Kimber's Dilemma - Tommy Shelby x Reader Fan Fic

Chapter 46

I heave a sigh, fussing at the collar of my shirt as I get out of the car. I have files of paperwork in my arms and red lipstick that feels like war paint as I head into battle.

Because not only will we be negotiating with my father today, but also with the Italians. Sabini's coming, along with his men. Alfie's told me only three things about him — they went to school together. They're fighting for territory.

And he's not above killing on sight.

I head into the office space, ready to wait for Alfie. To meet him here. I don't want to walk into this alone, even if I do have a hammer slipped into my coat pocket.

Nobody trusts me with a gun. Alfie thinks I'm trigger happy. I can't say I blame him.

But when I enter the office, I stop cold in my tracks. Ice sears through me and then it turns to fire, to rage, burning through my blood.

Thomas Shelby turns, eyebrows lifted as he smokes a cigarette. It's only him here. And looking at him again feels like every part of me I had to re-piece together has shattered once more.

"You need to leave," I hiss, throwing my files down onto the desk.

He heaves a sigh. "Good to see you too, Kimber."

"This is a closed meeting."

"And your husband invited me."

I blink, incapable of speech for a moment. He'd made no mention to me that the Peaky Blinders would be involved. "Alfie wouldn't do that."

"No? You can raise the matter with him when you see him." Tommy smokes. I seethe. Moments pass between us. "And where is he?"

"How am I supposed to know?" I ask. "We're fifteen minutes early."

"Both early to meetings. Unable to miss a trick." He almost sighs. "And you think we don't understand each other."

"Stolen any more guns lately?" I ask. "Is Michael ferreting around your gin out back, ready to blame it on someone else's accountant?"

Tommy's eyes flash. "Michael's been dealt with."

"Why, because his incompetence got you caught?"

Tommy's voice turns suddenly sharp. "Because he cost me many things I care about."

"You cost those things yourself," I hiss back.

Silence hangs in the air between us. This is ridiculous. I know where Alfie keeps the keys, and I wrench them from the hook behind the filing cabinet, anger pounding through me as I rustle through them all to find the one for the meeting room. I can't look at Tommy. I can't go through this with him again, ask questions and be met with only silence.

I shove the door open and blast inside, ready to down half the decanter of whiskey if I must to endure this.

And then once more, I stop short. Alfie's already in here. With one of the young secretaries sat prettily on the table, his lips at her neck and his hand on her thighs.

My rage dissipates and I'm left with no more than a stinging at my eyes, needles in my throat as I force myself to swallow.

"Oh, fuckin' hell," Alfie grumbles, pulling away and clearing his throat. "You're fucking early, aren't you?"

I can feel Tommy's gaze on me as I compose myself. Pull myself together. Arrange my face into a mask of indifference. But I can feel that I'm not successful — my eyes are ice cold.

I'd expected this to happen. Alfie's only a man, after all, and we have an agreement that the boundaries of our marriage don't extend to such acts. But it still fucking hurts. Burns and smarts.

And Tommy Shelby's here to bear witness to my humiliation.

"We are early," he says to Alfie, his voice low and lethal. "And unfortunately for you, that means fewer witnesses."

"You're not gonna bloody kill me Tom... fucking hell, go on," he tells the secretary, "the fuck you still here for? You're not gonna kill me, Tom." He points a warning finger, "Because I'm planning on making you a very happy man indeed, alright? Now come, sit down, pour a drink and we'll wait for the big boys." Alfie reaches for me. "How are you, love, you alright?"

I'm wordless, thoughtless, as he presses a kiss to my cheek. It's like I've shut down. I don't want to do any of this here in front of Tommy. Alfie, of all people, should know that. And judging by the flicker of guilt in his eyes, the way his hand brushes at my lower back, he does. There's an unspoken apology in the way he looks at me.

"This your plan?" Tommy sighs, lifting a sheet of documents from the table.

"For fuck's sake, don't go combing through it yet—"

"We had an agreement, Alfie. You'd look after what belongs to me, and in return, you'd keep all the things that belong to you. Like your arms."

A small inkling of realisation begins to form in my gut.

"Now, wait just a minute—"

"I'm not signing this." Tommy throws the documents back onto the table, and when he fixes Alfie with a glare, it's small wonder he doesn't burst into flames. "You've got a fine business here, and instead of protecting it, you're trying to get in bed with Sabini. And let me tell you, Alf, if this was mine, there wouldn't be anyone in the world able to turn my head." He lights a cigarette. "Not even a secretary."

"Tommy," I say warningly.

He looks at me, eyebrows raised. Fury emblazoned across his perfect features.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I ask quietly.

"Nothing to worry about, sweetheart. Alfie here's broken an agreement."

"I'm not your fucking lapdog, Tom, and this ain't the fuckin' time, alright?"

"No... this shit ended." I swallow, trying to pull myself together. "This shit ended almost a year ago." I glance between them. Neither will look me in the eye. "What the fuck is going on?"

My father's voice meets my ears. "Could be asking that myself." He and Roberts enter the room. "What's he doing here?" He asks Alfie, stabbing a finger in Tommy's direction.

"Now, Billy, I'm hopin' we can all act like grown men, yeah, grown men who fought in bloody France, we're as much on the same side now as we was back then..."

In my mind, there's only two reasons for Tommy to be acting like this.

He's trying to get a reaction out of me.

Or the pretence never ended for him. He still sees me as his. And Alfie's been acting on his orders this whole time.

I stare at the table, at every groove in the wood and run of the grain. And then I lift my gaze, and Tommy's watching me. An expression across his face I've never seen before, and one I don't care wasting time trying to decipher.

I have a hammer in my pocket. Maybe I'll take it to the head of every man in this room.

Starting with my farce of a husband.

I lurch to my feet. "You have all the paperwork," I tell Alfie, fussing with my coat as quickly as I can. "There's really no need for me to be here."

Tommy stands to his feet, calm and collected. "I'll walk you home, Mrs Solomons."

"That would be unwise. My home has even fewer witnesses than this office." And I don't trust myself not to kill you. "Goodbye, Alfie. Father." I draw myself taller. "Thomas."

I leave the office before I truly suffocate.