v. dying light

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CHAPTER FIVE:DYING LIGHT

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CHAPTER FIVE:
DYING LIGHT

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MAYBE, IT WAS TIME for Helen to find a new pub to haunt. As it was, the Shelbys frequented the snug every other day, the closed-off door always leaving Helen with a foreboding feeling. That, and rumour had it the new barmaid, Grace, had successfully caught Thomas Shelby's eye. Everywhere she turned, people whispered about seeing them together. Sometimes, Helen even heard her own name muttered like some kind of curse.

Yes, that's her.

The Mavis lady.

Do you think she still loves him?

They do look awfully similar, Helen and that Grace girl—

Or maybe that was just Helen's heart warning her, taunting...

Her worst enemy yet.

The only one she'd lost to, time and time again.

Helen watched, her red-painted lips pursed in a thin line, as Grace left the snug with an empty tray and a giddy smile. No one was paying her attention for once; rather, the men were too busy drunkenly singing (shrieking) along to a tune lead by a woman sitting on the bar-top.

But Helen watched her, that Grace girl. And she recognised her smile, too.

Tommy Shelby, even before he became Small Heath's very own God among men, was a charmer when it came to women. Greta Jurossi had liked him during their school days, even said as much to Helen when Tommy started publicly courting her. Wherever Tommy went, a line of admirers followed, and now more than ever would be no different. Helen recognised Grace's smile because Tommy used to make her smile like that.

Jealousy was a green-eyed monster and Helen Mavis was ashamed to say she was its latest victim.

Yes, now was the perfect time for Helen to find a new pub to haunt. Tommy could see whoever he wanted. Let him marry Grace Burgess for all she cared. She just didn't want a front-row seat to their courtship, glutton for punishment or not.

She downed the last of her drink, slammed the empty glass down onto the table and shrugged on her coat, turning towards the door just as it swung open. In marched two unfamiliar men. Normally, Helen wouldn't have paid them any mind; she would've walked right by them without a second thought. But these particular men were different. Both held guns with the safety switched off, and Helen could tell they meant business.

The drunken crowd parted like the red sea.

The singing was quick to stop.

The door opened again, and—

"Holy shit," Helen heard Harry gasp from his place behind the bar. "It's Billy Kimber."

Now that was a name Helen recognised. And all she could think was holy shit, indeed.

SEDATED ━━ tommy shelbyWhere stories live. Discover now