Created by the devil

Salvation.

Gia feels someone putting some of her hair behind her ear. Her thick eyelashes flutter open as of she had just been dreaming the sweetest of dreams.

Everything is hazy at first, but she can slowly start making out a shadow next to her. She stares at the silhouette until it becomes more clear. Some part of her would've predicted Tommy to sit next to her, but it was Esme.

She looks down to see herself sitting in a hospital bed. Esme's voice resonates in the empty room before she can ask what happened.

"Take it easy, love. You took a big shock there." Esme takes Gia's hand in hers. She clears her throat before her painfully sore voice gets out, "Elijah."

Esme smiles before saying, "He's safe. John took him to ours. When Tommy called for me to come over, I called Polly." Esme's hands leave Gia's to get a cigarette out of her bag. That's when Gia starts to slowly remember what happened.

A sharp shooting pain.

"Gia?" He yells.

Blood spreading.

Leaving some blood behind on her olive skin.

"Stay with me, Gia! I can't lose you... I'm begging you, Gia, look me in the eyes."

She lifts her upper body a bit. Her sore voice hurts less the more she uses it, "Tommy." Esme quickly shuts her down by saying, "He had to deal with some business. A Jew or something in central London."

Esme notices Gia's sad expression. "Don't look so morbid. We're better off without them anyway." Gia furrows her brows "Them?" She questions. "Men, Gia. Don't get me wrong, I love John, but I would love to strangle him sometimes." She ends her sentence with a smile.

"But he did say to call the address he gave to the guards outside." Esme stands up and opens the door. Gia hears her practically yell, "Oi, you fuckers what's the address."

A small man gives her a piece of paper, and she doesn't waste any time quickly turning around and closing the door in his face. Esme takes the phone, which was sitting next to the door, in her hand.

Gia hears someone speak on the phone before Esme answers, "Pass me trough to Camden Town, London. Number 24." Esme picks up the phone and sits down before placing it on her lap.

She hears someone pick up and immediately asks, "Tommy?" A big sigh goes through the phone. "Tom, it's for you." A thick accent says. "Thank you, Alfie." She hears Tommy's voice.

"Yeah, Esme?" Tommy clears his throat. "She's awake." Her voice softens. "Will you pass her trough, ey?" He asks in the same cold voice.

Esme stands up and walks to Gia's bed. She gives the phone to Gia, and encourages her, "Go ahead." Gia picks up the phone and puts it against her ear.

"Tommy?" She hears a sigh of relief on the other side. "You doing good, Gia?" He asks in a softer tone. "Euh... Yeah." She thinks about it. She hasn't really felt any pain since she woke up. Sure, she fell sore, but she wasn't really in pain.

"Good, if anything changes, call me." He tones. Gia nods, and before she could put the phone down his voice intervenes, "Gia?" She hears him breathing loudly. "Yes?" She asks unsure.

"You don't have to be brave if you don't feel like it. I'll love you anyway." He tells her. "I love you too, Tommy." She softly smiles.

That's when she realizes, those were the words she wanted to hear her entire life. The words that just left his mouth were like a key to liberty. She doesn't have to be brave.

Gia is always brave cause she doesn't want somebody to take care of her. She took care of people. 

Now, she has this broken man telling her that he would take care of her. Even if she doesn't want to. Those sweet words sound like salvation to her.

"You done?" Alfie asks Tommy, who keeps himself from rolling his eyes. He passes the phone back to Alfie, who places it next to him on his bureau. "So, you sat here for almost an hour, wasting my fucking time, to get a phone call from your girlfriend?" He asks.

"That phone call from my wife decided whether I would kill or not. I guess you're a lucky man." Tommy takes a drag from his cigarette. "Cause if I got a phone call to tell me she was dead, you would've met her on your way to hell." The smoke is swiftly blown out of his mouth.

He stands up and straightens his vest. His hands fishes out a cigarette from his pocket, which  he puts on Alfie's paper. "If I somewhat hear about your fucking war ever again, I'll make sure you're the one who loses it."

Tommy walks towards the door but is stopped by Alfie. "You actually think I asked them to put a fucking bullet in her?" Alfie asks dumbfounded. "Just come back in here and sit your sweet arse down. We have an understanding." He tries as he stands up slowly.

"We fucking do. I understand that I ordered my men to get back to Birmingham about an hour ago." Tommy get's closer to Alfie's bureau.

"I fucking understand that they took my weapons with them, and now you understand that you're on your own." Tommy fumes. "It's not even one of my men who shot her." Alfie states with his fist on the table.

"It was a bullet meant for me, but it hit my wife, Alfie. I don't care whose bullet it was. If she was dead, I would've killed everyone." Tommy states loudly. Alfie nods and walks closer to Tommy's face.

He says, "The Italians are not planning on leaving. After me, It'll be you, and then the Russians. They're the fucking mafia, Tommy. If I go down, then you're next in line. Especially after yesterday, they'll be more hungry for dead on the streets. I poked the fucking bear, and now they're angry. You think you can outsmart them. Cause, let me tell you, it's not about who the smartest man is. They come here with the mindset of having everything because they already have everything. They have money, men, arms, their God, and coppers on their side. They are the law even though they haven't even been to the place yet. So, tell me what you're going to do when they burst through your door and enter that ignorant bubble of yours?"

"Then we'll show them why you do not fuck with the Peaky Blinders." Tommy softly, almost unsure, says back. "We've grown, we became stronger, Alfie. We're bigger than ever before."

Alfie starts laughing, "You really think you can win a war with the fucking mafia? Have you gone mad, Tom? I know intelligence is important in this business, and you are a smart man. But these people are born with the devil in their veins."

He stays silent. Alfie sits Tommy down in the seat behind him and leans back against the bureau to say, "Listen, before all of this shit, it was just me and Sabini. The Sicilians gained that fuckers trust. Do you know where he is? He's as dead as their Jezus himself. Those people got traditions. They don't trust anyone, but their own blood. If you think you can charm your way up to them with your gypsy blood. Then I think you deserve to be called the stupidest man alive."

"One day, Alfie. The Shelby's will change the world." Tommy tells him confidently as he stands back up. "You might think because you have one of them on your side that they'll soften, but have you seen any remorse in the hours since they shot her?"

"Be damned, they shot their very own, even if it wasn't on purpose." He puts his hand on Tommy's shoulder. "Trust me, in a time like this I even want to work with fuckers like you."