A sudden chilly breeze filtered by Maze as she stood in front of the door to the Shelby house. Tightening her overcoat, she shivered underneath the wool. There were days, like today, made her wish she was in the future where it was summer. Maze took a steadying breath and knocked quickly on the blackened front door. She hoped Polly was inside and would consent to talk to her. The pang of their argument weeks ago wore on her mind. She wanted to tell Polly the truth, but couldn't.
It's not that she didn't want to confess to Polly, she did, but Thomas made her swear not to speak a word until he gained proof. Maze understood his reasoning. No need to cause confusion and discord when it was only indirect evidence. It still made things difficult for her. The day in the art museum gave Thomas the proof he was looking for, but he still couldn't run to his family without the proof that Grace was the spy.
She sighed heavily, shifting her feet from side to side as she waited for someone to recognize there was knocking at the door. Though she had been a family friend for years, it never occurred to her she could walk into the house without knocking. Rocking gently on her heels, she clutched her purse tightly in her hands.
Thomas had told her the family wasn't speaking to him, but couldn't avoid him when it came to business. She hoped that wasn't the case for her. Maze wanted to apologize to Polly for far too many things, but she would start with the easiest. As she waited, a horse neighed behind her as people moved up and down the Lane.
Maze refused to think about the day Thomas confessed to his family about the two of them. How they kept their relationship a secret from everyone. If the tables were turned, she'd be furious. She expected a full-fledge argument, with shouting, when the Shelby's finally learned about herself and Thomas. The issue with Freddie Thorne needed to be cleared up, and soon. Maze could tell it bothered Thomas.
The door swung open as Finn stood there, looking up at her. "Is Polly around?" she asked the youngest Shelby.
"Aye, she is," Finn said, stepping aside to let her in before racing out the door, calling out a name.
Maze turned her head to watch the youngest Shelby run off, laughing. Turning her head back to the opened door, she steeled herself; she walked in, removed her hat, gloves, and coat before walking into the parlor. Tucking the coat close to her, she looked around, spotting Polly sitting in a chair with a newspaper in front of her. Maze was eternally grateful the Shelby women did not carry the curse, lest Polly know of her nervousness.
"What are you doing here?" Polly asked, not lifting her eyes from the newspaper.
Maze took a step further into the room, but stopped as Polly arched an eyebrow at her. She sighed internally, but was thrilled that Polly hadn't thrown her out of the house yet. "I'm here to talk."
Polly lowered the corner of the newspaper, her eyes shifting over the younger woman. Maze sincerely wished she could tell what Polly was thinking. Maze waited as Polly decided to let her speak or throw her out. "Come in."
Giving the older woman a vigilant smile, she stepped into the parlor and took a seat across from Polly. Smoothing out her skirt, she looked around, awkwardly wondering how she should start this.
"If you're going to talk, then talk," Polly instructed, lowering the paper to the table and folding it before setting it aside. She clasped her hands in front of, resting her chin on her folded fingers and looked at Maze expectantly.
"I'm sorry," Maze began, fiddling with a button on her coat.
Polly arched an eyebrow but said nothing.
Maze sighed, realizing that wasn't enough of an apology. "I am sorry for not telling you what Thomas told me in private about Freddie's arrest."
"That's better," Polly said curtly. She pursed her lips, flicking her eyes over the woman in front of her. "I am sorry for pulling a gun on you."
"Polly, I don't want us to fight. Frankly, I can't stand arguing." Maze paused and wet her lips. "I know it angered you that I refused to tell you what Thomas told me. I don't even know if you know his suspicions."
"I do not, but that's not the full reason," Polly explained. "He's keeping secrets from the family and he told you something, making you promise not to tell any of us. I respect you won't talk, but if this information can affect the family, I need to know."
"I understand that," Maze replied evenly. She knew Thomas kept secrets from everyone. Part of her understood why he did it, but she knew if he told his family, they would be able to prevent information from slipping.
"Talk to him and see what he says," Maze prompted.
"Like he'd say anything." Polly scoffed, leaning back into her chair and gazing at Maze.
"You never know," Maze rose from her chair as the double doors to the Betting house opened, letting a stream of men out. She slipped on her overcoat and shoved her hands in her gloves. "I best be off. Thank you for listening."
Thomas pushed the door open to the house, shutting it quickly to keep the cold air out. He'd spoke to Polly mere minutes after her talk with Maze. It surprised him Polly was even speaking to him. She let him know that she and Maze apologized for the row last month. He understood Polly wasn't happy that Thomas was keeping secrets from the family and demanded nicely to know what Thomas told Maze.
Thomas balked at confiding in her about Grace's involvement with Inspector Campbell. Now the guns had been found; it was only a matter of time before Grace and the Inspector left his city. He decided he would inform her before he made his move on Billy Kimber.
Then she dropped the news that he didn't want to hear. Arthur tried hanging himself. Thomas inhaled sharply as another issue stepped into his life. He reasoned Arthur had many issues. Mainly that Thomas took over every aspect of their life without consulting Arthur's opinion about things. Arthur's opinion counted, but not with business. Hell, Thomas bought the Garrison for Arthur to run. It was to be Arthur's bit of involvement in the family business, but apparently Arthur wanted more.
As Polly informed Thomas about the missing five hundred pounds, he suspected their father's departure had something to do with Arthur's suicide attempt. Thomas wished he could cut the bastard he called father to pieces for stepping back into their lives and causing chaos.
But first, he had to deal with Arthur. Thomas figured Arthur wouldn't speak to him about what was really bothering him, but he could try. He pushed the backdoor of the kitchen open and walked in, hoping to find Arthur there. Thomas checked the church and Arthur's place, but didn't find him there. He found his older brother sulking by a lit fire. The tea kettle stayed warm as Arthur sulked. He said nothing as he walked further into the room and pushed aside Arthur's collar to see the red rope markings wrapped around his older brother's neck.
Removing his coat, he exhaled, wishing he was somewhere else, dealing with a different problem, but family came first. It always did.
"Polly told you?" Arthur asked dejectedly, slouching in the chair by the warm fire. His gaze never leaving the flames as Thomas sat down quietly beside him.
"Yup," he mumbled, taking a seat before reaching for the hot kettle to pour two cups of tea. The heat from the fire warmed his cool fingers as he set the kettle back down.
The fire was warm as he sat there gazing over his brother. He wondered what possessed him to attempt to kill himself. Arthur was slowly gaining everything he wanted. He even had his own pub to run! The only thing he didn't have was the power that Thomas seemed to possess. Power that Arthur tried to have, but never able to fully embrace because he didn't think far enough or was ambitious enough.
As they sat there quietly, absorbing in one another and the hot tea, Thomas could finally feel the anger and resentment that Arthur had toward him. It concerned him. Thomas knew that Arthur wanted both positions of power. Having the power of the Blinders would set his feet anywhere he wished in Birmingham and maybe one day elsewhere. The power of the Pack would give him the leadership role he longed for.
But he knew Arthur wasn't meant for power. At least not in a sense of him running things. Before Thomas took over, leadership with the Blinders was more of robbing and fighting. Thomas wanted more than fighting and robbing people. He wanted legitimacy. Something he knew that never crossed Arthur's mind.
It distressed him that Arthur wouldn't live up to the expectations that he set upon himself. Or he would find something completely the opposite of their life.
Thomas took a sip of the hot tea, eyeing his brother. "You should have used a gun."
If Thomas were to kill himself, it would be with a gun. He couldn't trust a rope or drugs to do it. A shot to the brain would be the quickest way to end things.
"Are you laughing at me, Tommy?" Arthur spat.
Thomas nodded sharply. "Yes."
Sullenly, Arthur turned away from his brother. It angered him that Thomas laughed instead of begging him to live. He wanted to be needed by everyone. He wanted everyone in the family to turn to him in times of crisis and decision making.
Thomas leaned forward, hoping to convey his message to his older brother. "Just when things are starting to go right," he began, a smile breaking over his face. "You go and do this. Don't you like fancy parties? Or um," he paused, hoping to find something Arthur fancied. "Champagne? Fast cars?"
Arthur said nothing, but glared at his younger brother before turning his attention back to the fire.
Setting his tea down sharply on the saucer, he reached into his pocket and retrieved a business card. "Your name on a business card…"
Intrigued, Arthur turned his head to look at the business card. "Shelby Brothers, Limited." He gingerly took the card from Thomas's fingers and peered at it closer. "Arthur Shelby, associate bookmaker."
He looked up at Thomas, wondering where this was going.
"I just had them picked up from the printers this morning," Thomas replied, ignoring Arthur's scoff. "You're one of three shareholders," he said, leaning forward as the warmth from the fire licked at his cool skin. "You, me, and John, and according to the law, we're equal partners."
Arthur considered this. Equal partnership in the family business that was now legitimate. It couldn't be better. He would finally find a way to stand his ground with Thomas. He enjoyed running the Garrison, but he wanted more. All the Shelby men wanted more, and now Arthur was the co-owner of a company. Though, he thought dejectedly; it was a company that Thomas started, not Arthur. The ugly realization nurtured his ever-growing resentment towards his younger brother.
"When did you do this?" Arthur demanded, setting the card down on the small table between them.
"Right after we bought the Garrison." Thomas sat his cooling tea down on the saucer. He looked at his brother, the red rope whelps disturbing them as they sat there talking. "We need a legitimate company to help filter the money coming in and it helps to hide the illegal business we deal in."
"But," Thomas said, eyeing his older brother warily. "Me and John quite fancy splitting your share, so next time, use a gun, man." Thomas replied, hiding his smile by taking a sip of the now cooling tea.
Arthur chuckled at his brother's words. He knew Thomas didn't wish for him to die. It was his brother's way of telling him he had something to live for. With the business intact, Arthur would have access to the fancy parties, fast cars and loose women. Everything he wanted, at least materially.
"Our men at the police station say the copper is leaving town. We're finally in the clear. No more copper breathing down our necks and making us worry at every turn. We're finally on our way up in the world, Arthur."
Chester Campbell closed the lid of the suitcase quietly and looked around the room he was using since his first day of arrival in Birmingham. He couldn't wait to get out of this decrepit city where the crime and heathens rang supreme. His personal mission wasn't over, at least not yet.
He sat the suitcase by the front door and walked out, locking it. Campbell reached into his coat pocket and procured a small slip of paper. Unfolding it, he read it again. It was the location of a small orchard on the outskirts of town that Maze Hawthorne frequently visited to collect apples during this time of year.
That was the place he would find her. He intended on hurting her like Grace hurt him. Grace would see Thomas Shelby as the criminal he was and come to her senses and rush back to Chester. She would see the error of her ways and find comfort in the stability that Chester could give her.
Then he would leave Maze Hawthorne broken, possibly dead.
As he stepped outside the building where his flat resided, he stepped back as the hackney stopped in front of him. Climbing inside, he patted the front pocket of his coat as he took his seat.
"Ms Hawthorne, I'm not sure that's safe," Jimmy said from his post at the bottom of the ladder.
Maze peered down at the man who had been her shadow for months now. Jimmy had been with her since the day Thomas learned of the bruise on her arm from the Inspector. While she protested ardently about the security, she found she came to enjoy Jimmy's presence.
Today she found herself deep in the orchard, digging and plucking apples. It was a quiet place where she could come and not be bothered. Jimmy waited patiently with a large basket, half full of apples, and watched her. When they were done picking the last of the apples, Maze wanted to pick a couple of pumpkins. It would be nice to have a pumpkin pie this season.
"Why not? It's not like I am going to fall if you're standing there," she called back from the top rung of the ladder. Truthfully, she was terrified of being so high up, but all the best apples were at the top of the tree.
"You could still fall and Tommy will have me head," he countered, setting the basket down.
She pursed her lips at him. "Then I'll tell him I am clumsy."
"He won't believe that," Jimmy said, shaking his head at her.
A truck pulling up interrupted their banter. Maze climbed down, clutching her apple filled apron tight and slowly made her way down the ladder. She dumped the apples in the basket and wiped her hands on the apron.
"Anyone you know?" she asked, watching as the truck parked with an abrupt halt.
"No," he said, watching the truck, "but it's probably nothing." He picked up the basket, grunting slightly at the weight. "I'll be back with another basket. You stay here. Call me if you need me."
Maze frowned at his instructions, but she knew he was under strict orders from Thomas. She wiped her hands again on the apron, keeping her hands busy. Looking around on the ground for any fallen apples that weren't half rotten, she picked up one to observe it. Little did she know someone was watching her.
A twig snapped from behind her. Maze turned slowly to see Inspector Campbell walking toward her. Instantly, she was on alert. Jimmy wasn't too far off if she needed to scream for him. From what she understood, Campbell preferred intimidation rather than brute force. She rubbed her arm surreptitiously, remembering the bruise the man had left earlier that year.
"Mazella Hawthorne. I knew I'd find you here," Campbell said, stopping a few feet from her.
"What do you want, Inspector?" Maze asked, wishing she'd asked for Jimmy's gun. She didn't trust the Inspector, and she was alone with the man, far from Thomas.
"Now, see, there isn't a need for hostility," Campbell smiled at her oily. "I came here to tell you I am leaving Birmingham."
"That's fine and all, but you didn't need to track me down."
"But I did," Campbell replied, taking another step toward her. "I wanted to stop and tell you I found Thomas Shelby in the company of Grace Burgess, the barmaid from the Garrison."
Maze eyed him warily, wondering where he was going with this.
"It's come to my attention that Grace has fallen in love with Thomas and I can't have that. I want Grace. I want her for myself and I won't let her be swayed by a criminal."
"Then why don't you kidnap her and run away together, hmm?" Maze crossed her arms protectively, earning a glare from Campbell.
He menacingly closed the last few steps between them. Instinctively, Maze stepped back, but found herself stopped by Campbell, grabbing her arm, forcing her to stop. She grunted, jerking her arm. "Let me go."
"I can't have that." He took the last few steps, pressing her firmly against the tree as his hand wrapped around her neck. "I need Grace to realize that Thomas Shelby is a monster that will have her killed. If I hurt you, then he will do something drastic to change her mind."
"You need professional help," Maze spat, pressing her hands on his chest to shove him away, to no avail.
He smiled evilly at her, squeezing her throat tighter. "I need you to be out of the way."
She gasped, her eyes wide as she struggled. Maze clamped her hands down on his forearm, her nails scratching against the coat he wore. Her eyes never left him as she mentally cursed the skirt she wore that day. It hindered her ability to fight back. With one swift move, he raised his hand and backhanded her across the face. Her face twisted to the left. She blinked as searing pain echoed in her head as her vision dimmed before coming back.
Maze opened her mouth to scream for Jimmy when she fell onto the damp grass and half rotten apples. She gasped loudly, forcing her body to accept air before looking up to see Jimmy standing in front of her. He clenched his fists tightly as he heaved in air. It was his duty to protect Maze from harm.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Campbell slowly rise to his feet, his hand reaching into his coat pocket and pulling his Webley and focusing his aim on Maze. She gasped, clutching her throat, and leaned back against the tree. She heard the gun cock as the cylinder turned and felt fear strike her. Campbell intended on killing her, if not maiming her.
She closed her eyes tightly and waited for the searing pain of the impact of the bullet in her body. The gunshot rang through the orchard loudly. She could hear heavy footsteps approach as she froze from fear. Opening her eyes slowly, she stifled a scream. Maze watched in horror, seeing Jimmy slump to his knees, holding his stomach.
"YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" Maze shouted, finally finding her voice. Hurriedly she crawled over to Jimmy, who fell over groaning from the pain. Grasping his body, she did her best to lower him to the dirt without injuring him.
"HEY! What's going on here?" a voice called from deep in the orchard, heavy footsteps getting closer.
This wasn't how he wanted it to go. She should be injured, not the man laying on the ground. Campbell turned to see people rushing toward them and with one last look he turned and ran toward the parked and running truck and climbed inside, the car peeling off as men chased it.
Maze rose on her knees and ripped Jimmy's shirt open to find his blood pooling from the gunshot in his stomach. She held a gag in seeing the blood gushing from the wound. Frantically, she ripped at her apron, grunting as the fabric ripped and pressed the dirty apron hard on the gunshot wound, hoping to stem the blood flow.
"You can't die on me, Jimmy," she pleaded through thick tears. "You can't... please!"
She lifted the fabric on the wound, wincing as his blood soaked through the apron and onto her hands. She shuddered in horror at seeing the blood on her hands and she felt faint. Shaking her head viciously, trying to shake away the memories of war, she heard Jimmy groan in pain when she pressed down on the wound again.
"Please... please…. please, don't die," she begged, leaning up to look into his dark eyes and placing a comforting hand on his cheek.
Jimmy rolled his head to look at her, his face paling rapidly from the blood loss. "At least you're safe," he gasped, blood bubbling from his lips one last time before life left his body.
Maze felt her blood roar in her ears, her heart pounding in her chest as she became lightheaded. "Noooooo!" she screamed, tears sliding down her face. "God, no…" she sobbed brokenly.
She shakily removed her hand from the blood-soaked apron and leaned back onto the damp ground, sobbing in her bloodied hands. Maze was unaware of the people standing around her in a semi-circle. She could hear shouting for someone to go to town… to find someone.
"Forgive me," she whispered brokenly in her hands as she sobbed in her bloodied hands.
There was a pounding on the Shelby front door that caught the attention of everyone in the Betting house. Thomas looked at Scudboat, giving him a sharp nod as every man retrieved a pistol if it was an ambush. The hardy built man walked cautiously toward the front door, his gun ready to shoot. Polly cursed at their caution and stopped him before she opened the door.
"Is Thomas Shelby in there?" the man gasped, seeing Polly standing there.
"Who's asking?"
"My name isn't important. Is he here?"
Thomas was in his office, working on a ledger, when he heard the pounding of the door. He paused his writing when he heard his name being called. Leaving the office quickly, he pushed his way through the crowd of men and past Polly. Thomas stopped in front of the red faced portly man.
"It's about your lady."
Everyone in the room could guess who the mysterious 'lady' was by Thomas's expression. He was afraid there would be questions later.
Thomas felt a tight knot of fear settle in his stomach. The wolf snarled gently in his mind at the thought of Maze being in danger. "What's happened?"
"You need to come with me now."
Thomas glanced at Polly and grabbed his coat. He could see the worry in her eyes as he slipped on his overcoat. Following the man out to the still running car, he climbed in the front seat as Arthur slid into the back. Thomas turned his head to see his older brother but said nothing, grateful for the company.
The man pushed his foot on the accelerator and drove quickly down the road.
"What's going on?" Thomas asked again.
"I don't rightly know, sir," the man said, turning the steering wheel. "I didn't see the whole thing, but I was told to come get you."
Thomas swore quietly, twisting his body to look questioningly at Arthur, who shrugged. As they drove through the countryside, Thomas felt his body heat from the stress. He could feel sweat droplets form on his brow. They were heading toward the small orchard Maze said she'd be at for the morning. She wanted a couple of pumpkins for the end of her canning season. His heart pounded painfully in chest, worried that she'd been injured out here.
He grunted as the wheel dipped into a hole before slowing down to a crowd of people. Several men were standing sentry in front, preventing anyone from getting through. When they saw the car slowing to a stop, the men stepped aside to open their blockade. Thomas climbed out of the car, not caring who saw the panic on his face, and was quickly approached by a tall, dark-haired man.
"What's happened?" he asked, hearing several women crying from a distance.
"You better see for yourself, Mr. Shelby," the burly man said, parting the crowd.
Thomas' heart stopped as he raced to a quietly sobbing Maze. Skidding to a halt, fury swept through him, seeing Jimmy dead by his mate's body. His eyes flashed dangerously, seeing the dead body of Jimmy and Maze's futile attempt to save the man's life. His heart went out to his mate for trying to save Jim's life.
"Bloo-dy fuck," he heard Arthur swear behind him.
Thomas tentatively approached Maze's crumpled body. Touching her arm, he felt warmth spread from her body to his hand. His heart raced, realizing she was alive. Slowly, he moved around to pull her close to him. "Maze…" he whispered, catching her attention.
Maze didn't know how long she sat there waiting for Thomas. Thomas would know what to do in this situation. She wasn't an idiot, but she had no way of figuring out how to take care of this. Jimmy's lifeless body laid beside her and the guilt wracked through her mind. She couldn't save him. It crushed her, knowing he had died to protect her. Something she desperately wished hadn't happened.
Jimmy was the second man to die on her this year. She had the occasional nightmare about the Italian man Danny had murdered earlier this year. She was tired of people dying on her. Maze winced, moving her neck a little to get comfortable. She could almost feel Campbell's meaty hands squeezing her neck. Her face stung, and she was sure it would leave a bruise for several days. It wasn't the first time she'd been assaulted in her time here, but each time, Thomas had come to her rescue. It was one of the conditions she had to live with doing a Lifetime.
She heard movement around her like people were making a circle to protect eyes from seeing what occurred. Women sniffled loudly as men scurried around the orchard looking for Campbell. Maze knew they wouldn't find him. He had ran as soon as he realized he shot Jimmy.
When she heard her name being called, she sobbed in relief and lifted her head slowly and gasped at seeing Thomas. Unabashedly, she threw herself into his arms as her sobs returned with a vengeance. Thomas wrapped his arms tightly around her, grateful she was alive and unharmed.
Thomas ran his hands over Maze's ruffled hair and held her tightly as she clung to him, sobbing. He couldn't believe something like this happened. He wanted to question her who did this, but knew he wouldn't get an answer from her in this state. Thomas turned his head to look at his brother before glancing at the dead body of Jimmy. "What happened here?" he asked for the third time that day.
"We were picking apples when we heard a confrontation. There appeared to be a struggle, then a gunshot, Mr. Shelby," a middle-aged woman spoke up. Thomas turned his head to her as she spoke. "We made sure no one bothered her until you got here."
"Did anyone see who shot him?" Arthur asked, ignoring Maze's whimper.
"He was a tall, older gentleman. Black hat and coat," a young boy spoke up beside the middle-aged woman. "Three men chased the truck but didn't catch 'im."
He swore quietly to himself. Thomas could hear the wolf snarling in his head at the lack of information with a quiet whine behind it, knowing his mate was hurting. Thomas's grip on Maze tightened, causing her to suck a breath in. He winced, realizing he could hurt her with his strength, and looked down. He loosened his hold on her and caught sight of the blood on her hands, face, and apron. "Can you walk?" he whispered.
"He's dead, Thomas," she sobbed in his chest. "I couldn't save him."
Thomas growled low and picked up her bridal style to carry her to the car that brought them here. Slowly, he turned, not wanting to jar his mate. "Arthur, see that Jimmy's body is brought back to the 'ouse."
"Right," Arthur replied gruffly. Two men stepped up to help him carry Jimmy's body to a nearby truck.
"I'll take you back to town," the portly man offered, giving his car a couple of turns.
Thomas nodded his head in thanks and eased into the back of the car with Maze still clutching the lapels of his jacket as if her life depended on it. The car lurched forward before turning around to head back to town. The silence was unbearable as they were driven back to town by the same portly man. Maze occasionally whimpered into his overcoat over the incident from earlier. He was sure she would need him in the upcoming weeks.
The Model T came to a slow stop at the Shelby house. Thomas gave his thanks to the man, which was unlike him, and opened the back door with one hand without jarring Maze. The front door opened briskly as Polly rushed out; her face was pale. "What happened?" she demanded, helping Thomas guide Maze out of the car.
"We'll talk inside," he replied, carrying Maze into the house and gently setting her down on the couch. Thomas winced internally at Maze's quiet sobs. He removed his coat and hat, shoving the hat in his jacket pocket. He walked into the small kitchen for water and a cloth. When he came back into the parlor, Polly was pressing a glass of whiskey in Maze's bloodied hands.
"No," he murmured, removing the glass and setting it down before Maze dropped it on the floor. "She can't stand to have blood on her hands," he explained to Polly quietly as he cleaned his mate's hands until they were free of blood. He didn't see the contemplative look Polly gave him as he gently washed the blood off his mate's hands.
As he finished his task, he set the bloodied cloth in the bowl and handed it to Polly, who took it back to the kitchen before returning a minute later.
"Maze, what happened?" Thomas asked quietly, taking a seat on the sofa beside her and pulling her close to him. He could feel Polly's eyes on him with questions on the tip of her tongue, but he ignored her for now. His key priority was the woman practically in his lap. He could not care less if questions were asked about their closeness.
"We were almost done picking apples," she began shakily, her red swollen eyes gazing into the glass. "Ji—Jimmy left me for a moment to place the basket in his truck when I heard a noise behind me. I turned to see Inspector Campbell standing there."
A sharp gasp reverberated around the room, and Maze could feel Thomas shaking in fury. She wanted to reach out and convince him she would be all right, but hesitated. Maze knew what the Shelby men were like when they were angered.
She paused, lifting the glass to her lips, and twisted her lips at the burn. Inhaling sharply, she looked at Thomas. She could see the fury in his pale eyes before they shifted to amber. Maze briefly closed her eyes, not wanting to explain further, but she knew she had to. "He told me needed to hurt me because Grace wouldn't have him. He wanted her to see you." she looked back at Thomas, whose gaze was murderous. "To do something drastic, so she would run back to him."
"Jesus bloody Christ," Polly said, sinking into a nearby chair, her hand gently over her mouth, hearing this new discovery.
Thomas lifted Maze's head, his vision turning red. He felt as if he couldn't breathe. This was worse than a simple bruise on Maze's arm. The bruise on her face would take several days to heal, but it was the dark red bruising on her neck that enraged him. He turned her head from side to side gently and growled low, seeing the red finger shaped bruising on her neck. "He tried to choke you."
"Yes, and slapped me," Maze whispered, refusing to look at him. "Before he could…. kill me," she paused, hearing sharp gasps in the room and two low snarls. "Jimmy showed up and fought him off. I thought I was going to die when Campbell aimed his gun at me, but Jimmy moved to intercept and was shot... instead of me. I tried to save him, but it was too late. He bled out too fast."
She burst into another round of tears. Thomas pulled her close, feeling her bury her head in his chest. He looked down at her before turning to Polly, who had a few tears streak down her face. John and Scudboat were standing by, listening to Maze's story, and Thomas gave John a nod, which he returned. Campbell didn't know it yet, but one day he would die by a Shelby hand. There were plenty of people who wanted the Inspector dead for the crimes he committed against the Shelby family for his gain.
A slight breeze passed her as Maze stood in front of a newly dug grave. Her tears evaporated days ago, but her heart was heavy as she stood in front of Jimmy's gravestone. In her hands, she clutched a bunch of wildflowers. Behind her, Thomas stood, his hands lightly holding onto her arms, his warmth pressing into her cold body. He had said nothing, but stood a pillar of strength for her. It was something Maze was grateful for.
She shivered from the breeze, stepping further back into Thomas's warm body.
"I'm sorry Jimmy," she whispered, dropping the flowers on the grave as Thomas led her away from the grave marker.
End of Episode 5
