𝐋𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧 𝐚 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 🍞PEAKY BLINDERS 🥖

Chapter Forty-Nine

She's a bit short but she's important.

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

Kizzie hoped tonight would be the last party she'd be forced to attend.

But at least she made a new friend.

"What things do you like to paint?"

Kizzie tossed around potential words in her head. Talking to strangers was still a foreign, frightening thing, but she wanted to get better at it. "Just colors mostly, I guess. They aren't shapes or people or things."

Her friend, Anton, had a look of realization. "Then, these are your portraits hanging on the walls?" His thick accent was like a blanket over Kizzie's anxiety.

"Mhm. My brother insists on hanging his favorites."

His thin lips pulled into a grin. "Then your brother has good taste."

"I guess so."

Movement began. Whispers of dinner being served floated through the air. Beside Kizzie, her sister stopped her communism talk and stood, urging Kizzie to do the same.

"Bye," Kizzie told her friend.

Humor softened his features. "'Bye'? Surely I will be seeing you again soon."

Kizzie didn't try to hide her smile. "Okay."

☻

"Grace?"

"Sir?"

Tommy turned to find Ozzy quickly approaching, face glistening with anxious sweat. "I'll be back down shortly. We can talk then."

"But, sir--"

Tommy shut the door in the boy's face. "Grace? You're needed downstairs." His wife stood at the vanity, fixing her makeup. Impatience itched his skin when she ignored him. "You're needed downstairs. People are hungry."

"I was putting Charles to sleep. I'll come down," she told him, walking past him toward the door. "But not with you like this."

"Alright, fine." He was at her heels, slamming the door shut. This was not an argument he needed to have today. There were too many parts to juggle. Too many uncertainties and insecurities without having his relationship with Kizzie mended. He needed more than a tug on his sleeve and a few words.

"I thought today was the reason for the way you've been acting lately... I know there's business on your mind. And I know there always will be."

"Yeah," he mumbled down to the carpet.

"Look, I am sorry they wore their uniforms!"

Anger flared in his stomach. "Yeah, they fucking did! They fucking did!" One final accusing finger at her before he retreated off into the dark bathroom. Today was meant to be a good day, one of his best, most favorite days. But here he was, alone with a heavy heart and guilt the size of infinity.

Grace's voice, while muffled, met his ears. "But I can tell it's more than that! ...You've been like this for weeks."

Had he made a mistake in rushing into things? Would it have even fucking mattered? Part of Tommy knew that had he waited, Kizzie would still feel this way. She remained his heart, and it murdered his very fucking soul to know that she didn't fully belive him anymore. Not with a wife and child.

Tommy cleared his throat and sat at the edge of the bath. He pulled out a cigarette and quickly lit it.

"I need you to tell me," Grace began, walking into the bathroom, "that's it's business making you like this and not regret over me. Say it outloud and I'll know it's true." Frustration burned in her eyes, but so did uncertainty.

Tommy didn't want to bring up Kizzie with Grace. It wasn't her concern, but Tommy was also worried about how Grace would react. She didn't see their relationship the way the rest of the family did, and Tommy couldn't decide if that was a good thing.

He clicked his tongue and pursed his lips before answering her, his voice a whisper. "It's business, Grace." And it wasn't entirely a lie... "Bad, bad business it is, all around." He inhaled, despite the tension in his shoulders. "And I'm scared, Grace. I'm scared for you. I'm scared for the baby." And for everything he stood to lose if she ever believed Kizzie's true value in his life. Nevermind this new endeavor with the Russians. "And this is how I am when I'm scared. It is unfamiliar to you, but not to me. I can...I can fucking be scared and carry on." But how the cracks showed when he couldn't have Kizzie to soothe his soul.

Tommy looked away from Grace, unable to bear the weight of her stare. "And it's not pleasant to look at and no joy to be around. I'm sorry."

One last glance before she turned away from him and walked out of the bathroom. "We've just made vows to share everything," she reminded him. "Tell me what it is you're afraid of."

He believed her to be done. For now, at least. But he would need to resolve this before going back downstairs. He needed the right words, but they faded away from his lips as though he were trying to catch smoke.

"I'm not Kizzie, Thomas, I can't read your mind."

Maybe it was an attempt to lighten the mood. She didn't understand the weight of her words, but God did Tommy. And she was right. 

Author's Note:

By the way, I started a Regulus Black story because why not... The first chapter is up now if anyone wants to check it out.