Kimber's Dilemma - Tommy Shelby x Reader Fan Fic

Chapter 31

It turns out I was very wrong.

Tommy's stare is ice cold, the morning sun reflected from his eyes and intensifying as he pins me in place with his gaze. I try not to squirm.

"Go back?" He repeats icily.

"Seeing Roberts' name on that list changes things," I say quietly. "Wouldn't you agree?"

He doesn't break eye contact. Doesn't give me so much as a moment to draw in breath.

"You're talking like a guilty person, Kimber."

"And you're talking like a prick," I glower.

"For a clever girl, you're being very fucking dense." He presses in close to me. "Don't you understand? I don't care if you knew about the guns anymore."

I set my jaw. "Then tell me you believe me. Tell me you don't think I'm lying when I say, I knew nothing about it."

We continue to face each other down in silence. His eyes flicker slightly between my own, thoughts running through his mind. Thoughts I'll never be privy to, because he refuses to fucking let anyone in.

And he doesn't say it.

"You still think so little of me."

"And you're still lying to me." He brings his hand to my collar — a warning. "Where were you that night? Still adamant you were tucked up in bed, reading Dickens?"

"It's none of your business," I snap.

"And yet you're angry with me — for what? For seeing through you? For knowing you're a liar, when you outright refuse to tell me the truth?"

"I didn't take your fucking guns!"

"Then what are you hiding?" He pushes me back against the wall, caging me in. "What could be so bad?"

Fuck this. If he wants to know so badly, fine. I've done nothing wrong. What's the worst he can do about it? It's already happened.

"I was fucking someone in a pub bathroom." I refuse to lower my gaze, to appear ashamed in any way. "If my father found out, I'd have received more than a burn on my arm. But since you're so desperate to know, there it is." I punctuate each word with a jab to his chest. "I. Was. Fucking. Someone. I could probably track him down if you're desperate for proof."

"Oh, don't worry," he says, his voice terrifyingly, terrifyingly calm. "I'll be tracking him down alright."

His voice sends chills down my spine. "That was before you even met me," I protest. "You're being completely irrational."

"I'm long past being rational, Kimber." He presses in closer until I'm forced to relent beneath him, pressed up against the wall. "And you're not going anywhere."

Okay. I'm ready to fold. With the heat of him pressed against me, his lips moving so close to mine, I'm ready to forget all logic and reason. It's ingrained into me, after all — a lifetime of pushing my father just so far, then realising I need to retreat. To be silent. Otherwise, only pain will follow. To do anything differently terrifies me.

But then Polly's words echo in my ears. Don't feel you must do what he says all the time. If anyone needs a bit of push-back, it's Tommy. I suck in a shaky breath, gathering all my courage.

Reminding myself, I need to do this.

Admitting to myself for the first time — this is about more than clearing my name. This is about showing Tommy who I am. That I've been truthful with him right from the start.

He took me in when I needed him. He's kept me safe. Gotten me to a place where I feel secure enough that I can even comprehend going back to my father. I look into Tommy's eyes, and my heart breaks... because there's a stabbing in my chest, a hollowness in my gut, a rush through my blood.

"Why, Tommy?" I ask, almost daring him to say it. "Why do you tell me I belong to you? Why can't I leave?"

He doesn't answer my questions. "You wanted to negotiate. Those are my terms."

"A negotiation should be equal. Where's my say?"

He closes his eyes, taking moments to blink. Finally, I can relax, just for a moment. Feel less like a specimen beneath a microscope.

"Fine," he says, impatiently rustling for a cigarette. "What do you want?"

"You to answer my question. Why am I yours?"

"Because that's my world." The lighter catches tobacco, and smoke fills my lungs as well as his own at such proximity. It rushes straight to my head, turning my stomach and tilting the world on its axis. "Things are either mine, or they're not. And if they're not, they're up for the take. I've claimed you." He exhales. "That means no one else can."

"So what, you're a dog pissing on a lamppost? And I'm the lamppost?" His eyes flash with a warning, but I'm past caring. "Tell me then, Tommy... are you mine?"

"I'm not fucking anyone else," he says evenly. "Not even in pub bathrooms."

I ignore his jab. "And that's all this is, then?" I swallow a lump in my throat. "Fucking?"

Tommy takes a step back. Jaw stiff, gaze roaming as he thinks. And then, unexpectedly, his brow creases. He takes a long drag of his cigarette, considering his words. "Fucking... Yes. Feelings... that's not something I'm accustomed to. You know my life hasn't left much room for that. It's been about survival from the start."

He paces away, agitated. I realise I've never seen him worked up like this before. It's an internal battle more than an external one — he's not about to punch walls or raise his voice. But I don't know what's going on inside his head.

"In my world, possession is protection. If something is mine, no one will touch it without consequences." He turns to face me, icy exterior cracking like a glacier below the sun. "I won't risk losing you. You're under my protection, always. That's the only way I know how to keep you safe... and keep you with me."

His last words escape quietly, more admission than command. I walk slowly towards him. Pull the cigarette from his lips, and place it in the ashtray.

"Thank you," I say quietly, wrapping my arms around him. For talking this out like a grown up. For not letting this conversation end in a tantrum, doors slamming shut, whatever this is between us broken beyond repair. He can't do feelings just yet. And still, he's given me insight into his mind. I know this doesn't come lightly.

He runs a hand through my hair, his thumb trailing stardust across my skin. "I told you I won't let him hurt you ever again," he murmurs. "How am I meant to keep my promise, eh?"

I tell him, "I'll make you a promise in return. I won't let him."

Tommy's eyebrows raise. "How are you going to manage that, eh?"

"Because you'll give me a gun." I run my hand across his jaw. "You'll understand why I'm doing this. Even if you finally believe me, your brothers will need more proof before they trust me. As they should."

I can't imagine John or Arthur asking me as plainly as Polly whether I'll betray them, or believing me as plainly in response. Finn's not keen on more than a word in my presence, and Michael seems to outright dislike me.

"And if he tells you to marry Alfie Solomons?" Tommy's eyes glitter dangerously at the thought.

"I've been told you'll cut off his arms," I reply evenly, trying to hide my amusement. Tommy's taking this very seriously. "I daresay he values his limbs more than he values me."

Tommy murmurs, "We should all be so lucky."

And then his lips descend upon mine, claiming me with his tongue as a soft groan escapes him.