Chapter 57) Enough
.-.-.
Maria hid inside the mist produced by the hot steam of her bath. Her mind was in shreds; the images of Tommy shooting a dying man like an old sickly dog replayed in unwieldy flashes. They spun around in her head, around and around, often interchanging with all the feelings that erupted during the night of the Ritual. He had touched her, in more ways than one. With his hands and his tongue. And she'd allowed him too.
And she touched him. On her own accord, not because he expected her too. No, because she wanted to. When she moved her hand from his chest to his long johns, she knew she was dangling on a threshold. She crossed lines and infringed upon her morals when she continued to touch him. In that way, that way that made his breath catch in his throat and come in his pants. She'd done it, and although she tried to make herself feel dirty and vile about it, it gave her satisfaction. Although she never considered herself hideous, it never occurred to her that men could find her attractive. Her cousins more than once critiqued her humble tits and, due to continuous hunger, she lacked the classic female physique.
And yet, she of all people held power over him. In more ways than one. Because he promised her he would not ruin her. Yet he was ridding her of her innocence ever since the day they met.
She allowed him too, though; she'd crossed too many lines, burned oh so many bridges, and there was simply no going back to the person she'd been before she stepped onto the soil of Small Heath.
Once she got home, her mother had noticed right away; she must have seen it in her daughter's eyes; guilt, indiscretion. And even if Maria's escapades hadn't been readable in her eyes, word had spread. About Tommy's sudden disappearance, those rumors even reached the darkest alleys and deaf ears. Her mother was not a fool, she'd easily put two and two together, as her oldest daughter hadn't bothered to return home.
Due to her deafness, her mother had always diminished the volume of her own voice, she was unable to sense the proper degree of sound.
But when Maria returned home her mother screamed her lungs out. The twins cried and hid behind the couch as their mother charged at her oldest daughter with a spatula. It was rather laughable that the older woman thought such action would strike fear. Maybe once, before Small Heath, the image of her mother towering over her with an object to hit her with, would have impressed her.
But Maria had since witnessed things far worse- torture, murder, she'd stared into the barrels of guns. She'd been degraded, assaulted, abused, and beaten. Did her mother truly think she'd feel anything but indifference after all of that?
She crossed her arms and locked eyes with her mother, summoning the same dead-pan glance Tommy used to shield himself.
You can call me all things unholy mother, but that won't take your guilt away. You didn't protect us, I did. Beat me if that'll silence your good Christian heart, but know I've done all of this for you, too!
Frustration had gotten the best of her mother and she received a beating. The first hit of the spatula caused Maria to drop to the floor, her world spinning and a red welt forming on the back of her head. To protect her face, she clasped her arms around it, her elbows taking full blame.
When April and May's cries eventually overpowered their mother's wordless hollering, Maria stumbled up to her feet and left the house without an utterance.
She had locked herself up inside the bathhouse ever since, using the wages she'd received from Arthur to book herself the biggest private bath of the bathhouse to cleanse herself. This trip North had accelerated what was at first a gradual shift from her previous self to the person she was right now; a person coated in the smell of alcohol, cigarettes, and his had mud caked up and trapped around the soles of her feet, the haphazard excuse she dared to call hair was matted and greasy. She was an overall disaster, but for God's sake she had slept under a bridge. She camped out with gypsies, walked a few miles through a rainstorm.
She smelled, looked, and felt like such a disgrace and it did not feel right. She simply got caught up in the middle of madness, immorality, and chaos.
Inside the bathtub Maria clasped her hands together and with closed eyes muttered a soft prayer, although she feared there weren't enough Hail Marys in the world to undo all the terrible sins she'd committed.
.-.-.
"For fucks sake!" Arthur answered the door pretty much the way Maria expected him to. But it felt like a godsend to see the older Shelby answer the door and not Polly. The thought of facing that woman had Maria pacing back and forth in an ally near Watery Lane for at least an hour.
"Go home lass," Arthur barked at her and gave her a dismissive wave, "you've caused enough trouble as it is."
Maria fought the urge to obey, and might have were it not for the word home that brought a bad taste to her mouth. She couldn't go home and didn't want to spend another night under a bridge.
"I didn't cause any trouble, I swear," she started cautiously fidgeting on her feet, "please Arthur, I've got me hands all bleeding for your kin," she held up her healing palms, "I've made amends with Zilpha and went through the first gate of hell to secure your lots cocaine business. C'mon, I was your lucky charm in Amsterdam," she reminded him firmly, "can I at least speak to Tommy, it's urgent."
But her pleas met deaf ears. "Sod off," Arthur managed to snap at her right before slamming the door shut in her face.
"Mad bastard," Maria hissed spitefully through her teeth and stomped her hands deep inside her pockets. Dejection set inside her stomach and kept hunger at bay. Weighing out her options, she was about to settle for a drink, a strong one when she heard a familiar voice from above.
"Oy, wanderlust, up here!"
Maria craned her neck up and saw Ada sticking hers out of her window.
"Ever climbed a drainpipe?" The girl above questioned and motioned her to move, "hurry, auntie is resting and you ain't want to wake up that sleeping dragon."
After two failed attempts and a torn dress, Ada managed to reel Maria inside her bedroom. Both girls faltered onto the floor after Maria's upper body fell forwards through the open window, tackling Ada along.
"Well, that went smooth," Ada huffed, slapping dust from her skirt, "I hope you're more graceful on your way down," the young woman remarked cattish, "now if you'd be so kind, what the bloody hell happened to Tommy? He's sleeping, actually sleeping, I kid you not! Where have your lot been? Goners for days, aunt Poll cursed your names so much I am surprised you're still alive and walking!" Ada clapped her hands on her hips, arms crooked like sugar bowl handles.
"Speak you silly thing, it's either out with it, or out of the window," Ada pressed when Maria remained silent.
"We went to the Lee's so Tommy could settle a deal," Maria stated matter of factly.
Ada's eyebrow rose and disappeared underneath her bangs: "could you possibly be any more vague?"
"Oh you want details?" Maria asked, bothered by Ada's know-it-all tone and the way her foot tapped on the floor. "I watched your brother murder a dying man," she stepped in closer to Ada and pinned her index finger in between the girl's brows, "right here, bang."
There was an immediate change in Ada's attitude, her eyes enlarged and her mouth dropped for a mere moment: "he would never-"
"-Yes he would and he did," Maria cut her off, "don't stand here telling me you don't believe your brother isn't capable of something like that."
The last bit of Ada's posh air faltered and she sank down on her bed, staring at the tips of her toes.
"You're in too deep." she addressed, raking her fingers thoughtlessly through her bangs.
"I know," Maria responded, her heartbeat still jittering in her throat as the images of the murder flashed by. The way Ada crumbled up in front of her strangely filled her with contentment, "and that's not even the tip of the darn iceberg."
At a loss for words, Ada straightened her dress and nodded softly. Maria sat down beside her, hiding her face in her hands, trying not to choke on her sobs.
Ada kept uncharastically quiet and excused herself to fetch a bottle of Chardonnay. It was passed between the two young women until Maria turned from a sniveling mess into a slurring mess. In between the passing of the bottle, Ada mentioned that she could spend the night.
"Believe me, me brothers have learned how to knock," Ada promised Maria, "I've thrown tantrums the size of elephants, they knock," she added with a flash of pride before heading off to help aunt Poll out with the house.
For most of the day Maria lay underneath Ada's bed dozing off from wine and exhaustion. It was a simple bliss, staring at the iron springs of the mattress without a rush to head somewhere. The Chardonnay diluted her emotions which gave her more comfort then any hug could at this point.
Throughout the day, she heard voices downstairs, none of the Shelby's minded their volume whatsoever. Maria marked out Arthur's, Finn's, Ada's and Polly's. Briefly she wondered what the matriarch would do to her if she'd be found underneath Ada's bed. But even that nasty thought got washed away with a few more swigs of the wine.
Somewhere in the evening Ada returned, thankfully with food. The Shelby sister had remembered Maria's sweet tooth and, aside from scraps for dinner, she had brought a whole box of Brandy Snaps.
Maria wolfed down the food and a large part of the sweets while Ada sulked about the empty bottle of Chardonnay. Luckily, Ada's mood brightened a bit when Maria asked her about the films she'd recently seen.
It was quite nice to have a normal chit-chat and Maria cherished the luxury of being a simple young woman for the evening. Ada seemed content as well with her secret roommate and didn't bring up any more questions regarding her family's shady business.
Eventually, it was Ada who called it a night and shared the bed and blanket with her. Maria was no stranger of sharing the narrow space, she had two younger sisters after all. The springs of the bed creaked when Ada turned on her side and it didn't take long for the young woman to send out a high pitched snoring into the darkness of her bedroom.
Maria remained wide awake, holding her breath every once in while until she no longer overheard voices from downstairs. With effort not to make a sound, she got out of Ada's bed and took a long hard look at her peer, debating if she was fast asleep or not. When Ada remained in the same slumbered position, Maria tiptoed to the doorway, opened the door, and snuck into the corredor.
Like a thief in the night, she swallowed her bubbling anxiety and focussed solemnly on the ever present sound of her drumming heart. She knew her way around the house and did not need to go far; her destination lay right across the hallway.
He caught her off guard; being wide awake and in the middle of getting dressed. She caught him by surprise as well, his cocaine infused, blown out pupils staring back at her. Tucking his shirt mechanically into his trousers, he took three steps into her direction and pressed his finger against her lips. Resolute, he closed the door and let out a deep sigh.
You shouldn't be here, he mouthed and ruffled through his hair, then glanced back at her, astounded by the undeniable proof that she was truly standing in front of him.
Go home, he signed to her and he repeated his command with his lips. And in spite of his stiff demeanor, jaws locked and shoulders square, his eyes told her to stay.
"I should," she addressed, but instead of turning away she walked right past him. Hesitant, she sat down on the edge of his bed, fully aware of what her actions ment. This was no longer tiptoeing on thin ice, this couldn't be passed off as gullible behavior nor naivety. Walking into a man's bedroom and sitting down onto his bed only meant one thing.
"I'm going mad, Tommy," Maria expressed her dread and glanced with saddened eyes at the man playing marble across the room, "I either feel too much or nothing at all-"
"-And I shouldn't be here, with you," she continued as Tommy made no attempt to either move or send her off, "I shouldn't be with you," the truth sounded even colder and harder when she let out the words freely. And with the lack of response coming from him Maria started to stutter:
"I- I'm sorry, I shouldn't be here-"
Tommy's spell finally seemed to lift: stay, he mouthed, reaching the bed and grasping her chin quite fiercely before looking into her eyes.
Stay.
And then he kissed her. Tommy's lips parted out of instinct, tongue searching for hers while his hands took their time to trace her. There was a certain kind of roughness in his touch, a sense of desperation for her to truly be real, not just a figment of his insomniatic drug induced mind.
The desperation and desire was contagious. He broke their kiss off, sat down on the bed and pulled her close. Maria spread her legs, seating herself across Tommy's lap, crossing her ankles behind him.
"I want you," she told him when his palms found the curves of her hips and as she shifted in his lap it was evident he wanted her too. There was a low growl coming from the back of Tommy's throat as he pushed Maria's thighs in his favor, spreading them further apart. His hand moved again, sliding underneath her dress, fingers making quiet work of pressing past her undergarments. A gasp fell through Maria's lips when she felt Tommy push into her. His lips still moved against hers while his own gasp escaped from his mouth as Maria withered in his lap.
"I want you," she whispered, digging her nails into his hairline as his fingers moved and his other hand pressed against her tailbone to minimize the space between the both of them.
It wasn't how she'd pictured it to be; mind still woozy from Chardonnay, sneaking into his bedroom in the midst of night. It wasn't how she'd wanted it; as a wife with her husband. Yet, when his lips pressed another kiss just below her jawline she could not possibly imagine any other place she'd rather be.
And if Small Heath had taught her anything, she had learned to take whatever bit of comfort and bliss was on the plate. She was done praying and hoping, she was dead tired of kneeling for high expectations; living for everyone else; obeying rules and turning the other cheek.
She simply wanted him to do that thing he did with his tongue again.
And in all honesty, the way his fingers moved was enough to cast all tragedies away for at least the next morning.
Words had never seemed more meaningless and empty as Tommy kissed her again, then, leaving her body in anticipation when his hands left her to push his shirt over his head. Her dress followed shortly and so did his breeches and her undergarments. It was almost unsettling; her lack of shame and insecurity.
'Almost unsettling,' Maria thought as she allowed Tommy to push her into his bed and spread her legs. He hardly let a moment pass before seeking her lips again and there was a low hum that vibrated from his chest as he used his finger to press back into her.
For a moment, their eyes locked like magnets and Maria wished for him to see her. Not as some gullible little girl, another lost soul going down the drain. Because she was none of that. She held much more value than simply that.
It wasn't anything like she had expected; the way their bodies fit together as if they were made for just this, to find such natural rhythm. It hurt, but a lot less than she thought.
The first moan escaped her lips and she could feel his lips part instinctively to kiss her. For a moment, she became fully aware that he'd done this before, many times before. Which made her feel safer, oddly enough. It was a comforting thought to know that the man on top of her knew perfectly well how her body worked, how his could work to drive her mad in the best of ways.
It was also thrilling to hear, feel, and see that she turned him on. Ungracefully, she pushed her hips up as her head rocked back into his pillow. Tommy groaned and the weight of his body seemed to destroy all second thoughts, all the doubt, all the heartache.
It did not matter that it was momentary, a short term bliss, a perfect shelter against the storms. The past was the past, the future seemed a bleak, shaded mystery. So right here, right now, was enough. Perfection and long term weren't meant for her anymore. The picture perfect frame of how she'd envisioned her life had been shattered and stepped on.
No-one ever knows what tomorrow might bring, and so, she willed her mind to stop thinking anywhere past the morning.
Because right here, right now, was enough.
.-.-.
A/N: So… it took me a while to write this chapter… about 2,5 years I guess. It brings me much joy to be able to pick up this story after so long. I must say it has been so wonderful to every once in a while receive a comment or kudo on this fic even though it was on hiatus.
I hope this chapter made up for the long, longer, longest pause and know that I'm planning to continue this fic again. Def with the new season about to launch.
As always #teammutetommy
Love to read your thoughts,
Xoxoxo Nukyster
