wishing wells - michael gray

fourteen

"What is your problem?" Elsie said, yanking her arm away from Michael. Michael paced the guest room they were sharing angrily. 

"John? Really, Elsie? Fucking John?" he seethed. 

Elsie rolled her eyes and took a seat on the bed. "He kissed me. I didn't even kiss him back." 

"You didn't push him away," he scoffed, angrily removing his coat. 

"And why do you care, Henry?" 

"Oh for fucks sake, Elsie. He's married with kids." 

"I know, and I told John nothing can happen because of it." Elsie stared at him blankly, watching angrily begin to untie his shoes. "What's your problem, anyways?" 

"What's my problem?" Michael laughed angrily. "You are my fucking problem." 

"Fuck you, Henry," she groaned. 

In one swift movement, Michael grabbed her by the throat and slammed her down on the bed. 

"Henry?" he breathed out, the whiskey on his breath filling her senses. "Henry is gone. My name is Michael fucking Gray." 

She laid there, too petrified to move and too suffocated to speak. Michael let her throat go and laid down beside her. The pair laid there in silence, lost in their thoughts.

"Why did you want to learn to shoot?" she asked quietly, turning over to face him. 

Michael exhaled slowly. "I can't tell you. It's Blinder business." 

Elsie pondered in her thoughts for a moment. "Alright. So you've never killed anyone?" 

Michael uncomfortably shifted his weight. "No. Never." 

Neither of them spoke, and fell asleep in silence. 

* * * 

Elsie sat on the bed reading a book she had found in Tommy's library. She'd never admit it, but it was a dirty book and her curiosity got the better of her. Michael had gone to London to visit Tommy, who apparently suffered an injury. She didn't press the matter and chose to sit alone to get away from the boys. She was startled by a knock on the door. 

"Come in!" she called out, closing her book quickly. 

Tommy, with fresh bandages, walked in with Michael behind him. Tommy nodded for Michael to sit next to her. 

"Michael visited this morning and mentioned he also knew the priest," Tommy said, closing the door behind him. Elsie looked at Michael and then looked to the floor. "I'll ask you both this one time. What did he do to you?" 

Michael and Elsie sat in silence, neither wanting to say. 

"Just tell me," Tommy said in the softest voice either of them have ever heard, lighting a cigar. 

"He...used to favor me and take me to the back room," Elsie whispered. "And then one day, Michael stood in front of me and the priest took him instead. The priest took me less when he started to favor Michael." 

Michael's jaw clenched and he looked down, away from Tommy. Tommy nodded and blew out smoke. He then reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small box, walking up to the kids. 

"Michael, in here you'll find a bullet," Tommy explained, handing him the box. "It has 'Hughes' engraved on it. When I tell you to, you fire a bullet into that fucker's brain. By order of the Peaky Blinders." 

With that, Tommy turned around and left. 

Elsie and Michael sat for a bit, while Michael held the small black box in his palm. Although it was a small thing, it felt like he was carrying the weight of the world. 

"Michael, that's why you wanted to shoot?" 

Michael clenched the box into a fist, put it in his pocket, and stood up to leave.