Thomas' arm.
Giving a smile to his brother, "That's what I like to hear, Johnny."
"Polly's looking for you," John said before disappearing to deal with something else.
Thomas hesitated to find Polly. If she was looking for him, it concerned family business, not bookmaking. He left her to deal with all the family business, relaying information back to him when he needed to know. He cast a glance at the blackboard at the far end of the room, smiling to himself as he did before turning away to find Polly.
He shoved his hands in the pockets of his trousers and found Polly standing in the parlor a few seconds later. She stood there waiting patiently for him. He knew by her posture, her news would not be pleasant. If it was women's business, it was never pleasant, in his opinion.
"What is it?" he asked, watching her fidget.
"There's been a development…" she began, twisting her hands together nervously.
His plan to check the calendar and spend time working on the books was omitted from his mind hearing her news. Anger surged in him as he turned away from Polly and hurried out of the Betting house, grabbing his jacket along the way. Shoving his hands in the sleeves, he made himself presentable. He fixed his hat, jerking the door open a second later to hunt down his sister.
Polly informed him that Ada went to an afternoon showing of a movie. It helped that she would be alone for their conversation. As he hurried to the cinema, he couldn't believe how incredibly stupid his sister was. Getting pregnant without being married. Polly never mentioned a man when telling the news. The thought angered him as he continued his walk to the cinema. He expected idiotic shenanigans from his brother's, but not Ada. Out of all of them, she was the one he hoped would do better.
Thomas tossed the dying cigarette on the ground and looked up seeing the Penny Crush Cinema. He pushed past the line of people and quickly found out which theatre room she was in. The younger man stumbled out of the number, terrified of Thomas. If he'd been anyone else cutting line, there would be a commotion of noise, but everyone stayed silent as Thomas Shelby pushed past them. He found theatre room two quickly and pulled the doors open with such ferocity the doors slammed against the wall.
Thomas ignored the stares coming at him as the doors slammed open. He inhaled sharply, trying to keep a calm demeanor. He stormed down the aisle, looking at everyone to find the silhouette of his sister. Halfway down the rows of seats, he found her sitting alone with a small bag of popcorn. Entering the aisle, he flopped into the seat beside her, ignoring the movie in front of him.
"Tell me the man's name, Ada." Thomas demanded, hissing quietly.
"Rudolph Valentino," Ada snarked, clearly annoyed at her older brother. Polly must have told him the news. It annoyed her greatly, especially when she had to confess who the father was. Ada could only imagine Thomas's anger and shock when she revealed the truth.
Angered by her answer, Thomas rose quickly and walked away from her. The double doors entering the theatre slammed against the wall again as Thomas opened the door to the projection room.
"Turn off the fucking movie," he demanded, startling the man in the room before slamming the door shut.
The movie stopped playing as the man turned off the projector. The lights came back on, startling the patrons, who were enjoying their afternoon film.
"Get out! All of you!" Thomas demanded to the small crowd as he walked back to Ada. Thomas heard the stampede of footsteps as the patron scurried out of the theatre room, leaving him alone with his irresponsible sister.
She hadn't moved from her seat. He could tell he clearly agitated her for his abysmal behavior. If she was angry with him or not, he didn't give a fuck. He stopped at the row she was sitting in, his anger barely in check. She didn't dare look at him because if she did, she would tell him. And if she refused, he would go on a warpath to find out.
"Now, I am going to ask you again. Tell me his fucking name, Ada." he demanded, the wolf growling quietly in his head.
She stared at the screen, wondering if she should tell Thomas. Ada knew if she didn't tell him, there would be repercussions to not telling him. She hated the position she was in and touched her growing womb softly before deciding.
Ada squared her shoulders and turned her head to look at her older brother square in the eye. "Freddie fucking Thorne," she spat.
Thomas froze, looking at her as if someone had slapped him. His fucking best friend? Well, his former best friend. The same one who saved his sorry arse in France. His mind drifted over the day that Danny destroyed half the Garrison and the comment Freddie made about "taking him out one day."
It clicked.
Freddie knew if Thomas ever found out that Ada was with him, Thomas would hang him. Thomas stood there for another moment, listening to her rant at him. He spun around, anger overtaking his senses as he stormed out of the theatre, slamming the doors open and cracking the glass and shattering the other window.
"Send the bill to the Peaky Blinders," he said to the manager. He could hear Ada yelling from the theatre before it went quiet.
Alone in his office in the Betting house, Thomas sat behind his desk. Piles of coin and paper littered the table as he lifted a glass to his lips. It was one of the few places he could think freely without people pestering him daily. He finished the last swallow of whiskey, setting the glass down on the table with a loud clunk.
He sighed loudly, staring at nothing as his mind raced. There was too much going on in his life.
Too many things could and would go wrong at the drop of a hat. First, the crate of guns, the Inspector arriving, his fight with Maze and finally learning today his sister was pregnant by a man who he didn't want to associate with anymore.
He sighed again. His problem with Maze could be fixed if he'd listen to her side of the story. Thomas absently scratched his face, wishing the itching would go away. His skin felt taut as it itched. It felt like bugs crawling under his skin trying to break free. It was like the longer he was away from her, the more his skin itched. Thomas didn't understand it, but he knew the answer lied in the Grimoire.
All the questions that swirled his mind concerning Mazella. The answers would be written in black ink, telling him what he needed to know, but Thomas steadfastly refused to read the book.
He asked around, trying to find Freddie Thorne for most of the afternoon with no luck. It seemed his slippery Commie friend disappeared before he learned he was going to be a father. Ada did the worst thing she could do besides prostituting herself out for money.
No woman survived being pregnant in these times. No job, no money...nothing. It was fortunate that Ada was a Shelby and had a family that could take care of her, if she wished for it. He knew his sisters would refuse the help from his family, no matter how well meaning it came across. If Freddie didn't come around, Thomas could hear the whispers that would float around town about 'that Shelby girl…. pregnant'. Many women weren't as lucky as her. Many times, the father never returned, leaving the woman to care for the child alone without suitable pay or housing.
Too many ended in the workhouses, barely surviving.
Thomas contemplated killing Freddie as soon as his former friend stepped back into Birmingham. Arthur and John wouldn't take it well; their younger sister was pregnant with Freddie's child. Ada was young. She could find a suitable husband to help raise the child. Thomas would see a gun in the face if he demanded she abort the child.
Polly interrupted his thoughts, coming into the betting den. She dropped her things loudly on a table and walked over to stand in front of him. Apparently, Monaghan Boy won his latest race, giving the Shelby's a hefty payout. She looked at the piles of coin and paper before looking at him.
"'Monaghan Boy' finally lost, didn't he?" she asked, leaning her hands on the worn wooden table.
"We took money from all over the city," he waved his hand casually over the piles of paper and money.
"Yes, well, you're going to pay it back to them. Buy your popularity back," she instructed.
"Already did."
"Hmm, it seems I taught you well," she gloated a little.
She finally had the chance to ask him a question that had been burning in the back of her mind since he did the powder trick. "And you fixed a race without Billy Kimber knowing?"
Thomas scoffed, picking his glass up to take another drink when she snatched it from him and threw it across the room, the glass shattering loudly. Thomas put his hands up to obstruct any blow she was going to deliver.
"Apparently, I didn't teach you well enough," Polly snapped. "Rule one: you don't punch above your weight."
Thomas sighed, agitated his whiskey was splattered on the filing cabinets behind him. Since he fixed the race a few weeks ago, he dreaded this conversation with Polly. He knew she bided her time until the horse lost, then would put her two shillings in. He scratched his bare arm before touching the bottle.
"Billy Kimber is there for the taking," he sighed, glancing at her.
"Says who?" she demanded, astounded he would be this idiotic.
"I ran this business for five years….," she began.
"Yea, while I was off fighting a war, remember that?" he reminded her. "I learned a few things over there. You strike when your enemy is weak. Besides," he said, rising from his seat. He spared a glance at his aunt before turning his back. "I thought you wanted to talk about family business."
Anger seeped into her body as Polly glared at Thomas. She couldn't believe him. It's no wonder he decided to not divulge his plans to anyone but himself. It was lunacy! First the guns, now this. She was afraid that he didn't listen to her and tossed the guns.
"Don't worry, I'll deal with it," she snapped, stalking off before turning around.
"Polly," Thomas began, leaning against a table. "If it's about Ada, I need to know."
Polly stared at him, contemplating on telling him the truth or giving him what he wanted to hear. She played with the strap on her handbag, knowing the contents inside. There was a letter written by Ada to give to Freddie. Polly and Ada knew Thomas would know a way to contact Freddie.
But she didn't have high hopes.
She could have gone to Mazella and asked her to hand off the letter, but from what she understood, Maze told Thomas to leave her the fuck alone until he could be civil to her. Not that she blamed the younger woman. Since his return from France, Thomas has bordered on nearly intolerable. She watched him scratch his arm again, but saw no bite mark or any sign that he'd been bitten.
He carried secrets.
Polly hated secrets.
She rolled the letter between her fingers. Inhaling, she plucked it from her handbag, holding it steady in her hands. "Ada," she said, walking over to her nephew, "wants you to give this letter to Freddie."
Thomas watched his aunt with interest. He knew she was hiding something from him. He never wanted to omit his plans to her, but he knew she would react like this. She didn't understand his drive, his want for more. Was it so fucking hard to understand that he wanted to be legitimate? The curse on their family made it hard to stay on the right path.
He was tired of not having the best. He was right when he told her to strike at their enemy when they were at their weakest. Thomas knew Billy Kimber's weakness. Kimber needed help, and he was there, waiting for the right moment. What his family didn't know was that he planned this years ago. The war prevented him from taking over sooner.
"Ada wants to let Freddie know she's carrying his child," Polly said, setting the envelope on the table amidst the coin and paper. "She wants to give him the chance to do the right thing."
Thomas looked at the envelope sitting on the table. He didn't want Freddie as part of this family, but he knew his sister and the unborn child needed a father. Just not Freddie. He picked it up, twirling it between his hands, looking down at it. The corner of the envelope scratched his fingers, relieving them of the itch.
"What do you think Freddie sees in our Ada?"
"That's his business, isn't it?" Polly asked.
"No," Thomas cut her off before she could start rambling. "By being with Ada, he has a way into the family he's always longed to be with."
Now she needed to know, "What don't you like about Freddie?"
"Polly. She'll have no life with a man on the run. He's a Communist. Governments are looking for them in droves. If they find him and she's with him, they'll take her, too. No questions asked. She'll be branded as a Communist supporter, or worse."
"No man will ever be good enough for her, is that it?" Polly snarked.
"Not even I would be good enough for her," Thomas retorted.
"What about Mazella?" Polly asked, treading dangerous territory. "And why are you scratching?" she asked, unable to stop herself.
Thomas' head snapped up, looking at her, his eyes changing to amber, "She's not part of this conversation and it's nothing." he paused, looking at the envelope again. "If you can't see that, you don't see much at all."
With that, he dropped the envelope on the coal-burning stove, letting it fall into the flames as Polly grabbed a poker to hit him with.
"Damn them for what they did to everyone in France," she snapped, throwing the poker against the stovepipe. It clanged loudly before falling to the floor. "Out of all of you that came home, Mazella's the only one that hasn't bordered on intolerable!" Polly spun on her heel and stormed around the table, fury sweeping her hotly.
"Tell Ada he left. I don't care where he went, just tell her," Thomas ordered his aunt, ignoring the jab about Maze.
She growled softly at him, her eyes blazing with anger as Polly stormed around the table, grabbing her handbag and coat. He watched her from the corner of his eye until she was fully in front of him. "She'll have no life bringing a baby into this world, you know that!"
He shouted once more at her as she stormed out of the Betting house, leaving him alone with his thoughts and his anger.
Days later, when Thomas awoke, he found a box sitting on the dirty floor in front of his front door. Suspicious of the contents, he gingerly picked it up and brought it inside his flat. He didn't hear ticking, and it felt heavy, making him rule out a weapon of sorts. He found a small knife minutes later and sliced through the seal. As he cut the box open, he set the knife down and peered inside.
It was a book.
Not just any book. He groaned, realizing what it was. The Grimoire. Cursing, he closed the box roughly and debated on whether to drop it off at Polly's or keep it. He couldn't burn it. The curse was permanent and one of his future descendents would need it. Sighing in frustration, he reached back into the box and picked up the book.
Moving away from the box, he sat down on his bed and opened the book to the first page. Some time in the past fifty years, they translated the book to English, making it easier for him to read. His pale blue eyes skimmed the contents to find what he was looking for. A knock on the door interrupted his investigation. Closing the book, he tucked it under his pillow and headed out to find out what was happening.
Thomas stood in front of Maze's house several days later. Since the day the Grimoire came to him, he hadn't had a chance to read it. A light drizzle of rain began to fall, wetting his hat. It wasn't the first time he'd walked past her house, contemplating if he could keep his temper in check with her. His anger with Ada was consuming him now, but his anger with Maze hurt. His arm itched under his woolen overcoat.
Underneath his coat, his skin itched. It hadn't stopped itching for the past several days now. He looked at the house, wondering if she'd let him inside. The question Polly asked him concerning Maze during their row bothered him.
He knew he wasn't a good man. He'd done things he wasn't proud of, but did them anyway. Maze didn't care what he did. Thomas refused to tell her anything other than basic knowledge. He couldn't compromise her in any form.
Inhaling, he walked across the street and down the small walkway she had installed since she returned to knock on her door. He waited patiently for a few minutes before he heard the locking mechanism click.
His breath caught as the door opened, revealing Maze. The rain fell harder the longer he stood there.
"Are you going to be civil to me?" she asked, arching an eyebrow at him.
He nodded, "I am. May I come inside?"
She considered his words and nodded, stepping aside and letting him in. He didn't expect the overpowering aroma of her to consume his senses. His skin flamed as his breathing changed. The ever present wolf in his head howled loudly, forcing him to step close to her. She must have sensed a change in him because she stepped away from him.
In seconds, he had her pushed against the wall closest to the front door. His hands gripped the softness of her dress before giving her hips a squeeze. He lowered his head to breathe her in, forcing her to arch her neck, her face toward the ceiling.
"Th—Thomas?" she stuttered, unlike herself.
He growled low in his throat as his hands continued to squeeze her hips gently. His cheek brushed against hers, reliving some of the itching.
"Thomas, what are you doing?" she gasped, feeling his lips close to her jugular.
"I need to feel you," he mumbled, one of his hands sliding up the side of her neck and tangled into her dark tresses, jerking her head back and exposing her neck to him.
He couldn't stop himself. Her scent of springtime and lemon bombarded him until he couldn't think straight. He needed to touch her, touch all of her. Her soft, supple body arched against his, making his cock swell in his trousers.
Maze couldn't breathe as Thomas' hands roamed over her body, but stayed in appropriate places. It had been too long since a man touched her body that it flared hotly. When his hand slid down her thigh to bunch the skirt, pulling it up high, she swore and placed her hands on his chest.
Thomas buried his head in her crook of her neck, inhaling her deeply. He wanted his scent all over her. He wanted everyone to know that she was off limits. Before he could stop himself, his tongue caressed the supple skin of her neck, his teeth begging him to bite her.
"Stop, Thomas," she muttered, placing her hands on his chest, trying to push him back.
He grunted, his mind exploded, finally tasting her skin. It was something he fantasized about for years but denied himself ever tasting her. His amber-colored eyes rolled in the back of his head as his body shuddered.
"Thomas!" Maze shouted, pushing at him again.
This time, he let her step past him. He didn't see where she went, but heard a door slam somewhere in the house. Cursing himself, he punched the wall she occupied seconds ago. Her scent lingered, the taste of her skin teased his tongue, and he found himself in a sort of hell. He wanted to find her and continue his exploration of her body, but forced himself to stop.
Minutes ticked by as he waited for her to come out of the room she hid herself in. The double door to the parlor opened with a slight crack. His body lurched, inhaling her again.
"Are you going to behave?" she asked, leaning against the door, her body facing the sofa.
He grunted, his eyes closing as he tried to gain control over himself. Thomas didn't want to fight the wolf for dominance. He conquered that feat years ago. "Yes," he whispered.
"You know I won't let you in the parlor, right?"
He chuckled at her silliness. If he wanted into the room, he would, regardless of if she barred the door. He listened to her heart beating furiously and smelled her arousal for him through the wooden door. It excited him.
"Come here," she demanded.
He followed her command and stood in front of the door, hoping she would open it all the way for him. He saw her, from the small crack, slide down to sit on the floor. Thomas raised an eyebrow, shaking his head before he did the same. He laid his back against the door and sighed. A small hand reached out from the other side of the door to tease his pinky finger.
He looked down to see a decorated fingernail caress his pinky finger.
"Since you're here," she began softly. He could tell she was unsure of what to say or how to approach him. "Do I get to talk now?"
"Yes."
"I'm not leaving Small Heath, Thomas." she began quietly. "When I arrived home, I slowly made my way to the house. It was empty. It wasn't unusual for the house to be empty. I walked through the portal, Thomas shaken with the images that bombarded my brain. I don't think I made it to my room," she paused, closing her eyes, remembering. "Heather arrived a few minutes later and found me sobbing in the hallway. To this day, I'm not sure how I got to the office."
She paused for a moment, letting her words sink in. "After the physical assessment, they wanted me to leave."
Alarm bells rang in his head. Thomas felt panic creep into his chest, squeezing it painfully. He choked back a breath of air, closing his eyes. The thought of her leaving him….he shook his head roughly, trying to shake the thoughts. Thomas turned his head to see her through the small crack between the two doors. "Who did?"
"My bosses. They didn't think I could handle the pressure of continuing in my state. I knew I wasn't right in the head. Do you know," she began, choking up as tears slipped down her face. "I requested they suppress the memory of my meeting with them about my true assignment."
"What was your assignment?" he asked, smelling her tears through the crack. His heart clenched at her awaiting words.
"I was to join the war as a nurse. To record it all from a first person view. I wore special recording lenses to capture everything."
He swallowed thickly. "Everything?"
"Everything, Thomas…."
"Why did you have them… suppress the memory of the meeting?" the words rolled over his tongue thick.
"Because I knew there was no way in a snowball's chance in hell, I would mentally survive it. When they told me, I almost had a panic attack. This time I was furious with myself. No one in their right mind would do this. None of us would have done what we did unless we were told to do so. We did what we did, and we came home."
"I spent the next several weeks in intensive therapy with Dr. Louden. It was him and Heather who came to my rescue. They told my bosses that I could go back, but I would still be under watch and I would still need therapy."
She sighed quietly, just as he did.
"Thanks to them, I get to come back but with conditions…"
"What conditions?" he asked, relieved that she wasn't leaving him. Relieved that two people he didn't know stood up for her and declared her fit enough to come back to him.
"At least, for now, I'm not allowed to travel except to my flat. No more time jumping for me until I return," she whispered, twisting her body until she leaned against the door with her shoulder. Maze rested her head on the door and closed her eyes. "If you had let me explain this weeks ago…."
"We wouldn't have fought," Thomas finished, closing his eyes in resignation. "Did you want to go home?"
"No. The thought of leaving you would crush me." she whispered.
His heart ached hearing her words. He lowered his head, feeling like a bastard for treating her the way he did. Thomas knew there wasn't an excuse for his behavior. He accepted her story as truth, but the anger lingered in the back of his mind.
"Am I allowed to see you again?" he asked, his voice trying to be light.
She smiled. "Yes, you can see me again."
He left her house a few minutes later, his heart heavy. The words 'the thought of leaving you would crush me' played through his mind like a broken record. Shoving his hands in his trouser pockets, he walked slowly toward the Garrison where he desperately needed a drink. He never saw Grace watching him from her perch as he walked toward the pub, alone.
Inside, he sat down in his usual spot with a bottle of Irish whiskey staring at him. He looked at the bottle for a minute before opening it. He forgo'd the glass sitting beside the bottle and placed it to his lip, tipping it back.
He felt like getting drunk today.
