Love and Lies • 𝑇𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑦 𝑆ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑏𝑦

Chapter Twenty-Four

The three keys Ann used to survive as long as she had, doing the things she did, were forethought, planning, and strategizing. It made the crazy events of the last two days - that involved her job - a lot easier to handle.

The targets house had been blown up - a circumstance she and Tommy came up with before everything turned to hell. They could now control the location, the assassination would take place.

But she needed a break now - even if it was just for an hour - so she avoided Birmingham, avoided London, ignored Campbell's call and focused on nothing but the crackling fire lit in the office of the her museum.

In the last couple of weeks, her hair had grown out to her collar bones, and for the first time in a while it wasn't curled. She ran her fingers through the dark strands and laid back on the carpet, staring up at the marble ceiling. She remembered lying in the same spot with Tommy, holding hands, twirling their fingers around each other's, talking about nothing. The memory felt like a punch in the gut.

Just as she was about to close her eyes when a soft knock tapped on the door. Ann sat up on the floor, her body feeling heavy as she sighed. "Come in." Her voice sounded strange to her ears. Quiet and hollow, almost lifeless, but the door opened anyway and Etienne walked in.

The museum was closed for the rest of the day, but he still roamed the building, ever the working man.

"Sorry mam." He said, his French accent always prominent. Despite being ten years her senior, he still used that title.

"Is everything alright?"

"There is someone here for you."

Ann instantly tensed and stood up as Etienne toyed with his hands, growing worried with each passing second.

"What?" She asked. Nobody knew she was here, this had to be a mistake.

"I tried telling him you were not here, but he didn't believe me." His face twisted with guilt. "I'm not good at being untruthful. So I told him you were unavailable, but he refuses to leave."

"Did they give you a name?" Her pulse quickened.

"Thomas Shelby, mam."

Her nails pressed into her palms when she felt a heat prick her neck. One glance over Etienne's shoulder, and she knew why. Tommy stood at the open door.

She swore her heart stopped beating when she met his eyes. For a few moments, neither of them moved, and Etienne just stood around awkwardly, watching Ann and Tommy hold a silent conversation with a gaze, their eyes never leaving each other.

Reality crept in and Ann recovered first, only to be pushed back down. If thinking about him was a punch in the gut, looking at him was like getting stabbed in the chest. "You can't be-." She stopped herself, slowly turning to Etienne. "Could you please give us a minute?"

Etienne nodded, his relief evident as he walked out the door and disappeared down the hall.

"How'd you know I was here?"

"I didn't." Tommy said, his throat flexing with a hard swallow. He took a step towards her, but stopped, his flickering with uncertainty as they searched her face for permission. She had never seen him look so nervous. Maybe something was wrong in London.

She nodded and he stepped into the office, closing the door at his back.

"I searched the places I thought you could be." He said.

That must have taken him hours. Something was definitely wrong. "Why are you here? Did Campb-"

"No." He reassured. And even though that should of relaxed her, it only made her heart race. He wasn't here for business. She wrapped her arms around herself, chilled to the bone, even though the fire warmed the entire room.

He read the pain and realisation on her face. "I know." He exhaled a shaky breath, his brows drawn tight over his eyes. He looked less polished than usual, with his rumpled, like he'd been expressing too much frustration.

The silence that remained was a heavy fog of sadness and exhaustion.

"I'm tired." She breathed, and Tommy nodded, walking towards her - slow, like he was waiting for her to tell him to go away again. But she didn't, and he stopped right in front of her. He looked down at her hands for a few seconds before he reached for them. Cautious fingers brushed her fingertips for a breath, and a spark of warmth searched for a chance. She didn't move.

"What do you want me to do?" He asked quietly, his expression open, and as unguarded as he could allow himself to be. Another attempt at vulnerability, a better attempt.

She squeezed her eyes shut, and her head dropped, only to be lifted back up by Tommy, his hand cupping her face. This was the most they'd touched in two years. She leaned into his warmth, skating down her spine, as she heard him take a deep breath.

"You have to tell what to do to make you see that I love you Liena." He said softly, and her eyes flew open,

"What did you just call me?"

Tommy rubbed his thumb over the curve of her jaw, his face screwed with confusion.

"You called me Liena." Her eyes shone with tears.

He nodded as realisation slowly dawned on him. "There are no if's or maybes." He paused, and they looked at each other for a long time, but didn't speak. His eyes searched hers, but without the weight of fear and expectation, only for hope that she heard him. "No matter your name, you are the woman I love."

She buried her face in his chest, and he instantly wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. He smelled like warmth, spice, and caramel. It was so familiar, it made her heart hurt.

"It always ends like this." She said finally. "Even when I try to avoid, fight it. I try to forget how I feel...I try to forget you, but..." She closed her eyes. "I'm always end up right here with you."

He pressed his lips to her head, breathing her in, relishing the feel of her against him.

"Then stop trying." He said, a desperate strain in his voice. "Don't do that to me." He moved so he could look down at her, but kept his arms around her. She opened her eyes. "I don't know what will happen to me if you..." He cleared his throat. "Just stop trying. No more running."

Her eyes passed over his expression, and she swallowed hard at the intensity of the plead in his eyes. "Okay," she said.

The word had barely left my mouth before he took her face in his hands again, and crushed his lips to her, slow and deep. Pressed against him, she felt a shudder of relief ripple through him. The promise of a future together hushed everything beyond the beat of her pulse against his, and the fire of his touch.

When she pulled away, he followed her, inching his face toward her, barely allowing a breath before kissing her again, intensifying their embrace.