Forbidden Alliances // Alfie Solomons Peaky Blinders

(152) Fuck a Soul,

*edited 04/16/23*

Hi. Just a little update. I went through all these chapters and merged a lot together and put old chapters into my unpublished folder because all the comments on those have been really heartwarming and I felt I needed to reduce the number of chapters I have in this story. So if things look different, that's why. I also didn't realize how close we are to the end and I've been getting really anxious about it because I don't want to disappoint. I know what I want, and that's not gonna change, but I'm not sure if it's the way to send it off. I just don't know where to end it lol. Whatever I end up going with, I hope it was well-deserved. I love y'all!

-V

Charles' weight calmed the tightness in Freya's chest as he slept. She was only able to rest knowing the fact there was no safer place for him to be than in her embrace.

She draped her arms over the child's back as his face was pressed to her collar, holding some sort of pressure over her wound as Michael drove them to the den. Polly and Ada would be there and Heavens knew no one would protect that child harder than the women of the company—of the family.

Freya and Charles both slept for the entirety of the trip, not getting back until eight at night. It wasn't until the child began to squirm that Freya woke from her empty dream.

Charles was awake when she came to. He didn't cry but rather resorted to a cuddle as they sat in the still darkness. The car was parked so Freya turned to the driver's seat, finding Michael to be staring blankly at the wheel.

She placed a kiss on Charles's forehead and shifted in her seat. "Michael?" she called out softly, realizing how hoarse and gravelly her voice sounded.

Her cousin didn't move from his position. It was as if he hadn't heard her at all. She blinked a few times to focus her attention on his eyes and saw how vacant they were. She furrowed her brows and adjusted Charles so he was sitting upright on her lap.

"Michael?" she said a little louder, but again, he was unresponsive. "Michael? Hey..." she repeated, lifting her arm so she could nudge him. She dropped her handkerchief into the seat between them and it wasn't until then did she remember what happened at St. Josephs.

"We should head inside..." Michael finally spoke, opening his door without making eye contact, and slowly exiting the vehicle.

Freya furrowed her brows sympathetically and stepped out into the chilly night air. She rounded the car and saw the messy streaks of blood painted across Michael's face as if he tried to clean himself off and failed.

"Michael..." she whispered, slowly taking her sleeve and rubbing at his cheeks to help. She didn't want to frighten him and she didn't want to baby him, but she couldn't let him go without trying to help. Hughes' blood was dried by then and Freya's rubbing didn't do any good so she stopped. She was surprised he didn't jump or push her away but instead stared at the ground with a dismal look in his eyes.

When they finally entered the den, hurried footsteps approached them as they neared the offices. Ada and Polly came toward them with relieved smiles spread across their faces, hurrying for Charles, planting several kisses, and wrapping him up in hugs now that he was home. However, their glee didn't last long once they saw all the blood on Freya and Michael's faces.

Ada was horrified as she faced her sister. Freya's eyes were swollen and the circles around them were purple. There was a small slit in her lip and the scar on her eyebrow didn't make her look any cleaner. There were lines running down one side of her cheek, dried skin curled up into small balls like lint in the replacement of Hughes's fingertips. She had one sleeve soaked in blood, most of which was dry now, and her hair was all matted into a knotted bun.