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Lucille
Without Adds and Finn to fill in the quietness, the Garrison felt lonely. The two children had left with Ada and baby Karl, and the rest of the crowd had gradually thinned out until only Polly, Lucille and John and Arthur were left. The women sat by the bar, nursing a shared drink between them. Lucille hated to admit it, but she was waiting on Tommy to come through the doors, Dawson tagging along behind him.
When he finally walked in, pushing the doors open with a slight gasp to his breath, she couldn't fight the relief that flooded through her chest, warming her stomach. The alcohol hadn't messed with her brain or her thinking- only her feeling. She hurried from her seat, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her nose into his shoulder.
He could have died. The thought had only sunk in after she'd sat down with Polly, talking about how he was doing and what had happened with Grace. Lucille didn't even want to think about the barmaid.
"Drink?" Polly called out, already pulling the lid from a bottle of whiskey.
Tommy nodded thankfully, letting Lucille slip from his grasp as his brothers shouted them over, their own drinks slashing from the tops of their large glasses. He didn't wait for Polly to pour a glass. He took the whole bottle.
"Today was a good day. All of Kimber's men were busy here so the Lee boys took all their pitches at the Worcester races," Tommy announced, stopping in the middle of the room, gazing around as if he was seeing it for the first time. "It couldn't have gone better if we'd planned it."
"Except for the fact that I would rather not have had to pull a bullet from your chest," Lucille said, narrowing her eyes.
Tommy let out a gruff laugh. "Despite that, Shelby Brothers Limited are now the third largest race track operation in the country," he said with a grin, holding his bottle up in the air.
A ring of cheers broke out as Dawson finally slipped into the pub, a drink already shoved into his hand like a magnet.
"Only the Sabinis and the Solomons are bigger than us, boys. And all my family are here to celebrate." They cheered again. "To Shelby Brothers Limited."
"Shelby."
As they went back to laughing, drinking sliding easily down their throats, Tommy turned to Lucille, his eyes softening as they settled on her face. She smiled, blushing slightly. She both loved and loathed the way he looked at her- a cheeky tilt to his lips that made her want to do nothing but kiss them. It was how he'd first looked at her in France, and it had never changed since. It made her insides twist and flutter, reducing her to nothing more than the love-struck woman he'd made her the first time he'd pulled her in for a kiss.
His chin tilted down toward her ear, hot breath tickling the edges of the whisps of blonde hair.
"To broken men and the women that fix us up," he said, finally letting his lips land on hers, making her feet stumble in surprise, back landing at the edge of the bar. "Always my angel."
Tommy
The only way is up.
As cliche as it was, those were the words that were repeated in Tommy's head as he stared around the Garrison, eyes taking in every inch: his brothers staining the floors a dark, sticky colour with their splashes of drink, Polly messing around the stacks of bottles, sniffing each one that looked interesting, and Lucille, just beaming happily as she always did as she watched in between. He hoped none of it would change.
The only really was up.
Tommy didn't need to be at the bottom to decide that. Everyone had said it- the Shelby family were going places- big places. All thanks to him.
"Tommy," Dawson said, a breathlessness to his voice as he came up to his side, gathering his and Lucille's attention easily. "Congratulations."
Tommy smiled and nodded his head in time with his bottle. "And to you."
"I was thinking we could talk now that everything is over," he said.
"Of course."
Tommy nodded, standing from the bar, leading them toward the private room, Lucille following quietly. He noticed his hands. They'd stopped shaking almost completely, but Tommy knew well enough himself that the problems couldn't disappear as the symptoms could. And if Dawson was anything like he was, he would hate to speak about it.
"What can I help you with?"
Dawson didn't sit as Lucille and Tommy did. Instead, he stood, clutching his hat tightly in his hands, feet shuffling. Tommy frowned.
"Well, you remember Ethel?" Dawson began.
Tommy closed his eyes, trying to shake his thoughts of the images that come up with the mention of the old woman's name. His friend didn't blush and stutter with embarrassment like he usually would.
"Hard to forget after those fucking pictures," Tommy said.
Dawson's lips thinned with worry. "Yeah, well, I ended things with her. Turns out she told her husband a few things and now he's a little angry with me," he said. "A lot angry, actually."
Dawson suddenly jumped in his spot, itching toward the tucked in chair, pulling it out with a harsh scrape. He sat, leaning his body over the table, his hands gripping the hat like a lifeline. Something about his fidgeting body and wide eyes made Tommy feel unsettled.
"Her husband, he wants me dead. He's got friends as all wealthy people do," Dawson continued, a newfound edge to his voice. "But there's this one man who's been giving me real trouble. Threatening to take my club right from under me. And I wouldn't come to you asking so much for anything, but my club... I've worked for it my whole life."
The fact that Dawson placed the value of his club above his own life made Tommy feel worse than he already did, so, he said, "I'd like to think that you would ask for my help with anything, Dawson. You're like family."
Dawson didn't reply. Tommy shared a nervous glance with Lucille.
"Who's giving you trouble, eh?" he asked.
Dawson's face burned red, an angry crimson that extended past the collar of his shirt. The flat of his hand connected with the table as he let out a frustrated shout.
"That's half the problem," he said loudly, pushing to his feet, hands in a fist. "It's the 'king of the fucking racecourse gangs'. It's Darby fucking Sabini."
Sorry it's so short but... That's part three done! Four is next. I'm going to post the part divider with the quote and aesthetics in about ten mins!
