As the youngest Shelby child and twin to Finn Shelby, Kezia has spent the last 4 of her 10 years locked away for her mental defectiveness.
She returns to Small Heath under the legal guardianship of her brother, Thomas Shelby. Despite knowing she's s...
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CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
"Excuse me, miss?"
"Hello."
The young woman smiled. "Hello." A shyness sprinkled her features. "Do you know who I can speak to about cocaine?"
Kizzie had retired to one of the quieter rooms. All the laughter and music started to make her head thrum and muscles taut. Her small steps paced the length of the room in some attempt to recover and return to the party she had no desire to be part of.
The girl waited patiently. Pretty with a short, blunt bob styled in gelled waves. Kizzie wished to cut her hair that short, but there wasn't enough product in the world to make her frizz and curls behave. She didn't look like most girls her age. But she tried some months ago and it failed miserably.
Bought a short, tight dress with tassels at the edges. Earring for the ears she didn't have pierced. Stole a pack of Tommy's cigarettes. Found unused makeup Grace wouldn't miss.
Kizzie locked herself away in the bathroom one Tuesday evening after Grace and Tommy went out to dinner. She took out the straight razor from the cupboard above the sink. She'd seen her brothers shave their hair and cut it short with this thing for her entire life. Kizzie thought it would come naturally once in her hands, but uncertainty reflected back at her from the razor's edge.
Her hair nearly reached her backside when wet. She didn't care for her hair, but she was never allowed to play with it. Experiment and cut and color the way she had seen girls in magazines and in London. But she was eighteen now.
She put the razor down. She could try makeup first maybe; that wasn't so permanent.
Grace's lipstick was a burnt red color.
Kizzie licked her lips and placed the stick against her lower lip and pressed. She moved her hand gently to the right, toward the center. It felt like cream against her lips. A satisfying tingle spread down her spine as she removed the lipstick from her lips. Her lower lip was coated in red. She already looked like another person. Another woman, cooler and more interesting, stared back at her.
But girls had different lips than hers. They were round like buttons from far away and shaped like little hearts up close. Was it a trick to be learned?
Kizzie ignored the thought and applied the color to her upper lip. The result was far less beautiful. Her hand shook as she applied, making little ripples of red against the paleness of her skin. She used her finger to wipe away the excess but it smeared further onto her skin.
"Ah!"
She stomped her feet and shrieked. No. This would not stop her. Kizzie relaxed her shoulders and wiped away the sweat building on her warm forehead, doing her best to ignore the streak of red on her ugly mouth.
