Chapter 43) Promise with a kiss

.-.-.

Precious was a sleek black beauty. His muscles, strong and well-proportioned, rolled underneath his supple coat as he trotted through the ring. His flowing mane whipped through the wind as he neighed with delight to be out of the stables.

Maria watched her horse with pride, holding the lunge line. It would take up to a year before she'd be able to ride Precious but until then, she wanted to do everything to keep him in perfect shape and become familiar with the line, whip and saddle.

Curly was eager to bathe her with all the horse facts known to man and prattled to her as she took Precious back into his box.

Picking mud out of his hooves, Maria came to realise just how much she missed the farm life.
Big, genuine eyes saw right through her. Precious' comforting sniffles in her hair made her able to steady her feet, relax and get away from reality.

The damp smell of ammonia, deep golden hue of old straw, the half empty hay net hanging limply in the corner of Precious' box, the sound of the door hinges creaking, wind whipping around the stable, reaching through the gaps of the planks. It felt like home.

"Where the fuck is she?!" John Shelby came in nearly tearing the door off its hinges. Maria could not detect or reason what she could possibly have done to unleash his fury, but it became evident she was his target.

"Why weren't you home? Been tearing that slump of yours all over, but all I found was that mumbling mum of yours!" John did not bother to give her a moment to react as he yanked her out of the box.

"Arthur gave me a few days off!" Maria stuttered, frightened by John's hostile nature.

"Well, you can kiss those days goodbye now, Tommy needs you!" John spat at her, urging her towards the doorway.

"Can I at least change?" Maria pointed out, as she still wore her riding pants and a sweaty blouse.

"You can change in the car," John snapped, dumping her bundle of clothes in her hands, "we've gotta go!"

The few minutes ride from the stables to the East-End of Small Heath was painful. Maria had been dumped in the back and did her best to change swiftly, but her hair got caught behind a button, which left her awkwardly sitting in clear view with only her bra to shelter her breasts.
Although John's clearly disliked her, it didn't stop him from taking a long peek at her bare skin through the rear-view mirror.

Maria scornfully glared at the back of his head, buttoning up her dress. Running her fingers through her hair to untangle the mess, she shot forward and bumped her head when John hit the brakes.

The scoff coming from up front told her enough, he'd done that on purpose.

"Ready, princess?" John asked malicious, holding open her door.

Bundling her riding clothes together, Maria stepped out of the car and was startled by the smell of fire and burnt bread.

"C'mon!" John grabbed her elbow again and shoved her through a maze of spectators, lining up behind police men. Maria's mouth dropped, the bakery had burned down.

The wooden skeleton of the building had survived the fire, though blackened and charred. Both neighbouring buildings had been damaged too, leaving the walls crumbling. Glass lay scattered through the streets along with the remains of bread and pastries.

Maria notice a hearse and two workers carrying a body bag. She could feel her knees shake and buckle, she was suddenly grateful for John's strong grip.

It appeared as if a bomb had gone off. The civilians knew it, the police knew it, but the fire department would class it as an accident. 'A gas leak', was what Arthur was instructing the head of the fire department to report it as. An accident meant no investigation and no asking questions the gangsters would rather not answer.

"Found her," John exclaimed, pushing Maria right back into the world she'd wanted to escape.

Arthur paused his orders to the head of the fire department, "where the fuck were you lass?"

"You gave me a few days off," Maria excused herself, "I thought-"

Arthur threw his hand up, no longer interested in her and picked up his conversation with the firemen again.

Although the fire had been extinguished, the heath still smoldered from the burnt down building, flakes of ash fluttered through the street like light snow.

Tommy stood near what once had been the entrance of the bakery, facing the damage.

"Tom, I got your cheeky little-" John started but didn't have the time to finish.

Tommy spun around on his feet, eyes shimmering like the last bits of burning wood inside the shop. In his hand was a small origami dragon, which he immediately pressed in John's hand.

Translate, he signed to Maria, what the fuck does his Chinese bitch know?

"Tommy wants to know what your Chinese lady friend knows," Maria translated from Tommy's sign language.

John stared from Maria to Tommy to the small dragon in the palm of his hand. Crushing it, he cursed and threw the paper at Tommy's feet.

"You think Ai had anything to do with it?!" John exclaimed loud.

The Red Dragon did this, Tommy signed.

"The Red Dragon did this," Maria translated to John, scanning over Tommy's furious motions. Unsure of how she could wrap it up nicely, she just blurted: "That sly cunt of yours has been by your side since we cut a deal with the Chinese. It's not a coincidence that the second we made a better deal, that fucking fossil burns our cover-up to ashes."

"Ai loves me, she'd never do anything to-" John started, but got interrupted by Tommy's cold laugh and clapping his hands.

"She's got you good Johnny-boy," Maria translated when Tommy signed, "by the balls."

Stabbed in his pride, John reached forward, grabbing his brother by the collar: "Oh and you're the one to talk? You can't fucking function without your little bitch holding your hand, who says it's not her screwing with us huh? Have you seen her for the past two days? Do you know how long it took for me to find her? Ever thought that maybe she could be your snitch?"

Two pairs of smoldering eyes stared in Maria's direction. John's wild accusations left a bad taste in her mouth and made her voice tremble.

"I haven't done anything, I- I swear!" She stammered, staring anxiously from Blinder to Blinder.

Tommy's face remained expressionless, staring his younger brother down, he yanked his collar loose.

Ask him to fetch his bitch; we'll see what she's got to say for herself, Tommy signed.

"Tommy asks for you to find the Chinese lady, so she can speak for herself," Maria said with a soft voice, afraid to meet John's gaze.

"Fuck you Tom," John snapped and stormed off.

Tommy's shoulders dropped and a low, endless grunt escaped from the back of his throat. Maria dared to peer slightly up at him. Tommy didn't just look tired, he was drained. Physically and mentally ripped from energy and care. He was unshaven and unwashed, still wrapped in the same three-piece-suit he'd worn on the day they arrived back in Small Heath. All his buttons had been done up in the wrong holes and an unearthly voice of envy whispered in Maria's ear that wondered if the prostitute had noticed that too.

Maria quickly hushed that voice; this was not the time, nor the place to think about Tommy's betrayal. And in all honesty, she'd never wanted to bring it up, what was the use? So he slept with a prostitute, he was Tommy Shelby, one of the men that owned this city. He was the Tommy Shelby, the man who could do whatever he pleased. And he was the Tommy Shelby, her employer who could summon her whenever he wanted, because he owned her as well. Maybe she did not wear a collar, but she was definitely on a tight leash.

"I swear I'm not a snitch, I've been in town and at the stables, ask Ada and Curly," Maria pleaded, because if John's accusations stuck, she could get into serious trouble.

Tommy stared at her, cold almost cruel. And then he nodded, motioning her to follow him.

"Who's that inside the hearse?" Maria asked frightful, watching the workers pull in the body bag, "who died here?"

Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose, leaving charcoal stains on his face: Mr. T-h-a-d-d-e-u-s W-i-l-k-i-n-s, our loyal baker. He has been sleeping in the back of the bakery since his wife passed; he then motioned her to follow him.

"Where are we going?" Maria asked as they walked towards Arthur and the car. Neither Tommy nor Arthur responded and dejected, she took a seat in the back of the car again.

.-.-.

The matriarch of the Peaky Blinders had been hospitalised due to severe second degree burn wounds, on her chest, arms and thighs. There were signs of a concussion; short-term memory loss, dizziness and nauseousness. She'd been put on a high dose of morphine for the pain, which could make her drowsy and apathetic.

That was all the information the doctor could give them for now and he allowed two visitors at a time, no more than twice a day.

The woman that lay inside the hospital bed was anything but drowsy and apathetic. Through the blurred medicated gaze lay enough spit fire to smolder hell. Unable to reach for their hands, Polly's bandaged arms wavered underneath the crispy thinning sheets.

"Shh, don't talk aunt Pol," Arthur whispered, "Doc says to save your strength."

Tommy didn't know where to look, so he stared at the tiles of the ceilings, not long ago he'd counted them all. There were one hundred and forty four.

"We think it's the Chinese," Arthur started, sitting down on one of the iron stools, pulling Tommy down with him when his younger brother didn't do it on his own accord, "John's investigating right now."

Tommy couldn't help but roll his eyes, clasping his hands together. Today it was guilt that tried to destroy him, from the inside out. It was a nice change from the usual self-loathing, though it burned even more.

He did this, this was his fault. He got cocky, way over his head. Went to Amsterdam like a bull in a fucking China shop. And now that owner took revenge. Which was a reasonable thing to do; if he'd been in the Red Dragon's shoes he'd probably done the same, because the Chinese had always been the silent yet biggest drug traffickers in Small Heath and now this other party came in, snatching that first place behind their backs.

Word travels fast, even faster in Chinese. He didn't think the Red Dragon would be this bold though, which was not only foolish of him but also lethal.

The Red Dragon nearly took out aunt Pol, while he, the fucking mute with a silent death wish, still walked around unscratched.

Arthur went on about how the police was handling it, that Ada and Finn were safe and sound, locked up at home with four men on watch twenty-four hours a day.

Tommy listened to his brother's reassuring calm words and watched as Arthur's hands shook on his lap. Their family could have lost a member today and it brought Tommy right back on his feet. It didn't matter how much they had in their bank account, or cash in their safe. It didn't matter how many free drinks and suits were on the house.

What mattered was, what has always mattered most. Keep kin safe. Everything else were minor issues.

He could have lost aunt Pol today. And maybe Ada tomorrow and Finn the day after. His cockiness and ego nearly burned Polly alive, all because he became too greedy and wanted to expand too fast.

Clearly he should have cut the middle person out, literally.

Glancing up, his eyes locked with Polly's in a shared understanding.

"Kill 'em," Aunt Pol whispered with a hoarse, gravelly voice that did not hold any sympathy.

Tommy leaned forward, carefully brushing ebony curls out of the way, before pressing a kiss on his aunt's forehead.

That was a promise, he'd end the Red Dragon's life even if it was the last thing he'd do.

.-.-.

A/N: So hands up for everyone who thought I'd let aunt Pol die. Hah, got you there didn't I?

So, I've made up two OC crooks and I didn't plan to murder them both, but it seems like I have no choice now that Tommy made a promise. Which put me in a quite difficult position, because let's refresh your memory. The Red Dragon has an office in the middle of the Chinese market district. And may I remind you that the Red Dragon ordered to dismember Russo and send him off in pieces? Not the nicest bloke to mess with. But a promise is a promise, because no-one fucks with the Peaky Blinders, not even an old OC Chinese villain.

Sidenote, John is a serious asshole to Maria, I simply can't make him nice in this fic. I think it's jealousy to be quite honest. Because some outsider was taken to Amsterdam instead of dear old John. I think John forgot that he needed to remain in Small Heath, because if something happened to Arthur and Tommy, he'd be the man of the house.

All kinds of comments/feedback will be appreciated,

Xoxox Nukyster