1922

by lovebeauty011

Set two years in 1922. Thomas Shelby now a married man faces new challenges with his company, his Pack & crew, and especially his family. Expanding in London finds him challenged in ways he couldn't anticipate while an old enemy returns with a vengeance.

2. Small Heath 1920-1921

Small Heath Dec 1920-Dec 1921

Maze Shelby gripped her swollen stomach as another contraction seized her body. The contractions started earlier that day after her trip to the modern hospital. Despite living in the past, she preferred modern medicine to deliver her child. A child that was nearly here. Her pregnancy hadn't been horrible, but her child was hell on her hips. It pained her to walk some days when the child moved to her left side. She was beyond grateful that she didn't experience morning sickness, which surprised her.

Their good news was met with celebration, just as all future Shelby children had. Polly believed the bigger, the better. The next several months were relatively quiet at home as she and Thomas adjusted to being married and loving with one another permanently. Her body shifted and changed with every week, amazing her. There was trepidation in her heart as she watched her body change and the difference in child rearing from two different time periods.

Maze knew she needed to talk with Thomas about raising said unborn child in her body. A part of her worried Thomas wouldn't bend to more modern day child raising. She wasn't opposed to corporal punishment, having two parents herself that tanned her butt when she did wrong. Though she knew there was a limit. Jameson and Elizabeth weren't severe disciplinarians, and neither were her modern parents. Thomas's mother was lovely before her death, but his father was an arsehole to his sons.

Her worries were further deepened with Thomas' burgeoning empire and his PTSD. He was solely concentrated on that at the moment. Maze was well aware that women were normally that child raisers and ran the house, but she was going to try to change that. There was a small part of her that wished Thomas would come back to the future with her and she wondered what their future life would be like.

She understood that having a child in the past would mean she would have future descendants when she returned. It made her chuckle to know she would have grandchildren and so forth, but a part of her feared what Thomas's business would be like by that time. It would infuriate him if he had to start all over.

Maybe there was a way for her to have everything, just as he would. Of course, she would have to word her argument with precision and a hefty dose of manipulation. So she planned weeks after they announced their pregnancy. Maze wracked her brain on how to convey her 'dream' to go. After having a conversation with her closest friend about the situation she found herself in, she came to a conclusion.

Men like Thomas Shelby desired to leave a legacy.

She knew he wanted to succeed with his plan to become legitimate and rich. He wanted his company to grow in England and possibly elsewhere, but to have that; he needed people he could trust to do that and keep it running one hundred years later. The only thing she could come up with was leaving a family legacy.

A family legacy meant, to her, teaching your children about everything the parent experienced. Their values, morals, and lessons. Involving your children in your life, business, church, etc. She could twist it that if he didn't take a healthy interest in raising his children, then who would he have to trust to keep his company going how Thomas specifically wanted. That if he attempted to develop a good relationship with his sons, then he would have someone to rely on to live up and expand the Shelby business.

Satisfied with her plan, she needed to seek him out and hoped he would understand.

Maze was in the kitchen cooking dinner when the front door opened. Sighing in relief, she knew Thomas was home; however, a shot of panic punched her in the gut. As much as she dreaded having a conversation like this with him, Maze knew it was necessary. Running her hand over her swollen stomach, she prayed he would listen to her.

She flipped the bangers in the pan as hands came around her waist to rub her swollen belly. Light kisses adorned her bare neck, his body warm against hers. If she didn't keep her mind, he would seduce her until he had her naked and panting. Her pregnancy hadn't slowed down their lovemaking, but enriched it so much that he enjoyed finding new positions to fuck her.

"You are home very early," she noted, turning around to kiss his lips.

"That I am. What's for dinner?"

She had half a mind to say 'food', but didn't, knowing the look she'd get from him. He was well aware of her silly nature. He accepted it heartily, but she didn't show it all the time. "Bangers and mash. I wanted something comforting."

Thomas hummed under his breath, not caring about what dinner was. The heat from the stove warmed him as he pulled her away from the heat. She stiffened a little, her mind away from her.

"What's wrong?" He looked down at her, frowning at her posture. His normally receptive wife distance herself from him.

"There's something I wish to talk to you about," she began hesitantly, wetting her lips slowly. "I don't know how you're going to feel about the topic, but I feel it's important."

Thomas cocked an eyebrow at her, wondering what she was talking about. He knew she wasn't leaving him, nor was she unfaithful to him. Those were his least concerns. Maybe it had something to do with her modern job. A slight panic wrapped around his heart, thinking they may take her from him, anyway. Maybe she wasn't supposed to marry and have children.

Thomas said nothing when she removed the food from the stove to set it in the oven where it would stay warm. As she took his hand to lead him out of the kitchen to the parlor. She heaved a heavy sigh, awkwardly sitting down on the sofa. Thomas took a seat beside her and lifted her legs up so that feet sat in his lap. Instantly, he reached for a socked foot and massaged it. It was unlike him to be this attentive to anyone bar himself, but she was his wife, the mother of his child, his Luna, and he'd do anything for her.

Maze sighed contently, wishing this was all they were doing. Adjusting herself to a better position, she looked at him solemnly. Inhaling slowly, she glanced at her hands before looking back at him. She knew exactly what he wanted to speak to him about, but it was difficult. Tomas wouldn't rebuff her words, but she knew how stubborn he could be.

"I hate having serious conversations," she muttered. Thomas snorted softly at her indecision.

His hands left her feet and rubbed over her swollen stomach, his child kicking his hand. It was something he marveled at. The attention his child gave him when he was close. It was like his child wanted him there, speaking to him. "Does it have to do with him?" He nodded his head toward her stomach.

"Yes," she placed her hand on his, their fingers interlacing.

Thomas figured they would have a talk before their child was born but he wondered why she was nervous about speaking to him about it. He realized they were raised differently but Maze was double raised. Once in the future and once in the past. Since her announcement of her pregnancy to him, he had a lot of time to think about his future and he wanted it to go. Before he took the plunge with Maze, it was about him and his rise, but now, he looked at her swollen stomach and the ring on her finger and realized he would have to compromise with her.

He could compromise. Just not with anyone else but her.

"How do you want to raise the children?" Maze asked, scooting closer to him and resting her head on his shoulder. Maze shifted around until she was comfortable, giving him a moment with his thoughts.

Thomas ran his tongue over his top lip as he thought about her words. He wasn't going to fully bend to her wishes… whatever they were, but he agreed to himself he would compromise with her. He turned his head to look out the window at the darkening sky and pondered how to explain to her.

"You know how the both of us were raised," he began, still looking out the window. "I know how you were raised by your modern parents. I understand they are not the same, yet you explained how they were similar."

Maze worried her lower lip with her teeth as her hand reached out to interlace their fingers, her thumb rubbing over the back of his hand. Was he hinting how they should raise them? Or was he speaking aloud? It didn't confuse her, but she could see where they would raise their kids with values of both mindsets. It was what it came down to. Modern vs traditional.

"Maybe a mix of both?" She asked, earning her confused expression. "Modern and traditional raising. You know my folks were what was referred to as 'old school'. Maze chuckled at her choice of words. Thomas smiled, giving her a kiss on the side of her head.

He knew very well what her modern parents were like. He didn't agree with how her mother did her, but that couldn't be fixed in the past. She didn't know her birth father, unlike himself, and was raised by an adopted father. "We can," he nodded absently. "Arthur Shelby wasn't father of the year."

And that was the crux of her problem.

"What about work?"

"What about it?" He inquired. He would not give up his business. Thomas loved her desperately, but he refused to give up his way of life.

"Balancing kids and work," she elaborated.

"Hadn't thought about it. Not yet, anyway," Thomas replied honestly. "How are fathers in modern times?"

Maze shrugged, shifting around on the sofa. There was one thing she hated about being pregnant... never finding a comfortable position. Sliding her legs off his lap, she leaned back, resting her head on his shoulder again.

"They're more involved with their children's lives and manage to balance work. Whether it be a business or shift work. Statistically, fathers need to spend a few hours a day with their children to develop a healthy relationship."

"How many hours is a few?" Thomas shifted on the sofa to look at his wife.

"Less than you expect," she chuckled lightly, seeing the panicked look on his face. She was aware his business was important to him, expanding was important to him, but some things can be rebuilt—like a business. He huffed at her answer, not liking it. "Maybe two to three hours a day."

His eyes widened. That was it? He figured it would be more time a day. Thomas was worried he'd have to carve out blocks of time to spend with his children, but could easily spend time with them in the evening hours. It was doable unless something happened.

"That's it?" He raised an eyebrow at her. "I suspected it would be much more."

"It depends on what is going on." Maze shifted lightly. "Weekends are different compared to weekdays. My folks were home before dinner and spent time with us before bed. We holidayed a couple times a year."

"And what would you like?"

"Me? I'd like for you to have a healthy, decent relationship with your children. They are your legacy, you know. The ones that will represent the Shelby name and carry on the family business. Do it right and the business could last a century or more. "

"The thing is that you want your children to come to you. You don't want them to have second-hand knowledge from some arsehole who doesn't know what he's doing. Yes, they'll make mistakes, that's unavoidable, but you'd rather know what they've done so we can fix it rather them lying in a fucking ditch and you never know."

Thomas turned his head away from her and looked out the window again. The slowly darkening sky was completely dark now. He mused over her words and realized she was right. Not that he would ever admit it. It surprised him how her words resonated through time. He knew his absent father would laugh at her words, but his mother would consider them. That was the biggest difference between his parents.

If he considered her words true, then he would have to learn to work with something so he could be there. Her words about his business concerned him. Would he rather have his future child, the one he could place his trust in the most, take the reins of his empire or someone who would change things the second he died? His empire would be better off with his heirs than a stranger.

Thomas leaned over and pulled his wife into a loving kiss. She gave him plenty to think about.

"Jesus, this fucking hurts," Maze bitched, grabbing her stomach again as she placed around the house. Entering the parlor, she smiled seeing the Christmas decor and the warm fire crackling behind the grate. Christmas was a little over two weeks away and the family was preparing for the birth of another Shelby child.

"Of course it hurts," Polly replied dryly. "You'll do fine, Mazella. Take a seat if you need it. Do we need to call the midwife?"

Maze had lied a little to Polly about their delivery plan. When it was time, a modern midwife was going to come through the portal and help deliver the baby. Thomas let her choose how she wanted it to go since she was the one that would give birth.

"No, not yet." Thomas would be the one to do it. She wanted Polly there at the birthing, but she really wanted to be in a hospital around modern doctors and equipment. She would hate to use the emergency protocol for this. It would freeze the timeline until she was medically taken care of.

Grunting, she squeezed the back of the sofa until her knuckles turned white. Inhaling sharply, she looked to see Polly watching her. Polly and Ada volunteered to spend time with her preparing the house for a baby. Esme would have but taking care of John's four kids took all her time. Polly eyed her carefully as if she knew how far dilated Maze was. Which would not surprise Maze if the older woman had that ability.

"I'm going to have someone fetch Tommy," Polly stated, walking out of the decorated parlor before Maze could protest.

She wanted him here for the birth of his child. Of course, she realized he wouldn't be anywhere near her while she gave birth and that was all right with her, but fucking hell, the contractions hurt. Maze grunted and walked out of the parlor and into the cooler hallway until she reached the stairs. The spare bedroom that had been Jacob's was turned into a nursery and a temporary birthing room. All she had to do was climb the steps to the second floor.

Just as she placed a socked foot on the first step, the front door opened, revealing Thomas. He promised to stay close to home the closer her due date was. Giving him a pained smile, he quickly removed his jacket and shoved his hat in the pocket before coming over to her.

"Today is the day, isn't it?" He asked, ignoring the low moan of pain coming from his wife. The wolf whined in his head at his mate being in pain, but knew the reward would be great.

Thomas took her hand in his and led her slowly up the stairs to the nursery. She joked with him that a woman's grip during pregnancy normally hurt the husband, but Thomas gave her a pointed look as to who her husband was. She remembered laughing merrily at his expression. As he sat her down on the bed, she sighed heavily.

"Do I need to get the midwife?"

"Maybe," she replied, rubbing her stomach. It's been several hours since the contractions started. Thomas nodded and leaned down to kiss his wife before leaving the nursery to get the midwife.

As he left the room, Thomas took a deep breath. The past several months had been a whirlwind of inactivity and revelations. He spent half his time setting up his business, keeping an eye out on the last of the Brum boys that integrated into the Peaky Blinders, his Alpha duties, as well as being a husband to his wife. In a few brief hours, he would add parenthood to the ever-growing list that demanded his time.

He wondered how in the fuck did men manage so much at one time? Like any man that was asked this question, he probably say he'd figure it out. Since his return home from France, he'd been especially busy trying to get his feet steady. Nothing deterred him from wanting to be a father to a child that he could help carry on the family legacy.

After some serious consideration, he realized his wife had been right about his legacy and how he wanted his children raised. Thomas wanted the Shelbys to rise in the world, keep their heel on everyone's neck as they rose to power. He wanted it all, but he couldn't do it alone. If he traveled to the future with her, those years that he wouldn't be around would be left to his heirs. He wanted to come back to an empire of worth.

Sleep also hadn't come easy over the past several months, either. He stifled a yawn, grabbing the bracelet from the cedar box in their shared office, and punched in the code for the emergency medical portal. He straightened his waistcoat before stepping through the portal and into the small clinic on the other side. From his forays into the modern clinic, he knew where to go. The doctor offered to tell them the sex of their child but each wanted to be surprised even after Thomas' amazement that he could be told early.

Squinting at the bright, stark white of the walls and lights, Thomas walked to the desk where a young woman in a nurse's uniform sat. "My wife's in labor."

The nurse gave him a quick nod and pushed a button for the midwife. A few minutes later they exited the portal as Thomas tossed his bracelet in the cedar box. The midwife waited patiently for Thomas to escort her to the nursery.

Several hours later, his son, Thomas Ethan Shelby was born.

In a small dingy room in a deserted pub in the backstreets of Birmingham, a woman sat alone waiting on her informant.

"What can you tell me?" A female voice said in semi-darkness.

"The wife had a baby a few weeks ago." The male voice replied gruffly, knowing this wasn't the information his boss needed.

"Is there still dissent between the Blinders and the Boys?"

"Every other day. Arthur Shelby keeps it quiet from his brother. We're still getting fucking paid for our work, but it isn't the same."

"I hate that man... Tommy Shelby," the female snarled, spitting on the filthy floor.

"What do you want us to do?" The male asked, ignoring his boss's hate of the man in question.

"We wait…. for now."

Thomas Shelby sat at the breakfast table, sipping on his morning tea as Maze was cooking breakfast for them. He watched as she shifted her feet in front of the hot stove, frying bacon. In the small bassinet, his son slept soundly after his feeding. The past couple of months had been a whirlwind for him as a new father. He hadn't realized how much work it was to care for another human being.

The first week, he stayed with her, helping where he could. He had gotten better at holding his son, but was wary of changing his son's dirty nappies. Maze chuckled at his silliness, as she called it, and took over the dirty job. She assured him by the second child, he would be all right with it.

To this day, he doubted her. No one ever got used to dirty nappies.

There were times when she was asleep, and he found the activity alluding him. He would sneak to his son's bassinet and hold him close to him. Caring for his son left him sleepless some nights. There were days he wasn't sure how he'd get through the day. Maze did well taking on the role of new mother. Polly and Ada came by regularly to give her a break from child caring. At least long enough that she could bathe.

Life had been quiet for some time, but he felt like something was missing. A piece of information he desperately needed to know. Since the birth of his son, Thomas took advice and delegated a lot of the work. Especially the easier stuff that all he needed was a report on. Arthur took care of any dissent between the Blinders and the Boys and the Garrison . John kept to his books for the pitches, the bookies, and his own wild family. Thomas took care of everything else.

Thomas set his tea down as Maze placed a plate in front of him before setting her own down. Since her pregnancy, she tried to eat breakfast daily but found some days she wasn't hungry. Polly and Ada reminded her several times that she needed to eat more. She caved eventually but swore she would go back to her usual after breastfeeding.

He would have another talk with Arthur about the Brum boys. Something wasn't setting right with him, but he couldn't place it. If Arthur wouldn't talk, then he would have to investigate himself.

"What are your plans today?" Maze asked, taking a sip of her tea. It was the only caffeine she allowed herself to have.

Thomas looked at her pointedly. He wanted to divulge his plans to her, but didn't. It was business, not family business. Finishing the last bite of toast, he pushed his plate away and wiped his mouth. "I'll be at the betting house fishing for information."

Maze quirked an eyebrow and leaned forward, hoping he'd dish out something. When he gave her a pointed look, she huffed at him. His smile eased the short-term ire at him.

"Is everything all right?" Maze stabbed a bit of egg with her fork.

"I don't know. Something isn't right," he confessed, leaning back into the chair.

Maze snorted softly, "That's comforting."

Just as she finished her sentence, Thomas Ethan cried. Thomas rose quickly to pick his son up and hold him gently against his chest. His son squirmed against him until he settled. Thomas brushed the back of his son's head before giving it a kiss. He cherished the few minutes every morning before he left the house to work to spend time with his son.

Letting Maze eat her breakfast in peace, Thomas ventured out of the kitchen and down the narrow hallway until he reached the parlor. It was an unusual feeling for him, being so paternal. It wasn't something he was used to, but he felt fiercely protective of his child. As he wandered around the house, his feet made their way back to the kitchen where Maze was cleaning. Setting his son in the bassinet, he walked to his wife and pulled her close to him.

Sliding his fingers through her hair and up her scalp, he tilted her head slightly to look at him before he brushed his lips gently against hers. Her whimper reached his ears, and he fought hard to not press her against the wall and fuck her. It had been weeks since the last time he was between her thighs, but he understood she needed to heal from giving birth to his son.

His cock thickened, feeling her soft body press against his. Hands sliding down her luscious body until his fingers grazed her arse, giving the globes a squeeze. Maze moaned softly against his lips, her body aching for her husband. It had been too long since he claimed her. A warm hand slid up the side of her thigh until fingers grazed her cunt through her modern knickers.

Lust thrummed in his veins as two fingers slipped into her wet cunt. Thomas moaned, kissing along her jaw slowly before tasting her flesh with his tongue. His cock ached to be inside her but refrained until she got the clear from her doctor. Then he would ravage her body until the sun came up. His teeth would find her flesh, marking her. He hoped she would speak to her doctor soon.

Finding her lips again, Thomas tugged at the belt on her robe, releasing her body to his hungry eyes. Amber orbs raked over her thin purple shirt she wore, his eyes catching the curve of her enlarged tits. The wolf whined in his head, wishing Thomas would strip her and fuck her. Opening his amber eyes, he groaned, his fingers feeling her slick walls flutter around his fingers. His thumb brushed her swollen clit, driving her mad.

"That's it," Thomas murmured darkly in her ear, his lips sucked gently on her earlobe. "Cum for me."

Maze dropped her head into her husband's shoulder, biting down on her lower lip as she came on his fingers. Her vision blackened for a second before returning. Her legs wobbled under his expert fingers. She groaned when he pulled his fingers from her and retied her sash. Looking into his amber orbs, she wanted to drag him upstairs to their room and fuck him, but she refrained… at least for today. Her doctor visit was the next day.

He didn't know, and she planned on surprising him.

With one last kiss, Thomas forced himself to pull away from her. The ever present wolf snapped in his head while walking away from his very willing mate. He gave his sleeping son a quick look before grabbing his jacket and sliding it on. Thomas removed his coat from the hook by the door and slipped it on. As he left the house, he wished he wasn't.

His walk to the Shelby house gave him time to think about the situation at hand. There was something going on that no one was telling him. Thomas stifled a yawn. Sleeping in bed with his wife staved off the worst of his nightmares, but they returned with a vengeance after his son was born.

The chink of a shovel hitting a large rock caught his attention as Thomas paused and looked around the Lane for the noise. It was the same noise from his nightmares. Grunting, he snapped his eyes closed and took a deep breath as he fished out his cigarette box. His fingers trembled slightly as he picked up a cigarette. Placing it between his lips, he lit it a second later. Thomas twisted his head from side to side, inhaling the nicotine.

Thomas looked down the Lane as the nicotine flushed through his veins, calming him. The house wasn't too far as he pushed his feet forward. There were things that needed to be done today.

As he entered the Shelby house, Thomas sidestepped several men, nearly pushing his way in. He removed his hat and shoved it in the pocket of his coat before hanging it up. He continued his walk to his office, observing the long line of men waiting in line to place bets. There were six races going on over the next several days, and many men wanted to increase their earnings.

Since the takeover of Kimber's tracks, the money flow quadrupled. Thomas hadn't a chance to look over the ledgers, but he knew eventually he would have to spend some of the money. There were three pubs waiting for him to obtain them. He vowed he would sit down and speak to Arthur and John about buying them. Slipping into his office, he saw two ledgers he needed to open and a stack of mail.

Thomas placed his hand on the first ledger and noticed the trembling ceased. Shoving the emotion aside, he flipped the first book open.

An hour later, Thomas flipped open a copy of The Times to see another article from America's Prohibition. He raised an eyebrow, reading the article about uptick in crime and robbery. As he continued to read the article, Thomas realized there was a lot of money to be made with Prohibition. The only problem was how to get alcohol there?

That would require some kind of export license.

Maybe he should ask Maze about it. Find out what she knew. Thomas sighed and tipped his head back to look at the ceiling, letting his head rest on the back of the chair. He didn't want to have to rely on his wife for future knowledge, but he knew she wouldn't have much trouble telling him about it. Shaking himself from plans that could be made later, he continued to read the paper. His blue eyes scanned over the reports from the war in Ireland. Moving onto another article, Thomas was tired of war. Nothing good came from war, in his opinion. Maybe profit, but nothing else.

The conversation he had earlier with his wife came to the forefront of his mind. There was something going on that he wasn't privy to. He knew someone in his organization was keeping secrets from him. Thomas was aware of his penchant for keeping secrets from his family, but this wasn't a situation that he needed to handle on his own. Growling in frustration, he flipped the ledger open once more before leaving to deal with other business.

Thomas Shelby stormed into the Garrison, fury rolling over him. He pushed the double green doors hard enough they slammed against the wall, rattling the windows. It surprised him that the glass didn't shatter. His eyes blazed with fury as he scanned the pub looking for Arthur. Patrons turned to see an irate Tommy Shelby standing there, and each wondered who deserved the death sentence.

Thomas felt eyes on him and swallowed back a shred of rage that engulfed him. Calmly as he could, he walked through the pub, ignoring the patrons and the new barkeep.

He had been exiting Mr. Zhang's dry cleaning to have a suit sent to his house when Patty Lee stopped him to tell him something that was kept from Thomas's ear. As Patty explained, the brawl that broke out between the former Brum boys and Darby Sabini's men.

"What are you talking about?" Thomas demanded, dropping his cigarette in a puddle of melted snow. "What brawl?"

Patty's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline as he gave Thomas an incredulous look. He wasn't sure how to take the knowledge that his kin didn't know what was going on in his business. Not that it matters to Patty, but he felt the need to tell Tommy the truth.

"Y'know how we went up to Greenford couple of days ago?" Patty asked, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "It started out al'right but got worse when the Brummies watched as Sabini arrived at the course. I dunno what was said, but Sabini pulled a gun on George Sage and shot at the fucker."

Thomas swore viciously, tossing his cigarette on the ground in anger. He couldn't believe this was happening. Arthur was supposed to keep the Brum Boys in line, giving them jobs to keep the men placated. Not this. This could be a disaster for Thomas' plan to expand his territory into London. He knew of the name Sabini and a few others.

"Anyone injured?"

"No boss," Patty replied, causing Thomas to look at him inquiringly. Patty paused to glance at Thomas. His pause gave Thomas a reason to glare at the man, wondering if there was anything else. Arthur kept mum about everything dealing with the Brum boys, but it seemed that Thomas needed to step in, anyway.

"What else?" Thomas demanded, eyeing the Lee man with interest.

"Nothing good to tell you."

Thomas swore again and looked away from Patty. The Bullring was busy for the time of day as humans milled around and going in and out of shops. Giving Patty a sharp nod, Thomas stormed off, intent on finding Arthur and demanding to know what happened.

As he walked towards the Garrison where he knew Arthur would be at this time of day. It angered him greatly that Arthur would keep something fundamental to their organization from him. He needed everyone to do their fucking job and that included all the Brum boys.

He found Arthur asleep in the chair at the office desk. A bottle of whiskey sat on the table, open and nearly empty. The wolf snarled in his head, his actions becoming more aggressive as he stood there. Pursing his lips, Thomas contemplated how to wake his brother up. Remembering why he was there in the first place, Thomas shoved the office door opened, the door slamming against the walls with a sharp crack.

Arthur woke with a start, falling out of the chair and onto the hard floor. He swore violently, coming to his feet, and looked around wildly. Breathing heavily, he glanced up seeing his younger brother standing there, dark fury clearly written on his face. Coming slowly to his feet, he swayed for a second, grabbing the desk to steady himself.

He hadn't a clue why Tommy was standing in the doorway of the Garrison office glaring at him. Pushing his hair away from his face, Arthur prepared for a battle.

"What?" Arthur asked indigently.

"When were you going to tell me about the Brum boys starting brawls with Darby Sabini, eh?"

Arthur scoffed, his face paling a little at Tommy's question. Arthur kept the dissent away from Tom's ears since the death of Kimber. Over a year of hiding the brawling and the dissent and somehow Tom found out. He thought he did a good job of keeping everything from turning into a war.

Apparently not.

"Or about all the brawling and dissent between our men and the Brum boys?" Thomas asked slowly, anger lacing his voice.

"It's nothing, Tom.," Arthur sat down in the chair and grabbed the whiskey bottle. He poured a generous amount into the tumbler before twisting the cap back on and setting it on the desk.

The fury mounted in his veins the longer he stood there glaring at his older brother. It wasn't like Arthur to keep information from him, but he knew he couldn't bitch too much. Thomas kept plenty of secrets from his family once they returned home from France. Thomas turned his head to the side and swore softly. He would have let it go, but Arthur's causal dismissal infuriated him.

" It's nothing?" Thomas snarled, snapping his neck back to look at Arthur. "Darby Sabini pulled a gun on George Sage and fired at him!" Arthur leaned back, surprised at this information. "Yea," Thomas growled quietly. "He pulled a fucking gun. So now I have to deal with it."

Thomas glowered at his older brother, waiting for another excuse. This was one reason Thomas kept himself involved with everything. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I had it covered."

"Yea, like what happened at Greenfield? You had that covered, too?"

"Who the fuck told you?"

Thomas pressed his lips together. The wolf snarled in his head at Arthur's casual disregard. Why the fuck couldn't anyone do anything right? He knew he couldn't control every situation, but if things got out of hand, he needed to know. Thomas snarled softly and pivoted away from his brother.

Arthur rose from his chair, knocking it down on the hardwood flooring, and stormed after Tommy. Anger rushed in his veins, the accusations flying in his battered brain as he outstretched his arm to roughly grab Tommy's arm and spun him around to face him.

" I said, 'who the fuck told you'?"

Thomas glowered at his older brother. His blue eyes shifted amber as he slowly trailed his eyes down his arm to Arthur's hand. The wolf snarled viciously in his head, its jaws snapping loudly. With a sharp jerk, Thomas pulled his arm free.

"Don't fucking grab me," Thomas snarled softly, pointing his finger at Arthur. He inhaled slowly, trying to control himself.

Arthur opened his mouth to retort when Thomas held up a hand to interrupt him. "I don't want to hear it, Arthur."

He glared at Arthur once more before turning around to leave the pub. In a fit of anger, Thomas pushed the doors with enough force, they slammed against the outside wall, shattering the glass.

He barely heard Arthur yelling, " You're going to pay for that!"

He inhaled sharply, his nose twitched at the smell of humans and dust. Thomas felt the wolf's restlessness stirring in his body. Shifting his shoulders, he fished out a cigarette and lit it quickly, tossing the match on the ground. The full moon had come and gone by the first of March, leaving Thomas restless to burn off the anger that coursed through him. If he could shift, he could work through this mess his brother got him into. It might be time to call a Pack meeting. While he cared nothing for the Brum boys, he needed order.

He kept his head down as he walked toward the Shelby house, hoping he could figure out how to fix Arthur's fuck up. As he approached the house, he needed to call a peace meeting between him and Darby Sabini. During the peace talk, he would have to remind Darby Sabini, if he didn't already know, that Thomas controlled Kimber's betting pitches.

Entering the house a few minutes later, Thomas removed his overcoat and shoved his hat in his pocket before maneuvering his way to his office. A plan formed in his mind. He needed to know where Sabini put his men at the racecourses.

He slid his hand across his mouth before snatching a cigarette and lighting it. Tossing the matches, it skittered across the desk, smacking into his portrait of his wedding day. Thomas wanted to keep his men at the bigger racecourses in the southern portion of England.

Quickly he crafted a letter to Sabini asking for peace talks between them at his earliest convenience. Calling for Scudboat, he ordered the man to find Sabini and deliver the letter, then report back to him for Sabini's reply. Scudboat nodded sharply and left the Shelby house.

Thomas stared at Scudboat after reading the missive from Sabini. Two days had passed, waiting for a reply, when the husky man stepped back into the Shelby house with the reply. Darby agreed to a peace talk at Buck's Club off Clifford street in London. Darby wanted to meet Thomas at a gentlemen's club. While not uncommon, it served as a non-hostile territory.

"Mr. Sabini almost didn't craft his letter, citing that the Peaky Blinders stole the betting pitches from Kimber."

"Kimber's been dead for almost two years." Thomas pointed out, leaning back in his chair as his fingers grasped the whiskey tumbler.

"That's what I told 'im. 'E said it didn't matter to him if Kimber's been dead. One of his men convinced him to do the talk."

"It's in London, yea?" Thomas inquired, taking a sip of his whiskey as Scudboat nodded slowly. "Buck's Club. Never been there. Should be interesting." Scudboat left to return to his duties, leaving Thomas alone with his thoughts.

Thomas picked up the letter, his blue eyes scanning it again. This would be his first foray into a gentlemen's club of this sort. What he knew of the club was minimal. He knew it had opened recently, catering to social prestige and elegance. Thomas chuckled to himself. Darby Sabini thought he had social prestige and elegance.

As he leaned back in his chair, Thomas thought of all the ways the peace talk would go. There were too many variables to properly guess the outcome. Someone would insist he didn't go alone, unlike his meeting with Inspector Campbell a couple of years ago.

He didn't like it. Arthur should have informed him immediately instead of ' handling it'. Anger rose in him again, clouding his rational mind. He hadn't spoken to John about it, knowing his younger brother wouldn't take sides and if he did, he would try to negotiate. Arthur didn't understand the need for cooperation. The need to keep things peaceful.

Sighing, he rose to leave his office. He grabbed his overcoat, slipping it on as he walked out of the betting den, ignoring Arthur's glare. He could feel his older brother's eyes boring into the back of his head as he left the house.

He needed to speak to Maze about his impromptu trip to London.

Two days later, Thomas stepped out of the Strand Palace and stopped under the awning, watching the busy street. At the insistence of his men, Thomas brought Lovelock with him for security. He inhaled sharply, his nose twitched at the smell of the Thames, humans, and every day odors.

The city was quite busy at this time of day. Humans roamed around the busy street, bypassing moving cars and stems powered buses. A taxi pulled to the curb, waiting for the next fare. Thomas eyed the vehicle, casting a side glance at Lovelock, who eyed it with interest before shrugging to his boss. Thomas pulled his pocket watch from his waistcoat to check the time. The peace talk started in an hour.

"Might as well…" he muttered, opening the door to the taxi.

"Where too, sir?" The driver asked, turning slightly around to hear Thomas's answer. He settled into the cushioned seat as Lovelock climbed in, taking the seat beside Thomas.

"Buck's Club off Clifford street."

"Right away," the man nodded sharply, turning back around to drive to their destination.

Thomas sat back against the cushioned seat and removed his cigarette box and plucked a cigarette from it before lighting it. Nothing needed to be said between the men as the taxi took them across town. He sat thinking about the upcoming meeting. It could go two ways. They could come to a compromise or the results would be bloody.

Not that he wanted the results bloody, but if it became necessary, then bloody it would be. Once this was settled, there would be a meeting held. Anyone that didn't want to conform could fucking leave. As the taxi came to a rolling stop, Thomas paid the man before exiting the taxi.

Stepping out of the taxi, Thomas looked down the street, seeing a fashionable green car parked down the street. Thomas looked at the three storied brown brick building with white trim windows. He expected something more lavish than anonymous. The dark green door was closed, but with a sharp knock, it slowly opened.

"Might I help you sir?" the livered man asked, peeking through the door crack.

"Yes. I am here for a meeting with Darby Sabini."

The livered man nodded briskly and opened the door fully for Thomas and Lovelock to step inside. Thomas removed his overcoat, handing it to the man before waiting to be escorted. A second later, Thomas followed the livered man through the foyer with a black-and-white checkered flooring and up the red carpeted elegant staircase to the second floor.

He could hear men talking and smell the smoke of cigars as he followed the man. Sliding his hand on the smooth bannister, Thomas kept his eyes alert. Stepping onto the second floor, he looked around the room.

The walls were white with a long mahogany bar on the far side. Mahogany chairs and tables placed neatly around, with a roaring fireplace on the side wall, keeping the room warm. The livered man led Thomas and Lovelock to an occupied table where a sallow, rat-faced Italian man sat. His guard stood close by, keeping a mean eye on everyone.

Thomas stopped in front of an unoccupied chair and waited. The livered man leaned down to whisper in Darby's ear before stepping back. Darby flicked his eyes toward Thomas and sneered, but motioned for him to sit down. Taking his seat, Thomas fished out a cigarette as the livered man asked for his drink choice.

He would keep a half an eye on the muscle Darby brought. The man leaned against the wall far enough to stay out of his boss's conversation but close enough to shoot Thomas if Darby ordered him too.

"So you're Shelby," Sabini sneered, leaning back causally in his chair, eyeing Thomas with distaste.

"And you're Darby Sabini," Thomas replied, tapping his cigarette on the crystal ashtray.

"You called for a fucking peace talk…..so talk," Darby demanded, ignoring the look Lovelock gave him for disrespecting his boss.

The man from earlier sat a tumbler of whiskey softly on the table in front of Thomas. Without acknowledging the man, Thomas reached for the glass and took a sip. He didn't like how Darby Sabini looked at him. Nor the way he fucking spoke to him. Setting the tumbler down softly on the table, he picked up his cigarette again.

Clearing his throat, Thomas gazed at Sabini. This was a man he knew would die by his hand, eventually. "A week ago, I learned my men threatened you at Greenford. They did not inform me what was said, but you pointed a gun at a former member of the Brum Boys."

"Yea, because the fuck threatened me. Said my boys were intruding on Peaky Blinders pitches. Those pitches belong to Billy Kimber."

"Those pitches used to belong to Billy Kimber. When he died, Peaky Blinders took over his legal betting pitches." Thomas tapped his cigarette against the crystal ashtray, his eyes never leaving Sabini's.

Darby tossed back the rest of his drink, setting the glass down angrily on the table. "I don't care who the fuck runs them. Your boy got in my face and I had no problem shooting him."

Thomas pursed his lips, thinking how to phrase his next statement. Placing the cigarette in his mouth, he inhaled as Sabini became agitated. Thomas's research on Darby Sabini wasn't as in-depth as he would prefer before coming to this impromptu meeting. That would change once he returned home. Darby Sabini dominated the London underworld, which Thomas wanted a part of.

"Your fucking boys have been preying on my bookies for months, Mr. Shelby," Darby sneered, leaning forward, keeping his eyes on Thomas. "There's been nothing but blood since."

"That's why I'm here, Mr. Sabini." Thomas leaned forward, pushing his drink to the side. "I want you to abandon your claim at Ascot and Epsom. I feel it would lessen the violent engagement between the Peaky Blinders and your men."

Darby scoffed at Thomas, irritated at his gall to tell him what to do. He ruled the underworld in London. This fucking tinker didn't have a chance and the second he walked out, Darby would make sure Thomas Shelby didn't come back. Sabini waved his hand for another drink to be brought to his table before turning back to Thomas' unfettered expression.

"No," Sabini waited on the server to leave his drink on the table before speaking further. He glared at Thomas and leaned back into his plush chair. Ascot and Epsom made him a lot of money. "Here's my counter proposal. You tinker fucks go back to the Midlands and stay there."

The wolf snarled in his head at Sabini's tone. No one told Thomas what to do, except Maze. Pushing the dying cigarette in the crystal ashtray, he released the warm cigarette and leaned back into his comfortable chair. The fire crackled noisily behind him. He could hear Lovelock shift with anger. Things would escalate quickly if Thomas didn't fix it.

Thomas wet his lower lip, feeling the dry skin scrape his tongue. He wouldn't let Darby Sabini run him away from expanding into London. This wasn't even an attempt to move himself into London. He bit down on the ill remark that threatened to leave his lips. He wasn't here for war, but peace. Maybe he needed to let Darby think Thomas would retreat, but subtly move his way into Darby's territory in London. That would mean he needed an ally in London and Darby Sabini wasn't offering an olive branch.

Thomas flicked his blue eyes to Sabini and realized the conversation was done for. If he stayed any longer, Sabini's aggression would convolute the situation. There wasn't a reason to engage in a confrontation if he didn't have too.

Thomas pushed his chair back, the legs pushing against the wooden floor and stood fixing his jacket. He felt Lovelock move behind him, stepping back to give his boss room. The room suddenly felt hot. "Mr. Sabini," he nodded his head curtly and stepped around the chair to leave the room.

Quickly he made his way down the steps to the first floor, aware that Sabini's man had followed them. He wasn't sure if it was to escort them out of the Buck's Club or not. Thomas stood with his hands clasped behind his back as the gentleman behind the desk rose to retrieve his overcoat. He gave a sharp nod to the gentleman and slid his arms through the overcoat and felt his hat in the pocket.

The air in the room suddenly stilled, as if all the air was sucked from the room. The wolf snarled quietly in his head, his senses on high alert. Thomas saw from the corner of his eye Lovelock shift, his hand reaching slowly for his gun. His fingers barely brushed the doorknob when he heard the click of a gun.

Thomas could hear the blood pounding in his ears as he slowly turned around to face Darby's muscle pointing a Webley revolver in his face. From his side, he knew Lovelock had his hand on his gun, waiting for Thomas' orders. It would do them no good to shoot the man in front of them lest it start a war.

"Mr. Sabini wants you to know that you aren't welcome here. If there are any more altercations, they will be dealt with severely."

Thomas said nothing, but eyed the gun with interest. He bit back a growl at the casual threat and imperceptibly nodded his head and grabbed the brass door handle. With a quick jerk, he opened it and stepped out, Lovelock following him to keep his back safe. Thomas didn't put it past the muscle to put a bullet in his back.

Thomas let out a relieved sigh, stepping out onto the busy street. Hailing a passing taxi, Thomas waited as the hackney slowed to a stop to let them inside. Lovelock opened the door, irritating Thomas, but he didn't bitch loudly about it. As he sat down in the cushioned seat, he let out a breath of air. It wasn't the first time someone had pointed a gun at his face, and he was sure it wouldn't be the last.

Slipping a hand in his jacket, he found his cigarette box and flicked it open to find three cigarettes left. He shook his head and plucked one from the gold box before closing it and stashing it away safely. He and Lovelock rode in silence to The Strand, watching the city pass them by. Circling around Trafalgar Square, he was soon eying the Thames. Thomas wrinkled his nose in distaste at the smell coming from the river.

He would send Lovelock on to the train station to buy tickets back to Small Heath while he checked out of the hotel. Not that he needed to stay in London for the night, but it helped him eye the city and find out where the territory lines were. To move his operation into the city, he figured he needed an ally. If he went at it alone, Thomas knew they would crush him.

Half an hour later found him waiting to board the train back to Small Heath. He hadn't wished to leave Maze and his son, but business needed to be dealt with. His wife understood why he needed to leave, though he was sure she didn't like it. Boarding the train, he sat across from Lovelock and immersed himself in his own mind.

The meeting with Darby went as well as expected, even with the threat looming over his head. Thomas sighed, knowing he would have to call a Pack meeting. Many of his Blinders were part of the Pack. The men would ensure the word spread to leave Darby Sabini's men alone. At least until Thomas was sure of his next move and had an ally in London. He, Arthur, and John would venture into London, scope out Darby's nightclub and introduce themselves. After that, the game was afoot. Thomas didn't know how bloody it would get, but he knew it would be more than enough blood.

Not that there wasn't bad blood between Sabini and his men and the Peaky Blinders already.

Darby's counterproposal of the Peaky Blinders retreating to the Midlands was laughable. Thomas found no reason to leave the bigger racecourses in the south, despite the warning. To use modern colloquialism, they made 'bank', as his wife would say. Thomas's face ghosted a smile at her unusual way of speaking when they were alone. Sliding his fingers together, he shifted in the bench seat and leaned his head back. It angered him that Sabini thought he could threaten Thomas and get away with it.

The wolf growled in his head at the not-so-subtle threat from Darby's muscle. No one threatened him like that and got away with it. Especially some fuck like Darby Sabini. It would take careful planning to oust Sabini from his pedestal.

Of course, none of this would have occurred if Arthur had been honest with him when he inquired about business. Was he supposed to oversee everything in this business instead of delegating to family? That was the purpose of a family business . Everyone worked together, not…. this. Thomas looked out the window of the train, watching the countryside pass him by. A dark cloud moved in front of the sun, dimming the landscape as it threatened rain.

Had he been so lax that he didn't see this coming? The signs were there long before he married Maze. Marriage and fatherhood distracted him from what was going on in his business. Thomas sighed internally, hoping Lovelock didn't catch on to his Alpha's distress. It would do no good for the man across from him to doubt Thomas's ability to keep everything orderly.

Thomas Shelby paused his step in front of the Garrison . Inside the pub, his Pack sat waiting on their Alpha. The moment his feet stepped off the train in Birmingham two days ago, he instructed Lovelock to pass the word about a Pack meeting. The so-called meeting with Darby Sabini left him without a plan of peace between the two gangs. It irritated him to an untold degree. He needed his men to keep the peace long enough for him to finalize his plans to expand into London. His anger kept him from speaking to Arthur and relied on John to make sure everyone was at the meeting. Thomas wasn't sure if his younger brother knew of Arthur's lack of leadership and control with the Brum boys or not.

When he arrived home, Maze quietly inquired about the meeting in London, but didn't press for more information that Thomas wasn't ready to give her. He told her things weren't fully settled, but it would be soon enough. Though, his blackened mood lifted when she stripped in front of him and crawled into his lap.

Tossing his cigarette in the puddle at his feet, Thomas inhaled sharply, his body tense as if he were ready to fight. When wolf tempers and alcohol mixed, Thomas knew there would be a physical fight somewhere amongst his men. A horn honked behind him as children passed by the Garrison laughing at each other instead of being in school. An image of him, much younger and before the war flashed through his mind before he shook it off and walked to the green double doors. Jerking the handle, he stepped into the antechamber before entering the pub.

Immediately, the pub silenced as their Alpha walked into the pub and to the bar for a drink. A jolt of cold touched his fingers as he grabbed the tumbler before filling it with whiskey. Anger simmered in his veins as he tossed back the whiskey before turning to face his men. Everyone of them shifted in their seats feeling the anger from their Alpha. Thomas waited until they locked the doors before he started the meeting.

"I understand there have been some…issues with the Peaky Blinders merging with the last of the Brum boys. Many of them have resisted joining our ranks and those that have stayed on fight for positions they once enjoyed with Kimber." Thomas's eyes roamed around the room, catching the glance of everyone sitting in the pub. He noticed many of them looked chagrin.

Annoyance coursed through him seeing his own men act like juveniles. Thomas leaned against the bar, the bottle of whiskey sitting close to him opened. "Since my marriage to Maze, I have delegated many jobs to each of you, especially my inner circle. I expect everything to be done correctly, but, instead I have received reports from various sources that things aren't peaceful."

"I had a peace talk with Darby Sabini after the confrontation between the Brum boys and himself a week ago. I left the meeting with a gun pointed at me head informing me that the Peaky Blinders weren't welcomed in London and if the altercations kept up, they would be dealt with severely." Thomas watched the men bristle at the thinly veiled threat against their Alpha and the Pack.

The threat left by Darby Sabini still angered him that someone like Sabini would threaten him, not knowing what kind of dangerous animal Thomas Shelby was. Thomas turned around and poured another glass of the amber liquid before taking a sip. The alcohol burned down his throat, easing some of his irritation.

Chairs scooted back, scraping the wooden floor loudly as a few men stood to refill their beer. Thomas stood to the side, pulling his cigarette box from the inside of his jacket. Flicking the gold case open with nimble fingers, he plucked one before closing the box. Lightning the cigarette, he waited patiently for the men to reclaim their seats before speaking again. A cloud of smoke engulfed him as he turned to tap the cigarette in the metal ashtray.

"Pass along the bloody message. I want no fucking fighting between us and Sabini's men ." Thomas lowered his cigarette, glaring at his men. When no one answered him immediately, Thomas growled low, his eyes slipped to amber. "Do you fucking get me, eh?"

A quiet chorus of 'Yes Alpha,' floated around the room. He knew every one of them didn't want to listen to his edict but Thomas couldn't find it in him to give a fuck. The fighting would have to stop if he were to move his territory into London. Darby Sabini's retaliation would be catastrophic to him, his family, and his Pack. With a swift nod of his head, Thomas dismissed the Pack.

Thomas watched as everyone dispersed from the pub. Arthur and John held back to speak to their brother. He eyed them warily as they approached. John looked contemplated but Arthur couldn't hide the anger in his posture. Thomas knew this meeting indicated Arthur's lack of leadership. At that moment, Thomas cared less if Arthur was angry with him.

"How long has this been going on?" John inquired, chewing on a toothpick.

Arthur opened his mouth to protest, but stopped seeing fury cross Thomas's face. Arthur didn't like it but he had to deal with the fallout of his lack of leadership. He still wanted to impress everyone that he could be relied on for business. "Too fucking long. It should have been dealt with when the fighting first started, not a year later."

"What else did Sabini say to you?" Arthur snapped, tossing his head to the side to clear his line of vision.

"Nothing else. He won't pull his people from Ascot and Epsom, which," Thomas paused and inhaled on the cigarette before blowing out the smoke. "I don't plan to do it." Thomas wet his lips, twisting slightly to tap the cigarette in the ashtray. "Told me to scurry back to the Midlands instead."

John's eyes flash amber before returning to their normal color as he twisted his head to glare at Arthur. It was Arthur's job to keep the men in line and deal with the turmoil. From what John understood, Arthur kept the turmoil to himself dealing where he could.

"How many men have been injured?" Thomas inquired, smothering his anger toward his older brother. It seemed that John was on his side for once.

Arthur shuffled his feet and snatched the bottle of whiskey off the bar top. He didn't speak as he searched for a tumbler, but found none. Shrugging his shoulders, he placed the bottle to his lips and took a long swig of the amber liquid. When he finished his drink, John and Thomas waited impatiently for him to answer.

"Just a couple. It wasn't nothing bad, Tommy, I swear it. Some patch ups and bruises." Arthur confessed, setting the bottle back on the bar top.

"Right," Thomas murmured. "Keep a better fucking eye on them. I don't care what they think." Thomas' eyes pierced his older brother's, hoping Arthur would do his job. "Remind them who they owe their loyalty to."

*********
Mazella opened the downstairs windows, letting fresh air into the parlor. Behind her sat a gurgling Thomas Ethan gumming on one of his baby toys. She smiled softly seeing a family pass down the road in front of their house. As she turned around to see her son playing in a wooden playpen surrounded by a few toys.

Since the birth of her son, things had changed dramatically in her life. Married to Thomas kept life interesting, especially in the past several months since his impromptu trip to London. When he returned unharmed, she was thankful for the loss of bodily harm but was wary of his clipped answers when she delicately asked him what occurred. It irked her, but she forced herself to remember what time period she lived in. Men weren't exactly forthcoming about their private dealings unlike modern men who would explain in light detail what was occurring. With Thomas as her husband, it was more like he was trying to protect her. Give her plausible deniability.

A part of her was grateful for his lack of communication, but she knew peace wouldn't last. From her experience with the Shelby men, peace lasted only so long before they got bored. Thomas wasn't bored, but he was planning. Planning something that she didn't have privy too, but from observing him and her own modern knowledge of people, Maze knew he was in 'planning mode'.

Just what was he planning…. she didn't know. Time would only tell what was brewing in her husband's mind. Thomas Ethan squealed in his playpen temporarily distracting her from her musing. Giving her son a smile, she leaned down into the playpen to kiss his forehead before sitting down on the couch and picked up a large tome from early British history.

She settled into the couch and opened the book to read. Maze hadn't read far when her mind drifted again from the current topic. Since Thomas' return from London, he'd been on the outs with Arthur. It was strange, but the dynamics in their brotherhood changed. Maze promptly assumed their distance began when Thomas returned, but she wasn't sure what it was. Eventually information would come to light, but today wasn't that day and Thomas refused to tell her.

Maze figured it dealt with something illegal. She knew Thomas wished to go legitimate, but something kept him in the illegal business. Illegal business meant more money when the legitimate way wasn't gaining you what you wanted. Maze shook her head from the thoughts and turned back to her book. She tried to read, she did, but thoughts kept interrupting her narrative in her mind.

Her marriage with Thomas was intense. She couldn't explain why it felt intense to her, and she didn't dare bring it up with Thomas, at least not yet. Maze shivered remembering their honeymoon last year. His skillful seduction of her body and mind mystified her till this day. It left her speechless that he held such command over her body. Not that she complained about the incredible sex, not at all, but she wanted to wait until the rush of newly married life dissipated some before she said anything to him.

Since her doctor gave her the go-ahead to have sex again, Thomas found himself between her thighs nightly. Her body shivered in pleasure from remembering the night before. The full moon was at hand the next couple of nights as his wolf shimmered lightly on his skin the closer it came to the full moon. The first time she felt it, it startled her, but she said nothing to Thomas. She feared he would consider it a secret of his nature . Something she shouldn't know.

Maze initially figured her marriage would be like the ones she read about in books from this time period, but found herself in the wrong. While he wasn't home early from doing whatever he did all day, he came home to them. Their son wasn't old enough to learn from his father, but Thomas spent time with his son when he was home. She would catch him whispering to Thomas Ethan when he thought she wasn't looking. It clenched her heart seeing him so… fatherly. To see him that way, after knowing him most of her life, was interesting.

She sighed and looked out the window, placing her finger in the book to hold its page when she heard the front door open. She heard rustling in the foyer and turned her head slightly to see Thomas step through the threshold, his pale blue eyes gazing around the room until he spotted her. Her eyes widened seeing his eyes shift to amber before resuming their natural color.

Her body clenched in anticipation, knowing exactly what he wanted. His hands and lips would dominate her body until she screamed his name. Then his teeth would find the spot on her shoulder, caressing with his lips before biting down, satisfying the wolf within. Maze rose to her feet, dropping the book on the sofa as his hands hugged her hips and pulled her close for a searing kiss. Her mouth parted gently, her hands sliding up his arms and gripped his biceps.

Thomas Ethan cried unexpectedly, diverting their attention. Maze whined lowly as Thomas reluctantly stepped away from her and crossed the room to pick up his son. Maze grabbed the book and closed it carefully before setting it on the low table in front of the sofa. She could work later on the book when everyone was asleep. Night time was her best reading hours. She watched her husband and son interact for a moment before leaving the parlor to find lunch.

Maze grasped the wooden handle to stir the leftover red beans and rice. It was a dish she introduced Thomas to, and he found he liked it after he eyed it curiously. She planned to introduce him to more food varieties during their marriage. She sighed contently as warm hands slid across her hips and palmed against her stomach. Maze felt the heat of Thomas's body pressing into hers, his demand for her evident.

"I need you," Thomas murmured close to her ear, his hot breath sending goosebumps along her bare arms. Maze moved their lunch off the hot plate and placed a lid over it to keep it warm.

"Where's—,"

"Upstairs, in his nursery," Thomas answered, spinning her around to face him. Moving them away from the hot stove, Thomas pressed her gently against the downstairs hallway wall. He lowered his head until his lips grazed hers gently. She felt his fingers clench the fabric of her skirt, driving it slowly up her legs. Her legs gently trembled as his fingers skimmed the surface of her skin until they found their destination between her thighs.

Chapped lips coasted along her neck, urging it over until her throat was exposed to him. Maze grunted softly, her overheated mind whirling when thick fingers slipped under the flimsy fabric of her knickers. She involuntarily bucked her hips against his fingers, hoping to slide them in her wet cunt.

Thomas grunted low, his control over the wolf slipping. Her hips rolled against his drench-tipped fingers, urging him to finger fuck her. Slowly he backed her away from the wall and up the flight of stairs to the second floor. His mouth hot on hers as he stripped her of the offending clothing she wore. He heard a loud thunk behind him when she pushed his shoulder holster off.

Patches of fire spread over his skin where her hands touched him as she continued to undress him. Thomas kicked the door open to their room and backed her gently against the closing door before tearing off the last pieces of her clothes. He stopped, his amber-colored eyes raking over her naked frame and pulled her roughly to him. Lost in his insatiable hunger for her, they fell onto the bed.

The Garrison was empty when Thomas Shelby closed up for the night. He told Arthur he would stay behind and keep an eye out on the pub. Thomas noted the anger in his older brother's eyes at the dismissal, but said nothing. They hadn't spoken, unless Thomas gave orders, since the last Pack meeting concerning Darby Sabini's threat. It still angered him over the issue. Arthur could have put a hefty dent in Thomas's plans for expansion with this little…stunt.

As he stepped out of the pub, a dim overhead light gave enough illumination to lock the double green door. The night air had cooled from earlier when he arrived. Late May air sang with pollen and the buzzing of insects. The only people out this late were stragglers and late night worker's getting off work. With a twist of his wrist, Thomas pulled the key from the doorknob of the green door and turned away to walk home.

He was halfway down the Lane when he heard a noise. Thomas paused his step, his senses on high alert as his eyes scanned the dark road. Seeing nothing after a few minutes, he continued on his journey home. He heard the sound of the hammer clicking on the gun before he could see who held the pistol.

Thomas ducked instinctively as the gunshot rang loudly on the dark Lane. The bullet whizzed over his head and went through the window of the shoppe closest to him. Thomas shoved his hand in his jacket to rip his gun from the shoulder hostler when he felt a searing pain course through him. The second shot from the unknown gun hit his lower right side causing him to stumble, dropping his gun.

The wolf snarled in his head from the fiery pain from the bullet wound. Thomas stumbled, looking for his gun, and finally felt the grip of his handgun. Grasping it tightly, he stood haphazardly looking around for the perpetrator. Another shot rang in his ears when another bullet lodged into his right arm. His head swimming in pain, he fell to the tarmac, hitting his head roughly on the ground. The last thing he heard before he succumbed to unconsciousness was the running of feet.

Maze stirred in her sleep, her hand reaching for the space Thomas slept only to find it empty. Groggily, she raised her head to look around the semi-darkened room. In the corner slept Thomas Ethan but that wasn't what woke her up. Sitting up in bed, she reached over to turn the knob on the lamp, illuminating the room. A pounding outside the house surprised her.

Grabbing her robe, she pushed her arms through it before opening the small drawer on her nightstand to find her Webley revolver. She firmly gripped the handle and rushed over to check on her son before leaving the room quietly. The pounding became louder as she came closer to the first floor. Realizing someone was banging on her front door, Maze lowered her gun slightly and walked cautiously toward the front door.

Maze opened the door to see a frantic Polly standing there in the rain. Her eyes were wet and wild. She instantly knew something bad had happened. Lowering her gun, she tucked it behind her back to let Polly inside. Polly paced the foyer for a second before turning to Maze. The woman twisted her hands together and opened her mouth.

"Thomas has been shot."

Maze's heart stopped momentarily hearing Polly's words. " What?" she gasped, her gun falling from her now limp fingers and clattered onto the hardwood flooring.

"No one knows what happ—,"

"Is he fucking alive?" Maze demanded, her voice rising an octave. Polly raised an eyebrow at her, but said nothing about Maze's emotions.

"He's alive."

"Where is he?" Her hands trembled as she tried to keep the panic out of her voice. It wouldn't do her any good to panic on Polly. Lord knows how the woman would react.

"City Hospital. Lovelock is waiting outside to take you to the hospital, I will stay with Tommy." Polly instructed, giving Maze a once over glance. "Get dressed, Mazella."

Nodding numbly, Maze climbed the stairs and into her room as quietly as she could without waking her son. Her heart hammered in her chest as she gripped the handle of the armoire. Taking a shuddering breath, she let out a quiet sob. Polly had said he was alive, but her body language told her more.

He wasn't just injured. Someone had tried to kill him.

Numbly, she found tomorrow's clothes and hurriedly put them on. As she slipped her feet into her boots, she found her jacket and a hat. Giving Thomas Ethan a small kiss on the forehead, she rushed quietly from her bedroom and down the stairs to the front door.

"He's asleep," she fixed her hat on her head. "He won't wake until breakfast."

"I can take care of this," Polly assured her. "Now go."

Maze nodded gratefully and walked as calmly out the door as possible. Just as Polly said, Lovelock was waiting patiently in a Ford Model-T truck. He didn't get out nor speak to her as she climbed inside. Before she adjusted herself, he backed the truck out of her small driveway and onto the road. Nothing was said while Lovelock drove them to the hospital. Maze sat to his side, twisting her hands together and trying to push down the rush of fear that threatened to capsize her. She shook her head side to side, trying to shake away the negative images of his potentially busted body.

Half an hour later, Lovelock came to a stop in front of the hospital where she used to work. She opened the door of the truck and rushed around the front of the vehicle and up the short stairway to the large doors of the hospital. Maze shook off the cool air as warmth of the hospital spread into her bones.

Ahead of her was Arthur and John. They stood around smoking and conversing quietly. No one bothered them as they stood there waiting on the news of their brother. Maze walked over to them, hoping she kept her form steady enough that it didn't seem like she was a nervous wreck.

"Mazie," Arthur spoke, ending his conversation with John who followed him over to Maze.

"Where is he?" she demanded, her voice wavering slightly.

"Ah, Mazie," Arthur wrapped an arm around her, knowing that Thomas wouldn't be pleased. "It's not that bad."

Maze untucked herself out of Arthur's gesture and glared at the man. She could smell the alcohol on her brother-in-law and frowned deeply at him. At least he was here instead of drowning himself in the Garrison . John shifted his feet and inhaled on his cigarette.

"What else would 'e be doing in the hospital, Mazie. He's been shot."

Maze pulled herself together long enough to glare at her brother-in-law, John. He seemed completely unfazed by her glare. "Yea, Polly told me. Where was he shot?"

"Doctors said—," John began but was interrupted by a soft coughing noise to their side. Three heads turned to see the nighttime doctor standing there waiting patiently for them to notice him. Maze could see recognition and fear into her former employer's eyes. Apparently, he was in charge of Thomas's care.

"Mrs. Shelby?" her former employer asked, looking at her like she was an alien specimen. "I'm sure you remember me, I'm Dr. Smith. I'm the night time doctor." he smiled friendly to her.

Arthur and John caught the doctor's flirtatious manner and stepped toward the man menacingly. Dr. Smith cleared his throat, clearly getting the hint. "Your husband has a gunshot wound to his right lower back, which we've removed. We found another bullet wound in his right arm where the bullet went straight through the limb. He sustained a mild concussion and scraps and bruises where fell on the tarmac."

Maze felt her heart clenched tightly in her chest and she forced herself to not lose her mind. The nurse in her realized the wounds weren't life threatening, but they were detrimental. It helped that John and Arthur were close by, keeping her at least halfway sane.

When no one spoke, the doctor cleared his throat again, shifting his feet. "He will make a full recovery. Though, his arm will be quite useless to him for a few weeks. Mr. Shelby was quite lucky the bullet didn't shatter his arm."

Maze's hand came to her mouth, knowing the doctor wasn't lying to her. She'd seen plenty of gunshot wounds during her time in France during the war. Maze shuddered, closing her eyes from the bombardment of the visions that swam across her mind.

"All in all, I say he got very lucky."

"May I see him?" Maze inquired, looking at John and Arthur before looking back at the doctor.

"We'll show you the way, Mazie." Arthur said, taking her gently by the arm. "Let a propur ge'tleman escort a lady." He glared at the doctor, his eyes flashing amber before escorting Maze down the hallway.

Maze said nothing as Arthur escorted her down the hall, but scowled at Arthur's threatening manner toward the doctor. They stopped at the entrance of a large room filled with patients. Maze's trained eyes scanned the room overlooking the three sisters that were stationed in the room. One was speaking softly to a patient while the other two made their rounds. A few lamps littered the room, giving off an eerie glow.

She spotted her husband on the last bed at the end of the room. Loosening her arm from Arthur's grip, she strode down the aisle to Thomas. She could hear John and Arthur's clumsy footfalls behind her as she passed bed after bed. Coming to a slow halt, Maze eyed her husband critically. She was fully aware of the doctor's proclamation that Thomas would fully recover, but she held doubt. Only when Thomas would submit to modern healing, would she be satisfied.

In her head, she felt the telltale signs of panic overcoming her. Once the rationality left the building, her panic set in. Maybe it was because it was the first time she had seen him laid up in a hospital bed far more injured than a busted mouth or cuts. Maze squeezed her eyes briefly before opening them. Thomas slept peacefully, his arm already bandaged up and put into a sling. She couldn't see the second wound, but knew it was on his back.

"'Ow long do you think he'll be here?" Arthur murmured, trying to keep his voice down. It disturbed him seeing his younger brother in the hospital. They may not have spoken much since Arthur's fuck up, but Thomas was family.

The bloke that found him said he didn't see anyone around that could have shot Tommy. Arthur figured it happened after Tommy closed up the Garrison for the night. That would have been around midnight and it was nearly three in the morning by now. Arthur was a mix of emotions. It could have been him lying there in the bed, instead of Tommy.

Tommy told him to go home. Go home and leave the people who can run the business, do their job. Anger mixed with his relief that he wasn't injured. It angered him that Tommy still blamed him for everything that happened with Darby. Should he have told Tommy what was going on? Absolutely, but Arthur wanted to handle the situation himself. And he thought he was until the fight at Greenfield. Then everything went to shit. Lately, he'd been at the Betting Den working from his office.

Arthur shoved his hand into his jacket and found his cigarettes. Lighting on quickly, he ignored Maze's reproachful look. She had such ideas that smoking in a hospital was bad or even smoking in general. She had scowled at him when he replied everyone smoked and people weren't dropping dead from it. He glanced at John, who watched Maze with their brother and could see the bags under his eyes. It wasn't his business, but he wondered if Esme was still doing John right.

Shifting on his feet, he decided to leave someone to guard Tommy while he stayed in the hospital. No one had found the suspect and Arthur refused to take a chance with Tommy's life now that Mazie was in his life permanently. Arthur smirked, leering at a passing nurse, who smiled back at him. Giving John and one glance, Arthur followed the nurse.

"He–," Maze opened her mouth to answer Arthur's question when he stepped away to chase a nurse. Rolling her eyes, she turned her focus to John, who stood there like a sentry to his older brother. "Nevermind," she muttered to herself, taking a seat on the side of the bed and grasped Thomas's hand. She knew she couldn't stay all night, though she wanted to. He wasn't in any immediate danger from dying from his wounds, and she was sure that Arthur would keep someone here for Thomas' protection.

"How long do you think?" John reiterated, hoping she would answer again.

"I'd say a few days, just to make sure the wound on his back won't become infected." 'And I'll do my best to get the antibiotics, if he needs them.' she thought to herself. "Does anyone know what happened?"

"Arthur said some bloke found him in the Lane down from the Garrison . They recognized him and brought 'im here then found Arthur. Polly was instructed to tell you."

Maze nodded silently. "No one saw him shot?"

John sighed and shook his head, shifting from foot to foot. "Nah, too dark out and it was late when it happened." he paused and looked over at Arthur, catching his older brother's attention. "We'll find out who did it, Mazie."

Maze nodded absently. "If he's not in any immediate danger, I need to go home and sleep. Take care of Thomas Ethan."

"I'll have a Blinder stay for 'is protection," Arthur promised, coming back to the conversation. "Lovelock will take you home."

Half an hour later, Maze curled in bed and let herself cry.

Thomas groaned, waking up to a world of pain. He cracked his eyes open and tried to move his arm, but couldn't. Pain shot through his lower back, catching his breath. The last thing he remembered was coming out of the pub and walking home. He had felt a presence, a danger around him but couldn't see it because of the dark Lane. How he evaded death was a mystery to him, but he was suddenly thankful he had. He couldn't wait to get his hands on the fucker who intended on murdering him.

His groan alerted a nurse who came by to check on him before leaving to find a doctor. Thomas nodded his head, ignoring her words and wishing for his wife. Realizing he would not sit up, he resigned himself to laying back down on the bed and looked up at the ceiling. As he closed his eyes, he wondered if someone informed Maze about this? How was she taking him injured, once again. Though, this time, it wasn't his fault. This time she couldn't get angry with him.

Thoms turned his head to the noise down the room and saw the doctor walking in followed by a sister and Maze. In her arms, she carried his son. Her face looked grim until she saw him awake. Giving him a small smile, he prepared himself for the onslaught of information.

"Good to see you're awake Mr. Shelby," the doctor said, flicking his eyes from Thomas to Maze as she walked around himself to sit down in the chair beside him. His son reached his arms for his father and grabbed his father's fingers and tugged on them. Thomas gave his son a pained smile before turning his attention to the doctor.

"What happened?" Thomas wished for a smoke but didn't see his jacket nor his cigarette case anywhere.

"You were shot two times last night, Mr. Shelby. The first bullet went into your right lower back. Luckily for you, it didn't hit any major organs. The second one shot clean through your right arm. It didn't shatter the bone, so within a few weeks you should be fine, but until then, that arm will be fairly useless to you."

Thomas nodded solemnly, then turned to Maze. "Do you know who did it?"

Maze chewed on her lower lip and shook her head softly at him, despite a wiggling baby. He could see the hurt in her eyes that he was injured, and it pained him to know she slept last night without him knowing he was injured.

"When can I leave?" Thomas asked, trying to sit himself up again, but hissed as pain shot through his back. In seconds, two sisters helped him sit up in a better position. Maze offered thanks to them, knowing that Thomas wouldn't. The second sister moved away to find something else to do, leaving them alone with the doctor.

"In a few days," the doctor explained, much to Thomas's ire. He didn't want to be in this bed. He could heal from the safety of his home. His injuries weren't life threatening, but he figured this was the cost of being admitted to the hospital. Thomas glanced at his wife and son and for a split second he thought about discharging himself and going home, but Maze would have his head.

If it would give her peace of mind, Thomas would submit to one of her modern doctors. As long as he could get the fuck out of here sooner. The doctor looked him over, making sure the bandages from his back hadn't moved before leaving them alone.

Thomas turned to gaze at Maze, who kept a tight smile on her face. He watched her inhale deeply, like she was getting ready to yell at him for being stupid. "I want to say you scared the fuck out of me," she paused, wetting her lips and giving their son a kiss on the back of the head. "It was scary, but….,"

"But you knew I'd be all right?" Thomas finished for her, earning him a glare.

" I checked you over. I'm not a hundred percent confident in doctors of this time period to know what the fuck they're doing," she confessed quietly, earning her a chuckle from him.

"Hush. I mean it!" she gasped lightly as their son squealed loudly in her arms. Maze paused and reached for a small toy to hand to the infant.

Thomas looked at her pensively, reaching for her hand and grasped it. He could feel the muscles in her hand move under her skin. "I want out of here."

"You were shot hours ago, Thomas. Don't be obstinate."

"What if I promised to let one of your modern doctors look me over?" he counter-proposed. He watched in amusement as she thought it over.

"That would satisfy me, but I have to warn you of something. The doctors will do a full evaluation on you. I can't stop that. Modern medicine is far more advanced than 1921 medicine."

"I can do that."

"Even if they try to convince you to stop smoking and go easier on the whiskey?" she prompted, hiding a smile.

Thomas sighed and nodded his head reluctantly. He would do anything to get out of this hospital. Half an hour later, he was discharged from the hospital with Arthur and Lovelock helping him to a car to take him home.

"We still don't know who shot you," Arthur said, sitting in the chair across from Tommy. It had been two weeks since the shooting and while Thomas was still slow moving, he was recovering quicker than expected.

Thomas tapped the cigarette against the ashtray and hissed low. It angered him that no one offered any information regarding that night. Though, many tried to give information, hoping the Shelbys would pay them handsomely for the knowledge. None of it worked. The door to the Garrison opened followed by loud singing in the pub. John swore to himself and closed the door, hoping to drown out the horrible singing.

"How's Mazie handling it?" Arthur sipped his whiskey and leaned back into the booth.

"Like she does everything else," Thomas raised an eyebrow at his brother's inquisitive nature today.

"What?" Arthur snapped, glaring at his younger brother. "She's family, Tommy."

"Once people figured we wouldn't pay for false information, they stopped talking." John said, ignoring the glaring between his older brothers. "It could have been anyone, Tommy."

"That's the part I don't like."

"Is he alive?" the woman asked, not waiting for the man to get into her car.

"Unfortunately yes, ma'am."

The woman hissed and turned her head to look out the side of her car. She looked up and down the street, hoping no one saw them talking. Seeing no one, she turned to look at the man sitting beside her.

"He's a lucky bastard," the man sneered. "I swore I shot him in the lungs."

"Apparently, you failed your task," the woman snapped, gripping the steering wheel tightly. "We wait. Wait until he stops hunting for information." She turned to look at her henchman. "You will wait until it is right. Epsom is coming up and I know he will be there."

"Yes, ma'am."

A gathering of Brum boys crowded the dingy pub. The men stood around, waiting for George to start the meeting. Since the death of their former boss, Billy Kimber; It forced them to work with those fucking tinkers. Many of them lost their positions they once cherished, working for Kimber. Instead, many of them were let go once Tommy Shelby took over.

While they didn't get along with those fucking Lee gypsies, it was better than Tommy Shelby's fucking family. Over the past year, the Brum boys had gotten away with much fighting with the Italian mafia run by Darby Sabini. It was fine until Tommy Shelby learned what happened at Greenfield. How George Sage had a gun pulled on him by Darby Sabini.

Weeks later, they were reminded who they worked for. There were a few that walked with a limp afterward. George entered the pub a few minutes later, much to the restlessness of the men in the pub. He slapped the bar top as the barkeep handed him a pint.

"We're going after those fucking wops at Epsom. Tommy Shelby will have us there to help keep the bookies from getting robbed and beaten. Most of us will do that while the rest search out Sabini's men. Tommy don't want them there and we're going to make sure of it. What say you?" George Sage called out, setting his beer down on the bar top roughly.

A raucous cry shuffled around the room. Technically, they were following orders.

Technically.

"Are you sure you're all right to go today?" Maze asked, pushing her arms into the sleeves of her pea green knee-length dress. The peach sash was sitting on their bed. Thomas Ethan sat in his playpen chewing on a toy, barely paying attention to his parents.

Thomas paused, buttoning his black waistcoat to glance at his wife. Truthfully, he wasn't fully healed from being shot three weeks ago, but he couldn't stop around the house. He had a business to run and things to do. The modern doctor that checked him over gave him better advice than the doctor that spoke to him afterwards in the city hospital. It irked him, though he was warned by his wife. The modern doctor insisted he ease up on smoking and drinking.

Thomas smirked, eyeing the doctor with interest, but said he would do what he could. This seemed to appease the doctor, though Thomas could tell the man wasn't completely convinced. Maze shot him an amused look before their son squealed loudly diverting their attention.

This was the reason he was leaving the house today. The Epsom races were today. Instead of working from his office, he was taking Maze and their son to sit as spectators. When he mentioned it to Maze, her eyes lit up, but he could see the worry in them. Arthur and John would monitor the running operation. He was sure nothing would happen today.

Thomas glanced around the semi-messy room to find his boots he would wear today. A warm breeze filtered through the opened window, the birds chirping loudly as he picked up his boots and sat down on the bed. He watched his wife dress carefully from the corner of his eye as he shoved his feet into his boots. He hissed lowly feeling the wound on his back stretch.

Maze snapped her head around to gaze at him contemplatively. She wanted him to enjoy the day unobstructed by his injuries but she wished he would take a few more days to rest. Picking up the peach sash, she wrapped it around her waist and proceeded to tie it before she felt warm fingers snatch it from her to tie. Maze careened her head to see Thomas smile down at her, his eyes flashed amber briefly. He kissed the side of her neck where he bit her a few nights prior.

The bites still hurt when he did it, but she figured eventually the pain would cease and pleasure replace it. Time would tell. Twisting her body around he captured her lips in an unhurried kiss. Her hands slide up his arms, her fingers grazing over the silver sleeve garter he wore to keep the sleeves to his exact measurement. His hands drifted down her back slowly, sending tingles down her spine before he gave her arse a squeeze.

A slobbery gurgle caught their attention, and they turned to see their son look up at them before throwing his toy. Thomas loosened his grip on his wife, his sore body aching to claim her in their bed. His injury didn't stop him from biting her a few nights prior. A low grunt slipped from his parched lips, but he let her go.

"We need to leave," he sighed, glancing at the clock on the bedside table. Maze nodded against his chest and stepped back to fix her hair. She refused to cut her hair like most women were currently doing.

Gently, Thomas slipped on his jacket. He winced at the stretching of the wound, but did his best to ignore it. His son reached his arms up to be picked up. Slowly, he picked up Thomas Ethan and carried him downstairs. He could hear the tap of the short heels his wife wore as she walked down the stairs with a bag of baby items.

It had been explained to Thomas that all modern parents, unless they had a sitter, carted their children around. While he didn't mind his son coming along, it would have made it easier to keep the baby at home. After starting the car, Thomas eased into the car a few minutes later. Maze set the bag down in the backseat and sat their son on her lap. He could see the slight irritation at the corner of her eye.

It would be a long drive, one that Thomas wished he and Maze chose to arrive yesterday, but didn't. The races started before noon, giving them plenty of time to arrive there. He knew Maze would wish to stay at an inn for the night instead of driving back at nighttime. It didn't surprise him when she sat an overnight bag in the back of the car earlier.

They arrived several hours later to a clusterfuck of cars and people. Thomas narrowed his eyes at the crowd of humans milling around. The warm air brought many people to the races today, it seemed. Parking the car, he turned the engine off and gave Maze a forced smile. As he leaned back, he watched the crowd of humans moving toward the entrance to the derby.

He refused to worry about business today, leaving his brothers to make sure things ran smoothly during one of the busiest and profitable days for them. As he came around the car, he ran his hand over the warm metal of the car. A warm breeze wafted past him as he opened the car door for Maze and their son. Bemused, he listened to her grumble about the excess of humans.

Thomas slipped a hand on her lower back, guiding Maze toward the entrance of the derby. His ever-watchful eyes scanned the crowd for Darby Sabini or his men. He wasn't there to cause ruckus, but to enjoy a day with his son and wife. Darby's warning filtered through his mind as they pushed their way through the throng of humans. After handing the portly man their tickets, Thomas nudged his wife toward their seating. Many of the spectators stood to watch the derby. The noise was deafening to his ears as humans talked loudly as bookies wandered around collecting bets from men while their wives and ladies frowned at the gambling.

Halfway down an aisle, the wolf snarled, seeing one of Darby's men wandering around the throng of humans. Thomas turned his head slightly, unsure of where the man was headed. It wouldn't do well for him to be caught here without backup. Nor did he want Sabini's beady eyes on his wife.

The sun shone brightly as he nudged Maze toward the row where their seats were. Finding them a few minutes later, Thomas sat down gently, aware of his injury, and forced himself to relax. John and Arthur knew where he was today, as well as a few Blinders. They would take care of things if trouble came.

The truck rumbled as George killed the engine. Ahead of them was the Epsom derby. The crowd was thick with people who were easy to throw away their money at gambling. In the bed of the covered truck sat six of the Brum boys. Beside him, another truck pulled up and turned off the engine. Inside of it was another half a dozen men, all waiting to get out and find the fucking Italians and keep them from confronting Peaky Blinder bookies.

George turned to look at the men in the covered part of the truck. "You all know what to do." The men looked at each other as they nodded in agreement. "Keep those fucking wops away from the Blinder bookies unless they want trouble."

He clapped his hands and fixed his hat before shoving the door open. The smell of trees, horses, and money filtered through his senses. The truck shook as men climbed out, ready to do a day's work. With a wave of his hand, they dispersed through the crowd, looking for trouble.

" TOM! TOM!" a voice shouted over the din. Thomas and Maze sat watching Spion Kop race past them. Thomas Ethan clapped his hands, thrilled to see the animals rushing gallantly down the track.

"TOM! " the voice shouted again. Thomas turned around in his chair to see one of his Blinders pushing through the crowd of humans. Cursing to himself for his wishful thinking of a good day, he waited until the man nudged his way down the aisle.

The man skidded to a halt, ignoring the cries of the people he blocked their view. "Tom," he gasped, catching his breath. "We've got trouble."

Thomas scowled at the man and turned to Maze. He winced seeing her fuming face. She glared at him once more before turning her head away to focus on their son. Thomas sighed heavily and kissed the side of her head before rising to follow the Blinder out of the throng of people.

"What happened?" he demanded, fishing out a cigarette from his gold case. He lit the cigarette, tossing the match into the grass as they walked briskly away from prying ears.

"Everything was going fine boss until George Sage showed up with a dozen of them Brum boys." Thomas cursed quietly. "It looked like they were protecting the bookies when some wops arrived. No one 'eard what 'appened, but one of them Brum boys punched an Italian in the face and a fight broke out."

"Fuck," Thomas turned to see if anyone was following them. When he saw nothing unusual, he turned back to the man. His mind raced, trying to come up with a solution. Any retaliation Darby Sabini could concoct up would be swift and brutal.

A loud cheer went up around them, catching their attention for a minute. Thomas opened his mouth to give orders when another Blinder rushed them. "Boss, you 'ave to come see this."

Thomas nodded sharply and motioned for the Blinder to lead the way. The closer they arrived at the destination, the louder the shouting became. Thomas let the Blinder push their way through the onlooking crowd of nosy humans to find over a dozen Brum boys being arrested by coppers. In the distance, he saw Sabini's right-hand man eyeing the crowd.

The wolf snarled viciously at the scene before him. Thomas twisted his head side to side causally, hoping to push the wolf's anger down. He didn't need to lose control of himself in public. Coppers arrested members of the Brum boys for everyone to see. He didn't see his own men standing around. Most of them surely would have left the scene before the coppers arrived.

This would not pan out well. He couldn't see the damage the Brum boys made on the Italians, but saw a cache of weapons piling on the ground. He needed more information to make a competent decision.

"I need one of you to investigate this." Thomas instructed, gazing from one Blinder to the next. He caught the deciding gaze between them and the one to the right turned to track down the information.

"This ain't good, is it Tom?" the Blinder spoke up, glaring at someone who just bumped into him.

Thomas didn't reply. Nothing good ever came from warring with another gang. The only good thing about the situation was that Thomas's hands were clean of this. As he watched the last of the Brum boys being shoved into the back of the last copper truck, he decided they were going to take the fall. He refused to be a part of this …mess.

"Let's go." Thomas turned away from the scene. He wanted to be with Maze and his son quickly. He pushed his way through the thick crowd, bypassing half drunk gambling men and women standing around in groups talking loudly. The Blinder followed behind him, keeping an eye out for his boss.

" Mr. Shelby ," a voice said to his side before he walked through the frame to his seating area. Thomas froze and twisted his head to the side to see Darby Sabini's right-hand man. "We need to speak."

Thomas nodded curtly and followed Sabini's man away from the bustling humans to a quieter section of the derby. Clasping his hands behind his back, Thomas tapped his fingers against his palm as he waited for the man to speak. He distinctly remembered the warning Sabini gave after the peace talk.

"Many of your men were arrested earlier for attacking Mr. Sabini's men." he began, flicking his beady eyes over Thomas. Thomas stared at the man unflinchingly. "Mr. Sabini's warning still stands…."

"I had nothing to do with this." Thomas shook his head slightly.

"You didn't order your men to attack the bookies?" the man chewed on a stick, shifting his weight from side to side.

"No, I didn't. I'm out 'ere enjoying the races with me family and this happens." Thomas curled his fingers into his palms, the short nails scratching the skin. He ignored his man standing close to him, waiting for the Italian to do something to his boss.

"You can inform Mr. Sabini, I didn't order this." Thomas shifted his stance for a second, his gaze never leaving the Italians. The man looked at him skeptically, but nodded in assent.

"I will let Mr. Sabini know of this. What are you going to do about your men?"

"That," Thomas said, fishing another cigarette from his gold case and lighting it quickly, "is my business, eh?" With a deft nod of his head, Thomas turned away from the Italian man desperate to get back to his wife and child.

Thomas didn't care if the Brum boys sat in jail for weeks for this fuck up. He wouldn't bail any of them out. He felt the eyes of the Blinder burning in the back of his head as he walked back to the enclosure where his family sat. Today was supposed to be a day at the races, but business seemed to turn its ugly head when he didn't want it. He winced as someone brushed against the wound on his arm. Pain radiated down his arm as he flexed his fingers against the pain.

The Blinder stopped at the front of the enclosure and let him walk the rest of the way. Coming to his row, he scooted down the aisle until he sat down gently in the chair beside his wife. In a move that was unlike him in public, he leaned over and gently brushed his lips against hers.

"Is everything all right?" she inquired, accepting a short kiss from him.

"Everything's fine."