Rain fell, hitting the roof of the car as Thomas Shelby sat waiting on Maze to return home. Smoke billowed around him as he leaned his arms on the steering wheel, watching her house. Polly informing him of Freddie's arrest earlier that night disturbed him. It confirmed his suspicions about Grace's probable involvement, but he didn't have the proof that she called the coppers, letting them know exactly where Freddie Thorne would be that night.

Thomas sighed heavily, placing the cigarette between his lips. He didn't bloody understand why his brothers didn't keep their fucking mouths shut around Grace. He remembered his own words to Grace about alcohol reducing men to confess. In other situations, John and Arthur would have controlled what they said, but around barmaids, their lips loosened. It made his blood boil in his veins how careless his own brothers had been.

Polly's reaction didn't surprise him. He expected her anger and discontent over Freddie's arrest. She championed Ada and Freddie's relationship, despite knowing they should have left sooner. His brothers left the pub shortly after Polly's departure and returned to their own homes, leaving him with Grace. Thomas refused to look at her, nor accept comfort.

A dark figure emerged from the opposite direction. From his distance, he could tell it was Maze finally returning home after the eventful night they had. Relief swelled in him seeing her unharmed by the coppers. Tossing the cigarette out of the car, he opened the door and stepped out into the rain. Thomas waited until she entered the house, dim lights illuminating through the windows before he slipped around to the back of the house to enter through the kitchen. He placed a hand on the doorknob, briefly wondering how angry she was with him.

Quietly, he twisted the handle and pushed the door opened before closing it. The kitchen was dark except for a barely lit gas lamp. He didn't need full light to see where he was going. His heart stuttered when she walked into the kitchen, shaking the rain from her hair when she spotted him standing there by the back door.

Thomas remained silent as she eyed him, turning the knob on the gas lamp up, brightening the room. He removed his hat, wringing it between his damp hands as she stopped on the opposite side of the table. He inhaled, smelling the aroma of past food cooked and her perfume. His eyes followed as she moved again to pick up the kettle, filling it with water before setting it on the wood stove. She threw wood inside the stove, looking at it before closing the door. Maze removed a cup from a shelf, setting it on the table.

The silence between them was deafening. Thomas watched her for a second, wondering when she would start yelling at him like Polly had done. When his mate made no sign she was in the mood to yell, he opted to speak first.

"Are you going to speak to me?" he asked quietly.

He heard her sigh softly from across the table. When she turned her head to him, he could see her tired, red-rimmed eyes. "It's been a long night, Thomas."

He twisted the hat again, mindful of the razor blades sewn in. "I had no idea…."

"Did you?" she spun around to face him, her anger escalating. She couldn't believe the nerve of him. "It's curious, Thomas, that the night you call truce, that Freddie could see his wife and child, he's arrested."

"I didn't…"

"Really?" she snapped, slapping her hand on the table between them.

Her attitude angered him. He strode further into the kitchen, anger clearly written on his face. Of all the people in his life, she was supposed to be the one to believe him. Not to argue with him. He removed his coat, tossing it and the hat on the table beside the empty teacup.

"Maze…" he started when she turned away from him.

Another wave of anger rushed through him. Grabbing her by the wrist, he stopped her and jerked her back toward him. Walking her backwards to the wall beside the kitchen dresser, he trapped her between himself and the wall. She couldn't escape him, and he needed her to listen to him. Thomas needed her to believe that he had nothing to do with Freddie's arrest. He pushed her arms behind her back, trapping her wrists in one hand while his free hand hugged her hip.

She struggled against him, her dark eyes locked on his blue ones. "You don't get to be angry with me," he mumbled, giving her hip a squeeze.

"I watched the coppers drag Freddie away," she hissed at him. "I listened to him plead with them…"

"And I told you," he repeated angrily, raising his voice, "I didn't do this."

That was the second time he'd said that, but Maze wasn't willing to listen. "Who did it?" Maze snapped angrily, her eyes narrowing at Thomas.

"I can't say," he started, ignoring her huff at him.

"Why not?" she egged him, straining her body against his. Hot shocks caressed her body, feeling him so close. Her wrists ached, but it wasn't painful. If she wasn't careful, her body would betray her.

"I don't have fucking proof!" he bellowed at her, his carefully constructed demeanor slipping.

Maze snorted in disbelief, her anger overriding her common sense. "You know how suspicious it looks that he…."

"Enough, Maze!" Thomas ordered loudly, his eyes flashed amber as he squeezed her wrists tighter. Her mouth dropped open as he squeezed tighter.

"Don't…." she opened her mouth to start, feeling his hand cup the side of her head, his thumb brushing over her lower lip.

"Don't what?" he muttered, his lips grazing hers. His nose twitched, inhaling her arousal. Thomas grunted softly as he let himself fall into her cocoon of desire. He shifted his feet, his cock thickening in his trousers.

Her body curved into his as a jolt of pleasure came over her. She tried to stay angry with him as his hand slid down the back of her dress, moving around her trapped wrists, until it reached her arse, giving it a squeeze.

It angered her he could easily sway her emotions. One second she was angry with him about Freddie's arrest and next she wilted against his seductive nature. She wanted to stay angry with him. She could see a faint hint of red on his cheek where he'd been struck, probably by Polly. Maze could easily give him another handprint on the other cheek for this. It should worry her he held this kind of power over her.

"Don't…" she tried again, a moan escaped her lips, feeling his lips press against her jugular.

His eyes shifted amber, feeling her struggle against him. Her struggle excited him, and he fucking wanted her. Her arousal swam around him like a whirlwind. Giving her trapped wrists a squeeze, he felt her body press into his as she feebly tried to stay angry with him. Lowering his head to her throat, he kissed the thumping jugular vein, hearing her moan. Her weak attempts at forcing him to stop urged him to push her a little more.

"Don't what, Maze?" his voice was low, his lips brushing against hers again before pressing on hers firmly. Lost in their kiss, he released his grip on her hands and felt her relax against him.

"Don't fucking yell at me," she gasped, finally finding her voice.

He grunted, capturing her lips again before walking her backwards out of the small kitchen and up the stairs to her room.

The next morning as he left Maze's, he cursed, remembering leaving his car parked outside her house. Hoping that no one saw him climb into the vehicle, he checked the gauges before getting out to give the handle a few turns. He would have left the car sitting there and retrieving it later, but there would be questions. Questions he didn't want to answer.

With a quick stop by his flat, he changed his shirt and coat before locking the door and leaving. Freddie's incarceration worried him that Campbell's plan of finding the guns was close at hand. Freddie kept himself and Ada hidden for this long, but Freddie was still found.

Thomas didn't voice his suspicion to Maze about Grace's involvement, at least not yet. He wasn't sure how she would take the information. Out of everyone involved, Maze would be the one to ask the right questions and possibly believe him. He parked the car at the gate of the cemetery and climbed out. No one was around to see him push the wrought-iron gate open; the stillness of the dead comforted him. He walked up the hill to Danny's resting spot.

It had been a bit of genius when he suggested hiding the guns in Danny's grave, knowing that Danny was in London, working for him. He feared that since Campbell arrested Freddie, he might have found the guns. A cool breeze filtered by him, ruffling his overcoat as he shoved his hands in his trouser pockets, walking toward the empty grave.

Stopping in front of the circle and cross grave marker with Danny's name etched on it, he saw the ground wasn't disturbed. Relief washed over him, standing there looking at the ground. Leaving the way he came, he returned to the car and drove back to town. He wanted a drink and breakfast. He needed time to plan.

Polly walked down the wet sidewalk as the rain poured. In her basket, she carried fresh bread and eggs for the new mother. It hurt her deeply that Ada sequestered herself in that little basement room with Karl, refusing to accept help from anyone. Since the night of Freddie's arrest, Polly refused to speak to Thomas.

Everyone in the family refused to speak to Thomas other than business. She wasn't sure how much Mazella knew, but was confident the younger woman was just as angry. Watching Ada's happiness devolve into despair in a matter of seconds tore at her heart. But just like the rest of the family, Polly refused to believe Thomas or listen to his side of the story. It wasn't practical of her, but she let her emotions take the lead on this.

As she journeyed, she contemplated the surprises that showed. John's abrupt change in wives caught her by surprise. Polly figured Thomas had a hand in changing John's prospective wife of Lizzie to Esme. From what she witnessed over the past week, Esme was settling in well with her new home, but the new wife kept to herself learning the way of running her own house. As she walked down the sidewalk, she smiled to herself, hoping that Ada would accept this basket of food.

She stopped in front of a black door and twisted the handle to push the heavy door open. Inside, she shook her umbrella off, the water droplets splashing on her skirt as she leaned it against the nearby wall. Polly sighed and walked down the narrow steps, balancing the basket on one arm. She stopped at the door and looked down, seeing two baskets filled with half rotten food.

Another sigh escaped her lips seeing the basket she left a few days prior. The other basket, she wasn't sure about. Possibly Maze trying to help her close friend in her time of need. A quiet knock on the door a second later echoed in the narrow hallway. Polly leaned against the door, hoping that Ada would open the door for her finally.

"Open up, love," Polly cajoled, hearing the baby cry. When the door didn't open, she plastered a smile on her face that didn't bring her joy. "I've brought you items for you and the baby. Fresh eggs and bread."

She paused, waiting to see if her stubborn niece would open the door and accept help. When she heard nothing but the baby cry again, "Ada…..," her tone changing to authority, "think of the baby." When the door didn't open, Polly sighed heavily. Frustrated, she picked up the rotten basket of food to deposit it somewhere before going back to the house.

The one person she didn't wish to see was Thomas standing there waiting for her in the parlor when she arrived home. For the past several days, she refused to speak to him, believing that he turned Freddie into the coppers. It never occurred to her to actually listen to his side of the story. To find out if he was telling her the truth or not, though with how he kept things a secret from herself and the family, she wasn't sure if she could spot him lying.

Thomas leaned against the wall and watched as Polly slammed the rotten basket of food down on the table before walking into the kitchen to set something down. He wouldn't admit it, but it hurt to see his baby sister refuse help. Heading into the kitchen, she did her best to ignore him.

"Did you speak to her?"

"She didn't speak back," Polly snapped coldly, making noise in the kitchen.

Frustrated with her attitude and lack of understanding, Thomas sighed. "Did you tell her it wasn't me?"

Polly scoffed from the kitchen. "I'll only tell her what I know to be true, Thomas." She picked up a teakettle, filled it with water and stomped into the parlor, setting the kettle on the grate to heat.

"This is the last time I'm going to say this," Thomas pushed, frowning that he kept trying to prove his innocence.

Polly spun around sharply to face her nephew, "Tommy, I'd ask you to swear on the Bible, but you can't do that, can you?"

When he didn't respond to her question, she narrowed her eyes at him. Angrily, she turned and walked out of the house, leaving Thomas in the house alone.

Thomas said nothing as his aunt stormed out of the house, barely refraining from slamming the door. There was one person who would believe him, but the last time he tried to speak to her, it ended with him in Maze's bed. He told her he didn't know who gave away Freddie's location because he didn't have proof. Maybe he should speak to her and let her mind help.

Pushing himself off the wall, he grabbed his overcoat and left the house quieter than Polly did a few minutes ago. He would speak to Maze, then carry on for the day. He needed to figure out how to spring Freddie from jail and back in the arms of his sister and her child.

As Thomas strolled down the Lane, he knew he would have to find Maze. His feet led him to her house, where he hoped she would be. When he arrived, he growled low, sensing she wasn't there. Now it would become a hunt to find her. An excitement grew in his chest, despite his frustration, of hunting her down. When he found her, he would have to restrain himself from fucking her as a reward.

Turning away from her house, he ventured to the busier part of the city. He winced at the overpowering stench of human and waste. Ahead, he caught the sight of St. Martin's church. The church bell rang loudly, indicating the hour. The sky became overcast the closer he got to the Bullring. He hoped he would find her there. As he walked further into the busy part of the city, he ignored the offers from young girls selling flowers to the overpowering stench of the meat market.

Thomas sighed, knowing he could have made it easier on him to find her if he'd asked or waited until she arrived home later that day. There were too many humans milling around to properly find her. Continuing his walk, he found her walking out of a boot store, a woven basket hanging on her arm. Thomas watched from a distance as she wandered around small barefoot children running down the street and entered a draper's shop. Quickening his step, he peered into the draper's shop a minute later, seeing her standing in front of a shelf with sewing items. He watched as she pulled several spools of thread and examine them before walking to the counter to purchase.

Thomas leaned against the side of the building, fishing a cigarette from his jacket and lighting it quickly. A puff of smoke billowed above him as he waited patiently. What he wanted to speak to her about wasn't for human ears. He didn't want to chance someone overhearing him speak about his suspicions. Thomas was absorbed in his thoughts that he almost missed Maze walking out of the draper's shop.

Pushing himself off the building, he followed her until he walked beside her. "I need to speak with you," he said quickly, catching her attention.

"Hello to you too, Thomas," Maze smiled at him, slowing her step. She hadn't expected to see him so soon, but his prescene was welcomed. As they walked, she could feel his impatience. "What do you need to speak to me about?"

Thomas paused his walking and turned to her. Maze lifted an eyebrow at his hesitation. He jerked the cigarette from his lips and tossed it on the dirty ground, and shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. He looked around, hoping no one noticed they'd stop to chat. "It's about what happened the night John married," he said evasively.

"I'm not angry with you…" she began, thinking this was what he was implying.

"It's not that," he said shortly, shifting his feet.

Maze huffed at him. She hated when he was evasive about his wording. "Then what…" she began and yelped quietly when he grabbed her gently by the elbow and lead her to a narrow alleyway. Maze jerked her arm gently away from his grip and looked at him questioningly.

"You know," she muttered, "you don't have to drag me into an alleyway. What is going on?"

"It's about my suspicion about Grace."

"What about it, Thomas?" Maze asked impatiently.

"She was there… at the Garrison listening in," he began haphazardly. He sighed, shifting his feet before trying again. "John and Arthur were drinking while she was in the room when John let it slip that Freddie would be at the house for his child's birthing."

Maze's mouth dropped open slightly, but she closed it quickly. "Jesus fucking Christ," Maze muttered. "And where the fuck were you?" she demanded, shifting the heavy basket around.

Thomas raised an eyebrow at her, cocking his head to the side at her words. "I was at the bar, listening in. I got there too late but tried to diffuse the situation… slightly."

"It didn't work apparently," Maze countered. "How did she get the information to the coppers?"

"There's a telephone in the pub. She had it installed weeks ago when she signed the contract to work for me," he explained. "You see, I didn't let it slip about Freddie's whereabouts. The fucking barmaid did," he spat angrily.

Maze mulled over this information. Alcohol and loose lips. She presumed it never occurred to John nor Arthur they were the culprits. Maze rubbed her eyes with her free hand and exhaled. This was a complete cock up. "No one believed you?"

"No one is fucking speaking to me," he replied gruffly. "Maze, you can't tell anyone about this." When she opened her mouth to protest, he stopped her. "I mean it. I don't have proof she called the coppers and turned Freddie in."

Maze exhaled, cursing in her head. "What do you want me to do about it because you know someone is going to ask me? Everyone in this family knows you confide in me."

"Tell them nothing."

A quiet knock on the front door caught Polly's attention as she smoothed her dress and walked to the front door, opening to see Maze standing there. It was their weekly tea time and Maze was on time, as usual. Stepping aside, she let the younger woman inside and out of the rain.

Maze gave Polly a grateful smile as she stepped inside the Shelby house and removed her coat and hat, draping the damp coat over her arm, and followed Polly further into the parlor. Maze and Polly sat down as Polly busied herself by pouring each of them tea.

Silence descended on the two ladies as they fixed their tea to their liking. Maze blew gently on the hot tea before taking a sip. As she sat her hot tea cup down, she looked up at Polly. "How's Ada?"

Polly shook her head, "She's not talking to anyone. Was that your basket I saw at her front door?"

Maze nodded at the woman she considered family. "It is. I'd hoped she would take the basket for her and the baby."

"You and me both."

Maze hoped Polly wouldn't bring up Thomas during their tea time. Thomas stopped her at the Bullring and confessed what he didn't a few days prior. That who he believed gave up Freddie, but made her swear not to speak a word to anyone until he gained the proof. She agreed, but understood that it might cause discord between her and his family.

"Did you talk to Tommy?" Polly asked, setting her tea down and placing her hands on her lap. Her eyes shifting around the room until it landed on her purse where her gun was and hoped they wouldn't argue. Polly wasn't above using intimidation to get the information she wanted.

Maze paused, reaching for her teacup and lowered her arm until it landed gently on her lap. She looked down at the teacup before casting her eyes at Polly.

"I did."

"What tale did he give you?" Polly asked, tapping her foot gently on the floor.

She wished he hadn't made her swear not to speak a word about his suspicions. "I-," Maze inhaled sharply, her fingers playing gently with the handle on the teacup.

"What did he tell you?" Polly asked again. "That he didn't do it, right?" Polly leaned back into the chair, frustration written on her face at Maze's reluctance to speak about the issue.

"I-," Maze moistened her chapped lips, her heart pounding in her chest. She despised confrontations. "I can't say."

"I might have guessed," Polly snapped, rising from her chair and crossing the room. "He tells you not to say something and you listen to him every time."

"I'm sorry Polly," Maze tried apologizing.

"Don't bother apologizing," Polly fumed at the younger woman. "You can't mean it if you're listening to Tommy."

"That's-,"

"It's always been that way between you two," Polly muttered.

"I will betray no one's confidence, Polly," Maze shot back, her anger growing at the woman.

Polly scoffed, shaking her head at Maze.

"Do you think so little of me?" Maze asked, rising from her chair. It was clear tea time was over.

Polly turned her head away from Maze, her fingers playing on the clasp of her purse. "But you know he did it, don't you? He's been hunting Freddie for months…."

"He's been trying to make Freddie and Ada leave for months, Polly." Maze bristled.

"Quit trying to defend him! You know he's a fucking liar, Mazella." Polly ranted. "Don't be stupid."

That rankled her. Maze hated being called stupid, and she hated when someone used her full name. Crossing her arms across her chest, Maze glared heatedly at Polly.

"You don't know that, Polly. Have you tried asking him, or are you still shouting at him?" Maze asked, shaking her head.

Quick as a snake, Polly reached into her purse and pulled her Webley out, aiming it at Maze. In her fury at how the younger woman evaded her questions, she pulled her gun on her.

"Get out," Polly said softly, her voice cold. "If you're going to continue to defend Tommy, I want you out."

Maze's heart stopped for a mere second before restarting. Never once in all her years knowing any of the Shelby's had anyone pulled a gun on her. Hell, even in the future, no one pulled a gun on her.

"Forgive me," Maze cleared her throat, "I can't seem to stay." Giving Polly one more look, Maze backed away from Polly before turning around to retrieve her coat and hat. Setting the hat on her head askewly, she slipped on the coat and left the Shelby house. Her heart broke as she walked down the busy sidewalk, ignoring the people passing by her.

She didn't miss the look in Polly's eyes when she aimed the gun at her. Polly's heart was shattered by the dissonance in her family and she was asking Maze to help her fix things. Maze took a large breath, tightened the belt around her overcoat and kept walking until she reached her house. Inside, she collapsed against the door and removed her hat slowly, wondering why things had to be complicated.

Thomas walked into the Garrison after learning about the row between Polly and Maze. He was angry that his aunt pulled a gun on his mate, but said nothing else on the matter, especially when Maze claimed it as 'women's business'. She promised that once things cooled down, she would attempt to apologize to Polly. The fact that she couldn't discuss it with Polly is what started the row to begin with.

His anger toward Grace kept him from the pub for the past several days. Arthur was settling in well, running the pub, but Thomas would check in from time to time. The pub was quiet for the afternoon, as many men were still working. It would become busier the closer the day ended.

He found Grace sitting in the office, pouring over a large ledger. He watched her for a moment before she saw him. Thomas wondered why she would give up Freddie's location. He couldn't afford to ask her because if he did, she would lie to him again.

"There's tea," Grace said, looking up to see him standing there.

Thomas dismissed tea and walked over to the desk, and looked at the ledger. "A new system?"

"Yes, it's far more efficient," she said, looking up at him.

Thomas snatched a spare pen beside the ledger and drew a black star on Decemeber 3rd date for the next month. He tossed the pen aside as Grace looked at it before looking up at him in confusion.

"A black star?" Grace asked, with confusion. "What does that mean?"

"Black Star day," Thomas said slowly, keeping his eyes on the ledger and not Grace. "It's the day I take down Billy Kimber." He flicked his eyes toward her. "No one knows this."

"Not even your family?" she asked quietly, honored that she was the first person to know.

Thomas scoffed heavily and turned away from her. "My family hates me right now. Why would I tell them?" He opened the door, taking one last glance at her before closing it loudly behind him.

As he walked away from the office and Grace, he rubbed his hands together, feeling an uneasiness come over him. He stepped out into the cold, shivering a little as he did, and began his journey. When he wrote the black star in Grace's ledger, he noted that the day was the seventh.

The full moon would rise tonight, giving him a chance to run off the frustration and anger that bottled inside him. Maybe he'd kill something, completely destroy it. Removing a cigarette from his coat pocket, he lit it quickly and walked to Polly's. He hoped to avoid a confrontation with her before the night's run.

When his brothers didn't speak to him before, the full moon run cemented the fact that his family hated him for the Freddie situation. If only they understood the plausible conclusion, he came too. They would see it as him trying to pin the blame on someone, and the fact it was a woman he was blaming wouldn't go over well.

Maze listened to him, thankfully. She didn't disagree with him that Grace's questions couldn't have been interpreted as her being nosy, but with two drunken men; the questions seemed innocent. HIs mate offered to ask Grace a few questions, but he put a stop to it, reminding her that if Maze spoke about it, then Grace would become suspicious.

And he didn't need Grace to become suspicious.