After an unexplainable accident Annabelle finds herself hundred years in the past. In the boom of the 1920s, the era of Jazz and bootleggers. But it's not just the 20s she now has to deal with, she also happens to find herself stumble right into the...
"Alright we have about ten minutes. Make your peace with whoever."
Tommy's motivational speech could be heard all the way into the garrison, where I was enjoying a cup of freshly brewed black coffee. Might just be my last one, who knows.
"It's good to have you back here, Miss Lancom. Nobody else in Small Heath seems to enjoy my coffee as much as you do."
Harry was packing up boxes of empty bottles, which he carried out back one by one.
"I'm glad to be back as well, Harry."
Was I thought? Reuniting with my people here has made me cry more tears than in all the months before. Just as the barkeeper left the salon once more, the front door to my right swung open. I took a quick glance at the person, before returning my attention back to my coffee.
'make your peace with whoever' yea he can shove that peace up his little white ass-
"I hope you don't expect me to beg for your forgiveness."
"It would be delusional of me to think you'd actually mean it."
For a moment it was dead silent between us, the only noise heard was the clashing of a whiskey glass against a counter.
"However I believe it's up to me to apologize for my harsh words from earlier."
"Ok. I don't forgive you."
Call it petty or whatever but what he said earlier was definitely not forgotten after that lousy excuse of an apology. I don't believe he actually has it in him to apologise.
"And now give me your gun."
"What?"
"You heard me. Give me your gun, Thomas."
"I'm not giving you a gun, Lancom."
"I'm sure as fuck not going to sit around in here while y'all are getting shot out there."
He was stupid if he actually believed that.
"You cannot go out there with us, you're a wo-"
"Don't you dare say what you were about to say, Shelby."
At this point both of us where standing face to face, the only thing between us being the countertop. He'd probably look far more intimidating if he wasn't just two or three inches taller than me.
"Is that why you're dressed like you just ventured through Arthur's wardrobe?"
After another moment of hesitance, he pulled one of his guns out of his blazer and placed it on the counter.
