Forbidden Afflictions // Alfie Solomons Peaky Blinders

(20) Gray

Freya didn't want Michael to see her immediately. For a second, her stomach felt ill and she was sucking on her cheeks to ease the upset. Her eyes shot arrows into him from across the room and yet her body was moving about the crowd without having ever lost connection with him.

When she set her unfinished drink down on the bartop, she realized another man was walking in behind him. At first, his face didn't quite register until she took a second glance and realized it was Father Jeramiah's boy: Isiah.

He wasn't a boy anymore. Of course, he was one when she left the company, but perhaps the frequency of seeing him made his maturation less noticeable. Being away now made all the difference. His features were more masculine now and he no longer carried a sense of childish sense of arrogance with him anymore. He walked with less pep in his step and his clothes fit him better than before.

Michael's suit was notable as well. The buttons along his waistcoat were a sterling gold, most obvious to be Tommy's touch on the boy's attire. His vest was finely made and tailored to perfection. The material was imported, sewn tight with a sturdy thread and accurate hand.

They both looked so different. So grown...

Michael, nor Isiah had noticed her. They smiled at the man who recognized them moments after Freya had. They got a few steps in before Polly's male cousin greeted them further inside. They shared smiles and nods as they were led to the bar.

Freya stopped in her tracks and paused, watching the three men reach toward the tender for a round of stout. Freya could only stare a moment as they were ignorant of her company. It was the only power she had over them. The heavens knew they had more street credit than she did at that point. She was an outcast now. The Jews adopted her when the Shelbys abandoned her. The name hardly meant anything at the end of her first name. Michael was a powerful man now and Isiah wasn't far from his rank. For once, she had to fight to keep her head above theirs. And even if it was her attention to the party, she had to use all she could to protect what little power she had left.

The bartender noticed her empty hands and lack of company and asked if there was anything he could get her. She didn't bother looking over and told him 'no'. The crowd was too big to keep to her side so he bowed his head and attended the others on the opposite side of his bar.

When the tender left her, that's when Michael's eyes fell across the room. He began in the far corner, leading his gaze across the horizon, checking all corners and lengths of sight he could manage. His eyes glided over Freya before recognizing the icy stare.

His eyes bolted back to hers. They widened and his brows knit together in disbelief. There was a stillness between for a moment. Michael seemed almost fearful as he met her. She, however, held a sense of fright.

She started moving between people and approached Michael and Isiah all without breaking eye contact. Michael swallowed uncomfortably and his gaze fell to the ground. He adjusted his jacket and fiddled with his fingers before facing Freya with enough closeness to speak.

"We weren't sure you were still alive," Michael replied with nonchalance, compensating for his discomfort with confidence that didn't match his features.

Isiah noticed who Michael had addressed and found his jaw to have been loosened. He was staring at Freya in utter shock. He couldn't believe his eyes.

"It would help if any of you bothered to pick up a phone or read your post," Freya offered, shrugging and dominating Michael's gaze until they flickered between her eyes and the floor every couple of seconds. There was a heavy weight beneath her sterling blues that neither of them could explain. It reminded them of Tommy more than ever. They lacked fire—soul. There was darkness within them and nobody cared to be caught in the shadows of their unrelenting stares.