Bancroft - Peaky Blinders Reverse Harem x Reader

Chapter 58

I wake the next morning with my head resting on John's chest. I stay there for a moment, just breathing. My happiness. My place of calm. He holds me close, both of us silent, listening to the birdsong come through the window.

"I must say, I'm less motivated to eat breakfast when you're not making it," he tells me.

I sigh against him. "You need your strength. The mechanic could be a few hours yet."

"We'll call Tommy, see if Arthur can come pick us up while it's in the garage," he says.

It sounds like a good plan to me. I pull myself reluctantly away from him, stretching myself awake, and then going into the bathroom to run a bath. I'm trailing my hand through the water, mixing the hot and cold, when John comes in, too.

"No bubbles?" He asks.

"It's harder to get clean," I say.

"I disagree." He crumbles the soap between his fingers, holding it beneath the tap. "Bubbles are the only way to get clean."

The bath swells with them. I undress and step in, and can see the eagerness in John's eyes at the hot bath.

"Come on, then," I roll my eyes. "I think we're at the point by now we can bathe together."

He cups his genitals in one hand, swearing as he enters, and I laugh.

"You have it too hot," he says.

"And you have it too bubbly."

"Like the goldilocks of having a bloody wash."

"You'd make a great daddy bear." I cup bubbles in my hands and spread them across his face, biting my lip. "See?"

But it's no use. The sight of him, face covered in bubbles like a giant beard, has me laughing out loud. He shakes his head, grinning.

"Alright then, mummy bear."

I yelp and protest as he holds my face still, and smears bubbles across mine. I grimace at the taste of soap on my tongue, trying very hard to look unimpressed.

It only amuses him further.

"If only we had a baby bear," he muses.

I splash water at him. "You've already got four kids."

"I think ours would be different, though." He flicks at the bubbles. "Do you not want them at all?" He asks me. "Ever?"

"No." My answer is fast and harsh. "I want to focus on other things in my life. That's not so strange anymore. I read in a newspaper that many women feel the same way. We endured a war without men around. And we can have a marriage without children."

"Marriage, then?" He asks.

I smile in spite of myself. "And which of you would I choose?"

"We could take turns," he jokes. "A year with me. Divorce. A year with Arthur. Divorce. Ada might be trickier, but I suppose she could be your mistress."

"You know about Ada?" I ask.

"Of course I do." He rolls his eyes. "Her whole face lights up when you enter a room."

I'm a little surprised, but strangely pleased to hear it. The water's getting cold, and I wash the bubbles from my face.

"Come on," I tell him as I stand and dry myself off. "I'll bet there's eggs."

I'm only half dressed when we hear it.

A muffled bang.

I freeze, frowning. John and I lock eyes. He buttons his shirt, not even bothering to tuck it in, and grabs his pistol.

"Stay here," he tells me in a low voice.

To my credit, I try to obey, stationary as I finish zipping my dress.

"Not bloody likely," I finally decide, grabbing my own gun and following him downstairs.

I freeze as I enter the entrance hall. John's nowhere to be seen. It's eerily quiet and empty. I take a tentative step forward.

Now I can see the woman who owns the bed and breakfast, lying in the floor, face-down behind the desk. My brows twitch together, and I move forward to check if she's okay.

She lifts her head, and I see her face is covered in blood.

She shakes her head at me.

It's too late.

My arm holding the gun is ripped back with such force, there's a crack and a searing, blinding pain in my clavicle. I squeeze the trigger anyway, before the gun's wrenched from my clasp.

I scream as the three men hold me still, and I thrash about, trying to break free. There's a burning throbbing spreading all through my shoulder now, but I continue to try and wrench myself free, even as a thick cloth is pressed over my nose and mouth, and I can't breathe.

I manage to twist sideways, and then I see John. He's lying on the floor, completely unconscious, his face at peace.

He's already been chloroformed.

"Don't worry," says the Irish voice behind my head as everything spins and a giddy, light-headed feeling spreads through me. "We won't kill him. As long as you behave."

He says something else, but my eyes flicker shut and I'm unconscious before I can hear.