Chapter 29) Repentance from the enemy

.-.-.

Polly felt empty, numb. That could of course be the questionably high amount of bourbon she'd poured down her throat. Their family had one shared heritage; using alcohol as a coping mechanism. It wasn't good, correct. But it could be worse; they'd never been the picture perfect family anyways.

Twirling her glass, lonely at their deserted dinner table, she tried to pinpoint the exact moment that she had lost control.

At first, she thought it was the moment those four gorgers set foot on her doorstep; she'd been forced to let them in, in spite of her gut feeling.

But now that she had started to think, actually think about it, she'd lost control long before.

It wasn't the moment that working class wench slithered her way inside, wrapped in harlots clothes and Tommy's jacket.

No, Polly lost control over her nephew long before that and after contemplating about it for about half a bottle of Bourbon, she pinpointed it down.

She lost control over Tommy the moment she hired the lass. Maybe control wasn't the right word, because no-one could dominate Tommy, he couldn't be tempered.

No, what she lost was his trust and she couldn't understand why. She honestly couldn't think of a moment where she'd done anything that could have damaged their bond. They used to be close; well as close as anyone could get with Tommy. But that was before the war, which seemed like an eternity ago. She still missed his deep gruff voice and the way he could laugh, actually laugh, out of joy. She hadn't just been his counselor, he'd been hers too. Arthur and John, both wonderful men, didn't have the brain and insight Tommy had. Arthur might be the oldest, but Tommy had always been the leader. He never claimed the title, but everybody knew. Tommy had been the rock, the backbone of their family. Even as a small boy he'd been the mediator, the shoulder to cry one, the one making hard decisions to make sure they'd kept a roof over their heads.

Was she jealous of the lass? She'd been wondering about that too, because the huge amount of resentment towards that girl was excessive. In all fairness, Maria had done her job well. She'd been able to get him out of the stables, took on the role of Tommy's speaker with grace and hadn't done anything to jeopardize their business.

So was it jealousy she was feeling? When Tommy regained conscious in the hospital his first question had been about her, the girl, while he'd done his absolute best to shut every one of his kin out. If Polly was completely honest with herself it hurt, like a knife shoved in her back.

Thinking about it made Polly empty another glass, men with their cocks, she thought and refilled her glass.

"You're still up?" Ada piped in surprised as she tottered into the kitchen, yawning and overly exaggerated in stretching her arms.

"You're actually awake?" Polly asked, almost as surprised. Ada never was a morning person and the sun hadn't even started to come up.

"Thanks to those two brats," Ada snapped agitated, flopping down on the chair facing Polly, "they wake up every bloody night crying, nightmares I guess." Her tone grew a little more compassionate, recalling how she used to wake up crying after her mother died.

"How much have you been drinking Pol?" Ada questioned, taking the bottle and examining the content, "all of it?"

There was no way of denying it, so Polly simply didn't answer. Instead, she bitterly took another swig of wine.

"God, everyone's losing their head these days," Ada pouted, rolling her eyes and staring up at the ceiling, "is it because you didn't find that Italian at the hospital?"

"That's part of it," Polly shared with dread.

When the three of them reached Queen Elizabeth's John and Arthur had planned to waltz inside the hospital with their guns raised high. Luckily Polly, the most diplomatic of the three, was able to have them lower their guns and went straight to the director.

Money can buy you anything, even privacy; and a room number.

But when they reached the room, it had been empty. Staff had been as shocked as the three Blinders. They found that as the nurses were checking their papers, Russo had already been given his medication less than an hour beforehand.

The fat Italian vanished into thin air. Polly pressed for another background check, to see who'd been visiting him. But it turned out that Russo hadn't had any visitors according to the hospital's records. He hadn't been at the hospital for long, and had only checked in that morning due to severe loss of blood and an infection on his scrotum.

One hour, they could have prevented a war if they'd been at the hospital one hour sooner. They'd been so close, but cleary not close enough.

This was the reason John and Arthur were getting piss drunk at the Garrison.

Ada didn't know the full extent of Polly's sour mood, but knew better than to ask questions. Instead she reached into the back of the kitchen drawer and took out a bar of chocolate.

"You look like you could use some sweetness," Ada commented, breaking off a chunk.

'We could all use some sweetness', Polly thought, receiving the chocolate and staring back at the kind eyes of her niece.

"I need you to spy on Tommy's speaker again," Polly informed her.

Ada didn't seemed too pleased, picking on the paper wrappings of the candy. "Why? She honestly isn't that interesting and definitely not a threat. Besides, she's not really an open book. She refused to tell me anything about all the stuff that's been going on; which I don't know shit about." Ada complained as she gave an accusing glare to her aunt.

"Fine, you want to know what's going on?" Polly snapped, watching Ada nod frantically, "Tommy fucked up with the Italian, Russo. He shouldn't have won the Shepherd and that's why he's in the hospital. Because Russo beat the living shit out of him, planned to kill him and throw him in the bloody cut. But he escaped thanks to our little holy Mary, who he's placed on a bloody pedestal while he's starting a fucking war with the Italians. And that's why Russo needs to be found and executed. Else a whole lot of innocent people will be caught in the crossfire, all because your brother got too cocky. All because he stole back that girl, which he shouldn't have done in the first place. So don't tell me she's not a threat, because she's the reason we are in this mess!"

Ada blinked once, twice and a third time before a soft oh escaped her lips.

"As I've told you many times before Ada, men become complete and utter fools once they're thinking with their cocks. Your brother isn't any better," Polly huffed frustrated, "and that's why I want you to become her best friend, her role model, she needs to look up to you so she'll let you in."

"Alright, all for the family, I guess," Ada muttered, reluctant to completer her new task, "wouldn't it be easier to get rid of her?"

"Oh we're past that," Polly replied coldly, "that might be a possibility eventually, but if she disappears right now, I'm afraid of what Tommy will do." It was the honest truth, she knew for sure that her nephew would retreat right back to the stables the moment he'd be able to walk out of the hospital. When she had picked Maria out of the crowd, she thought she'd be able to control the grey mouse. But now that she couldn't do that, maybe Ada would be able too, which was a good second best. This solution had too many middlemen, or middle women so to speak, but it would give Polly some power back over Tommy. It wasn't perfect, far from it, but right now it was her last resort.

.-.-.

His family grew the annoying habit of being at his bedside all fucking day. Yesterday they had been the bringers of bad news. Apparently, Russo dodge another bullet and could be fucking anywhere. Vicente only had two more days and since there hadn't been a single name on Russo's list of visitors, Tommy feared Vicente had been honest when he told them he didn't know Russo's whereabouts.

It looked as if in two days, the Blinders were going to be forced to start a war, which would lead into a Vendetta, which would lead towards a lot of unnecessary deaths. His family would have innocent blood on their hands. No, their future didn't look pretty, even with the Lee boys as allies; the Italians were a heinous opponent. Their population in Small Heath wasn't large, but once the word spreads, their kin would come up from under stones like cockroaches, ready to avenge their family.

On top of that, aunt Pol was bitching to the nurses and meddling in every possible way she could. She wanted to know when a doctor would be seeing him, if his medication might have some long term side-effects, due to his previous head trauma. Christ, she even handed him his chamber pot when he informed her he needed to take a piss.

He then made it very clear to her that she wasn't his fucking mother and that he'd been taking care of himself since he could remember, thank you very much.

Well, maybe he didn't use those exact words, but giving her the middle finger and pointing at the door was enough for him to get some privacy.

Giving walking another try, he placed the chamber pot below his bed and carefully removed his legs from under the sheets. His knees were bruised and busted from the collision with the basement floor and there were a few cuts on his ankles, probably from branches of the forest.

The tips of his toes connected with the cold hospital floor. Taking a few deep breaths, he edged forwards until the soles of his feet where steady.

Before he had the chance to raise himself up John marched in without knocking as his shadows, Arthur and Polly followed closely behind.

Subconsciously, Tommy pulled on the hem of his hospital gown and he leaned a little forward. Wearing nothing more than a hospital gown made him feel fragile and vulnerable.

There was something going on between his visitors, a tense atmosphere filled the room.

"We've had a present delivered to us this morning," Arthur started, fingers clenched around a shoebox-sized package, decorated with the remains of red wrapping paper.

"Ai, brought it," John said as if that explained everything, "she said it's from the Red Dragon."

Tommy didn't know what to think, was the Chinese kingpin getting second thoughts about their deal? By the disgusted looks from his family, it wasn't a good present.

"He left a letter for you as well," Arthur continued, opening his hand and showing an envelope matching the colour of the wrapping paper. The seal had been torn off.

'So much for privacy,' Tommy thought sarcastically and took the letter from his brother.

The letter itself didn't reveal anything as Tommy's eyes scanned over the words:

Consider this repentance from your enemy and devotion from your ally.

Confused, Tommy lowered the letter and exchanged looks with Arthur as he was handed the package. The content of the box left all attendees speechless. Inside the cardboard box lay a dismembered, mangled…

"They chopped off his cock," Arthur grunted with disgust, "your lass confirmed it, it's his."

"They sent Russo's head to his family, nicely wrapped with a card attached," Polly added with a whisper, "Tommy this isn't just their way to show you how loyal they are. They are showing us what they are capable of."

"Don't fuck with the Chinese," John muttered uneasy, which would have earned him a laugh in under different circumstances, "Fuck, how did they know where to find 'im in the first place? How did that chink even know you were in the hospital?"

"Tom, did you do any background check, or any research before you pushed forward to make a deal with the Red Dragon?" Polly asked anxious, "well?"

Tommy tried very hard to dodge Polly scrutinizing gaze and quickly closed the box, pushing it far away. Fuck, what did he exactly know about the Red Dragon? Not much more than rumours, shortly before their first meeting he wasn't even sure the man existed. And when he laid his eyes upon the gauntly old man, he hadn't classified him as a threat; more as a pawn. A possible pushover if he planned to expand. He'd even thought about taking over a large part of the Chinese market once his new cocaine empire took form. It would be easier to cut out the middleman and buy straight from the source.

Russo's endgame was, as Polly said, a statement of the Chinese. A very powerful one.

Fuck, he needed a moment to let it all sink in; he raced through the events and details. The good thing that came out of this was that they didn't need to start a war with the Italians. They wouldn't be foolish enough to fight them now. The Blinders had the Lee's and apparently the Chinese on their side, so a very clear upper hand.

The Red Dragon made it clear he was devoted enough to reach out to them. Even if it was just to make a bold bloody statement, the Chinese had wiped out Tommy's torturer.

Tommy nudged towards his notebook and started scribbling down words as soon as his fingers twined around the pencil.

We proceed, he wrote with his left hand, showing the note to everyone in the room; send a card to the Red Dragon with our gratitude. He directed his next point to Polly and wrote: we need to shake up our export, ask the Lee's if they would like to make a deal, I bet they are more than willing now that they have the Wolfhampsfort.

The Lee's would be a good way to export cocaine into the rest of the country. With their travelling fair, they'd be able to sell to different customers daily. By the time the coppers got suspicious they'd be in the next city or town. And if they would be caught, well there was no possible way that a tiny bakery in the slums of Small Heath could be held accountable.

This could work, this needed to work. Tommy stared at his brother's. Arthur seemed to need some kind of reassurance that Tommy couldn't give. And John was still completely focused on the wrapped cardboard box resting at the end of his bed.

Polly, he was hesitant to stare up at her. When he did, he received the scolding I told you so glare, combined with her tight lipped no nonsense expression. She absolutely hated his change of business plan in the first place. Him being hospitalized because of Russo's grudge had been a good example for her to know she'd been in the right. This gift from the Chinese was the cherry on top.

But there was no way back, they had sold their best profit to the Lee's, there was more cocaine then flour stored in their humble bakery, and if they pussied out now, the Chinese would never settle a deal with them. If they'd pull the plug now, they'd be back to square one.

He was done being a pickpocketer, a hustler and a robber. Sure, his brothers would be able to start over, but he certainly couldn't, not with his handicap.

He froze on his bed and a dark thought gnawed at his mind, he still hadn't told his family.

He should, at some point. Eventually.

It would be very nice if his family would jump into action and not stare at him as if he'd lost his bloody sanity. As he watched their faces, his mind drifted towards his hidden stash of cigarettes underneath his pillow. He was going to smoke the moment they left the room. Maybe he could bribe Maria into sneaking in some alcohol too, that wouldn't be too much to ask now would it?

"John, Arthur, could you leave us for a moment?" Polly asked in somewhat of a kind matter; though she was probably holding back on all her venom and curses that she will throw at him.

But at least two of the three intruders left the room and one of them even took Russo's box along.

This however left him with the incarnation of Hades.

Tommy expected his aunt to do a variety of things. His bets were on being slapped in the face, although on second thoughts, that would be a little low, he'd still had the face of the hunchback of Notre Dame. His second guess had been curses, possible death threats and a long list of accusations.

But what Polly did was even worse; she looked at him with huge tired eyes that startled him.

"Thomas, are you alright?" she asked him softly, sitting beside him on the bed and placing her hand on the crook of his neck.

Her comforting demeanor and closeness was more intimidating than any hurtful rant. For a moment he allowed himself to be a kid again and receive the closeness she was offering. He'd never been much of a talker and this had been their way of communicating. She would offer him the comfort that neither of his parents were ever able or cared to provide.

God, he was tired. He was always tired, but he kept on going anyway.

Attentively, he took hold of Polly's hand that was touching his neck and place it in between them. There was no way of having a conversation if she treated him like a child. That's how she could make him feel, like a stupid little boy who took on too much.

"I'll be sending our guests home," Polly informed him pragmatically, aware he'd pulled his walls back up.

Our guests, it took Tommy a moment to realise who Polly meant. Of course, Maria, her sisters and her mum were still in their home at Watery Lane. He felt strangely reluctant for them to leave, for some reason it had been comforting to know they'd been safe and sound, sleeping in his bedroom. But for the sake of throwing that in as an argument, he simply nodded his head in defeat. They needed to go, that would clear up the tension he knew was present at their house.

"I hope you know what you're doing," Polly spoke blandly and Tommy honestly couldn't tell what she meant. He figured it was business related but when he looked at her face, he noticed her dark solemn eyes that told him she meant something else entirely.

In this state, Tommy didn't want to man up and ask his aunt to explain herself. She'd asked him once before what Maria meant to him. At that moment he'd been humoured about her question up until she started to over analyze and blow everything out of proportion, only knowing half the facts. He'd been offended that she thought he'd been jealous of Russo claiming his speaker as a working girl. It hadn't been purely jealousy that made him snatch Maria out of the claws of the Italian. Sure he'd been overly possessive, high and drunk when he did so, but mainly because it had been the right thing to do.

Then she mentioned that all it took for him to turn into a bloody idiot was one girl spreading her legs. And in that case, he could simply find relief at a brothel. That had been so far below the belt. As if that was what it was all about, sex. As if that was all he craved for from the opposite sex, a quick relief. She'd accuse him of having feelings for Maria and if so, to lock it all up and fuck some whore instead.

As if it was that simple.

Tommy chewed on his bottom lip and stared at his bruised and scraped knees. He wanted his aunt to leave.

She must have sensed his complete shut down and didn't press the matter any further.

"I'll be on my way, is there anything I can do for you?"

Tommy shook his head relieved. Then something suddenly popped up, he scribbled down a short message and tore the page off.

Polly took it, read it and frowned: "You're sure, didn't you just sell-"

Tommy raised his hand up and motioned back on the paper, tapping his index finger against it urgently.

"Men changeable as the weather," his aunt scolded, "but I'll see what I can do."

.-.-.

A/N: So, Polly is jealous, I felt the need to do a little explaining for her. I think Polly will kill herself before she'd do any harm to her family, but she has her own ways of taking care of them. I think she's overprotective towards Tommy and still doesn't see him as a whole man.

So, I guess Russo's out of the way, in pieces. The Chinese, what a lovely bunch hah?

For the readers who aren't into slow-burns and are tearing their hair out of their heads, fear not sparks and more are in the near future!

Also, I'm curious if you can guess what Tommy wants Polly to do, let's see if you can guess it right.

Xoxox Nukyster