Forbidden Afflictions // Alfie Solomons Peaky Blinders

(27) Blasphemy

"You didn't need to see those," Alfie grumbled, wincing at the wavering tone in Freya's voice. He didn't know how she was feeling. He couldn't tell if she was hurt, suspicious, or angry—though, he assumed he could tell if she were angry. The unknown look on her face and in her voice made him wary.

"Are you a woman?" she asked incredulously, furrowing her brows and widening her eyes in disbelief. She held an unnerving tone in her voice but she was feeling far too sleepy and forgiving to let it take ahold of her.

Stunned and unable to form a coherent thought without tripping up on another, Alfie stuttered, "I—I'm, tsk. No." He laughed, finding her obvious question amusing amid his frenzy.

"And have you been arrested?" she asked with the same tone as before, quirking an eyebrow and tilting her head slightly.

"No..." he replied with an uneasy tone. "No," he stated firmly.

"Then how exactly would I have no business seeing government documents about a women's prison I attended when you are neither a woman nor been a mere visitor of that place?" she worried impatiently.

"I—" he began, his mouth hung open as his words left him speechless. He couldn't explain himself now. He sometimes wished she would yell over him or jump to conclusions because when she was let him speak and she would listen, he couldn't come up with anything. The only thing he could think of he couldn't ask now. If it was now, he was fucked. "Love—"

"Don't," she warned him softly, shaking her head with a blank expression on her face. She knew his sweet words wouldn't aid him in any way. She knew he used them to soften the blow. She just didn't know why he felt he needed to. What harm came with the truth, she wondered.

"C'mon. It's not like that, right. Listen," he said with a grunt, dropping his shoulders and stretching as he removed his clothes from the day before, leaving him in only his pants and an intimate shirt. "I was doing some research. Made some calls... Founds some documents, yeah? Wot you went through there, it was fucked up. It wasn't right and I fucking knew it wasn't right. After that, I did some digging, asked your boy to go to the office and he did some tongue wagging and brought back some files that weren't released to the public."

Freya's face contorted. Her eyes were studious on his, noticing how they shot from her right eye to her left and then back again. He only ever wavered when recalling a memory. He didn't blink excessively or show any sort of deception.

She believed him and she hated it.

"I thought you had Pip doing honest work for you? Considerate hours, safety, and honest work away from the streets. That's what you said, wasn't it?"

"Yes," he sighed. "And I do," Alfie quickly assessed. "Boy switches between twelve and seven hour shifts at the distillery dependin' on the week. He sleeps with the men when his brovah and sister are at the apartments you Brummie's worked out when the binding was signed. I asked 'im a favor," Alfie said with an insistent sigh, turning on the water for the tub.

"But why would you need any of this, Alfie? What happened is in the past..."

"Nah," Alfie said, lowering his voice, getting close to Freya and shaking his head in utter disagreement. "You didn't tolk to me for months..." he said with a scary glint to his eye, hardening his features with strain to conceal his anger. "You didn't leave the house. Your family was fuckin' locked up with you and you didn't even bother askin' if anythin' 'appened to 'em. You flinch when I try to touch you and we don't fuck anymore, Freya."

"Do you not think I know that?" she asked drowsily. "You don't have to remind me, Alfie. Nothing about those stupid papers will change any of that," she argued slowly, shaking her head a little too much as she countered him.