Kimber's Dilemma - Tommy Shelby x Reader Fan Fic

Chapter 3

The visit from the Shelby's sets Father off even worse than usual. He fires half the security around the house, hiring all new men. And then he becomes paranoid the ones he fired will blab, so he has them reinstated under threat of torture if they betray him.

It doesn't matter much to me. The new men don't know my secret ways in and out any better than the old ones.

I sneak out through the kitchen side-door, taking advantage of Father and all his boys in the area being holed up in the grand room for a meeting. When this house was first built, this had been the servant's entrance, designed so they would remain invisible, unseen, as they came and went.

It's the one and only time I'll be thankful to the gentry.

I emerge onto a path overgrown with shrubbery, hidden from view of the house. A growth of trees continues to shield me from view as I slip further and further from the building. Sticking closely to the fenced paddocks, I wind my way around the property, and... shit.

I'd forgotten they moved Spangles into this paddock.

The palomino horse nickers when he sees me, trotting excitedly over to the fence.

"Not now!" I whisper, worried he'll cause a fuss and give me away.

But he seems to understand, quieting and only staring at me with guilt-inducing eyes as I leave. I make a silent promise to see him later this afternoon, to bring him a bag of carrots and brush him down.

Even so, I hold my breath, expecting security men to appear. We have enough of them around the bloody place. But there's none as I reach the garage building, a red tin shed, large enough to house all the cars used by the Birmingham Boys.

All the ones up this end of the country, that is. But I doubt whoever stole the guns would have gone to all the trouble of taking a car from the London office.

There are five cars in total lining the building, all sleek and black with round headlights and curved bonnets. My footsteps echo through the converted barn, an eerie sound.

I'm not sure what to look for, exactly. But I inspect the tires, deciding mud is a good enough place to start. Tommy mentioned digging, and it had rained that night — I can still remember how it fell across my skin as I made my way home, riding Spangles in the secret dark.

That narrows it down to three vehicles with mud-caked tires, I note proudly — unless the thief had the sense to clean the car afterwards. I search them one at a time, on the lookout for anything suspicious.

The first car offers up only a clump of auburn hair on the seat. I frown — it looks like malted dog hair more than anything, and there's been a few hunts lately.  But still I lift it in my fingers, wrapping it in a handkerchief and pocketing it as evidence. I'm not leaving anything out.

The next car contains nothing suspicious on first sight, which in itself raises my suspicions. I pry my hands beneath the steering wheel, into the joins, trying to think where I would forget to clean up if I were a thief.

I bend across the back seats, uncaring that my ass sticks out in an undignified position as I peer around. Or that my cream trousers are covered in grease and fuel marks, rubber residue. I'll have to change quickly when I get back.

I glance upwards, ready to give up all hope, when I finally see it. "Bingo," I murmur.

There's a rip in the canvas roof, like it's been slashed by a knife. I run my fingers across the seam, tapping lightly against the frame. It could be explainable.

Or it could not.

"That's a lovely view."

The voice startles me. I jerk instinctively upright, cracking my head on the frame of the car. Searing pain shoots through my skull, red-hot and spreading down my neck. Swears tumble from my lips as I push myself out, eyes burning as I stand upright, ready to throttle whoever caught me.

Thomas Shelby's eyes glitter. "The forest," he continues, drawing on a cigarette. "It's a lovely view from here."

I shoot him the darkest glare I can manage. Forest, my ass — literally.

"Leave now, or I'll call for security," I say.

He raises an eyebrow. "And have them find you snooping around the company cars? Looks like you're destroying evidence, wouldn't you say?"

Fuck. I hadn't even thought of that. But I'm not about to admit it. I turn away from him, infuriated. "If my father sees you here—"

"He might think we're conspiring together? Might not be so quick to say his grown daughter had nothing better to do on a Friday night than stay in and read a book?"

"I have nothing to prove to you." I storm across the garage to the last car with muddy tires, my vision sparking at the edges. I'll have to raid the last of Mother's medicine cabinet when I get back — it'll take more than an ice pack to numb this pain.

"Then what are you doing, bent over cars like that?"

I throw my hands in the air and whirl around, exasperated. "Why are you here?"

He nods towards the vehicles. "Same reason as you. I don't trust your father."

"I trust him." A lie. My second one to this man, I realise. "We've been framed. And I'm going to prove it."

Something niggles at me as I turn to continue searching the car. I realise, all too late, that I'm giving away far too much of my plan. Thomas baited me into telling him why I'm here. And I fell for it, like an idiot.

"Find anything interesting?" He asks.

I laugh emotionlessly. "As if I'd tell you."

"Isn't it me you're proving it to, Kimber?"

Fuck. He's got me there again.

"I don't like you," I say resolutely, facing him once more.

"I don't much like you either." He exhales and throws his cigarette onto the floor.

"Would you not?" I ask, storming over and picking it up. Gravel scrapes beneath my fingernails. "They can't know we were here."

"It seems you have a lot more to lose than I do." He walks slowly through the garage to the last car, turning his head over his shoulder. "You coming?"

I'm going to kill him, I decide, as I'm left with no choice but to follow. I'm going to take his stupid hat and slash it across his throat and dance while he bleeds.

He leans into the frame of the car, searching it just as thoroughly as I searched the others. I wonder just how long he'd been watching me before he said anything.

Not wanting to look useless, I take the other side of the car. My head continues to pound as I run my fingers across the seams of the roof, beneath the seats, behind the steering wheel. We both reach for the gear stick at the same time. I flinch my hand away, and Tommy's eyebrows raise in contempt. I scowl, fighting heat at my cheeks as I turn my attention to the footwell.

"Can we get into the boot?" He asks once we've searched every other available inch of space.

"We don't have the keys."

"Do you know where they're kept?"

"Yes." I pause, refusing to give him any more information.

"Lucky timing," he remarks. "With everyone at your father's meeting."

I sense the pointed tone, accompanied by his stare. "I'm not stealing the keys," I say incredulously.

"Alright," Tommy sighs. He gets out of the car. "Suppose I'll have to do it."