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fourteen

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fourteen


          The following weeks had been hectic for the Birmingham Gangster. Between preparing a move against the Italians, keeping a close watch on his men in the bakery and buying a new horse, he hadn't had a single moment to catch his breath. Although, he did manage to find moments of respite during his secret meetings with Yelena in his hotel suite. The solace he found with her within his arms was worth all the trouble he went through.

          As Thomas strode down the streets of London, his thoughts were plagued with his current enemies, the Italians. The previous night he had ordered an attack on Sabini's Eden Club and he knew to expect retaliation, yet what remained unknown was when and where. He pushed those thoughts aside as his blue gaze landed on Yelena.

          Always so elegantly dressed, the woman was leaning against a brick wall, a bagel between her hands as she chewed on the warm bread. She awaited her lover, clothed in the finest of silks of the time. She hadn't noticed the man approaching, too absorbed in her snacking, to look up. Her shields were lowered, and she didn't notice the dangers that lurked nearby.

           Thomas's entire world came to a sudden halt, as an arm wrapped around Yelena's waist, and pulled her struggling frame to disappear into the darkness of an alley. His heart fell hard to the pit of his stomach. Nothing could come close to describing the pure unadulterated fear he felt at that very moment. Thomas's walk immediately turned into a dash as he made his way through the bussing crowd, towards the direction where his woman once stood. His hand agitatedly reached his pocket pulling out his gun as his stammering heartbeat met his ears. It was all he could hear; all he could focus on as he ran.

          Yelena.

          The man turned the corner disappearing into the same darkness that had swallowed his woman, only to find her unconscious body on the ground, her head bleeding out from a large gash on her temple. His mind barely registered the blood splattered against the brick walls, where the attackers must have smashed her head against.

            His mind went blank as he wasted no time in reaching her side, his fingers reaching to feel a pulse over her blood covered neck. A shaky sigh of relief escaped his lips as he found a heartbeat, albeit slow and barely present; it didn't matter, as long as it was there.

"Help!"

*

          The hospital reeked of ammonium and other nameless cleaning products. Thomas paced anxiously in the waiting room; he had done what he was supposed to: call Alfie – when he asked the man for the number to contact any concerned family members of Yelena's, the man responded with a wide variety of insults before hanging up – and he called Ada, who he knew would be concerned about her friend as well. All that remained, was waiting for the doctor to report back.

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