Kimber's Dilemma - Tommy Shelby x Reader Fan Fic

Chapter 20

I slip beneath the bedsheets, restless with my head spinning. Tommy's not here. The drunk part of my brain wants to go look for him, but I silence it down. The jolt of adrenaline seems to be sobering me up.

Mine.

My head spins. I can't tell if it's from the alcohol or from Tommy.

I sleep before I know it, the whiskey lulling me under with little effort. It might be the easiest sleep I've ever had. But when I wake in the morning, daylight streaming through the windows, a resounding pain thrums through my head. I spent all night wondering why everyone doesn't drink themselves to oblivion more often. Things become light, carefree. Pain doesn't hurt as badly.

As the effects of my first hangover settle in, I realise this is why.

Wincing, I shield my eyes from the light, my body trembling as I pull myself up. Everything is throbbing, bruising, hurting. A dull ache spreads across the burn on my arm. I don't even want to touch my jaw.

But my tongue feels like cotton, and as I prepare myself to brave the house in search of water, I find a fresh glass on the nightstand. I gulp it back feverishly, like it's the ambrosia of the gods. Water's never tasted so good in all my life — I could drown myself in an entire pitcher of it without coming up for breath.

Once the dehydrated, reptilian hunter-gatherer portion of my mind has calmed down, I find a note next to the water glass.

Dentist on Main Street, 12.45. He's expecting you.

That's all. No signature, though I know it must be from Tommy. My fingertips trace across the letters written in cursive. A dentist... that's one less thing to worry about.

Rustling through my duffel bag, I throw a long, maroon cardigan over my slip nightdress. Thankfully I thought to pack woollen socks, and I tug a pair onto my feet to fend off the morning chill. Voices creep through the walls, the floorboards, from the house below. I stiffen in fear. I'm a Kimber in a house of Shelby's. This can't end well.

But I refuse to be a coward. I'll have to face them eventually. It's that, or rot away in Tommy's bedroom for the rest of eternity. And though I wish I at least had a gun in my pocket, I brace myself and venture out to meet them.

John's sat at the kitchen table when I enter, holding a newspaper wide before him and sipping on a cup of tea. There's a sizzling from the stove, and I duck my head round to see Arthur frying up bacon in the kitchen. The last time I saw him, he'd been seconds away from shooting my father in the face. This time, he's wearing a pink apron to cover his suit.

They both stare at me like I've materialised out of thin air. John's newspaper falls in sheets to his lap.

"Kimber," he finally says, unable to peel his eyes from me even as he gathers up the mess.

I try not to scowl. Did Tommy not tell his brothers I'm here? Does he expect me to scurry in and out of the house like a prostitute?

"Morning." I sit beside John at the table and pour a strong coffee from the French press. I doubt I'll be able to chew any food with my mouth in its current state, so liquid fuel it is.

"Breakfast?" Arthur calls out to us both.

On second thought, the wafting smell of bacon does have me thinking I ought to at least try eating before ruling it out... "Yes please," I call back, before turning to face John. "Where's Tommy?"

He grins. "Afraid he's not the type to cuddle with you the morning after."

"Lucky for him, neither am I."

Arthur sniggers from the kitchen. "Don't mind old Johnny boy here, every time he gets a woman in bed he lasts all of three minutes. And she leaves pregnant, to boot."

Rather than being offended, John laughs as loud as Arthur. "At least I've had a woman in my fucking bed," he says, shaking his head. "Sorry, Kimber. You haven't even had your morning coffee yet."

I fight a smile of my own at their banter. "Not that it's any of your business, but Tommy and I didn't share a bed."

"He wouldn't even sleep next to you afterwards?" Arthur tuts, shaking his head as he plates up bacon and eggs. "That's cold, even for Tommy."

"Come off it, Arthur, the fact he let Kimber stay the night speaks volumes." John accepts his plate and begins tucking in. "He's not had a girl over before."

"True," Arthur says, placing my breakfast on the table. "Normally goes elsewhere for his escapades, doesn't he, John?"

"Well you'll be disappointed to know there were no escapades here," I tell them, trying not to let thought of Tommy's former exploits bother me.

"Right," John says sarcastically, drawing the word out through his mouthful of toast. "What did you get up to then, eh? Game of chess? Charades?"

"We talked. We drank whiskey. He bandaged my arm." Fuck, the bacon's good, even if I can only chew on one side. My hungover stomach settles instantly.

"Yeah, I wondered what had happened to you," Arthur frowns. "Who'd you piss off, eh?"

"One man or another." I decide to change the subject. "I need to see the dentist on Main Street this afternoon. Any idea where that is?"

"'Course," John says. "I've been meaning to see the tailor up those ways, anyway. I can take you."

***

The dentist turns out to be a kind man who quickly sets to work, replacing my tooth in under an hour. When he holds up a mirror, I see a flash of gold — the replacement tooth. I stare at it. The whole thing's made of pure gold, and set in my mouth like it belongs there.

"I'll need to go to the bank," I murmur, already dreading how much this will cost. I should have been more specific when I came in.

"No need, miss. Thomas Shelby has put it on his account."

I frown. "Absolutely not. I'll only be ten minutes."

"You'll need a braver man than me to defy a Shelby's orders." The dentist packs away his tools. "You want to square it up, do it with him directly. I'm not accepting a single penny."

"Where is Tommy?" I ask John as we walk back to the house.

First, I need to whack him round the shoulder for buying me a golden fucking tooth. Then, I need to repay him. And finally, I don't feel I can overstay my welcome if he's still not home. We never actually discussed any arrangement. He just left. And it would be rude of me to presume I can simply stay at his house. In fact, the whole thing would be a bit weird, I decide. I'm the daughter of his enemy. I'll need to find somewhere else.

"He's working," John answers. "Think he went down to London to handle business there."

My eyes widen, hoping John won't notice as apprehension boils inside me. It doesn't mean he's seeing Alfie. Or my father, I try to reassure myself. He'll probably be back by now, anyway.

But when we get back to the house, there's still no sign of him. I pack my bag slowly, lingering in case he shows up. Wanting to thank him, to repay him for the dentist. But finally I'm forced to admit defeat, rustling through the bag for my cheque book and leaving a slip on top of the note beside his bed.

"Well, I'm off," I call through the house, one hand on the front door.

Arthur emerges from the betting shop. "Sure you don't want to stay for a cup of tea?" He asks, swinging one arm awkwardly.

I smile, but shake my head. "I'm alright thanks. Good luck getting a woman in your bed."

He cackles. "Yeah, yeah, alright. Take care of yourself."

I slip through the door, into the cold. Take a moment to gather my thoughts. Standing up to my father had felt good at the time. Had felt like the right thing to do.

But now I'm stranded in the streets of Small Heath.