Until I Found You

Chapter Two

Birmingham, England - 1922

Thomas Shelby thought his head was going to explode.

He sat up in his bed and stared at the woman next to him; she was asleep on her stomach, naked, and her black hair fell like a curtain in front of her face. Thomas did not have to peek under his covers to know that he was also without clothes.

Water, he thought as he swung his legs from off his bed and stood up, I need water.

There were two things that Thomas knew for certain: he had consumed way too much scotch the night before at the Garrison, and he had no idea who the woman laying in his bed was; nor did he care. This would not be the first morning he awoke with a prostitute in his bed–or the last morning.

The woman rustled and turned to look at him. "Good morning, Mr. Shelby," she greeted with a smirk. "Too early for you to do it again?"

"Go home," Thomas said without turning to look at her. He did not even bother to cover himself up as he walked around his room.

"What?" The woman sat up, confused. "I presumed you had enjoyed my services last night."

Thomas grabbed the covers he assumed were hers and handed them to her. "I paid for your services last night. You may go now." He grabbed coins that were laying on top of his mahogany dresser and handed them to her. "I assume you know your way out."

The woman narrowed her dark eyes at him as she began putting her shirt on. "What is my name?"

With a shrug, Thomas began to put on his undergarments. "I do not believe I paid you to tell me that."

"Wow, for all of the talk I hear about the great Thomas Shelby, I was not aware of your terrible bedside manners," the woman grimaced as she put on her bottoms, climbing out of bed to do so. "Even if you are well worth the time."

This would not be the first woman who held hopes of prolonging her rendezvous with Thomas Shelby. Thomas frequented many casual lovers–most of the time, they did not request payment. They simply wanted to spend a night with Thomas Shelby. He was handsome at his age of twenty-nine, though he may not always rely on his looks and preferred to use his charms and cunning intelligence; he was considered far more intelligent than most men his age, almost wiser. His bright blue eyes were intense, his lips were full, his facial bone structure sharp, and his hair black as night.

"When will you come see me again?" The woman asked as she fastened her shoes.

Thomas grabbed a cigarette off his desk and placed it between his lips, searching for a match. "For fuck's sake, woman," he said as he lit the end of his cigarette and inhaled. "Do you not know what it means to be a whore?"

One would think the woman would seem taken aback by her comment, but she barely flinched at his words. "I find you to be intriguing, and the best man I've ever had," she continued. "You cannot blame me for wanting more."

"Thomas!" A voice boomed before the door to his room opened. Arthur Shelby, Thomas' older brother, stood at the door. "We have a meeting at the Garrison and you are running late." He did not even glance in the direction of the woman standing in his younger brother's room; he was used to this. "Hurry up, eh?"

Thomas nodded as he began getting dressed, the cigarette remaining in his mouth. It took him just seconds to pull himself together. "Make your way out," he said to the woman before following his brother out the door and closing it behind him.

"You look like shit," Arthur commented as he took in his brother's appearance.

"Long night last night," Thomas remarked with a chuckle.