Two Friends have recently arrived back in Birmingham, both trying to create a new life for themselves in style and riches. Jazz clubs and nightlife are typical scenes to them until one night they bump into the Shelby's.
Both the girls wish for a...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Ladies, I'm so glad you could make it!" Emilio stood by the entrance of the club smoking a cigarette.
Smiling I ran up to him, skipping the queue altogether, "Emilio!" giggling I looked back at Freya, holding my hand out as I beckoned her to me. She did not look pleased, a frown slowly beginning to form on her face. "Emilio...this is Freya-" It took her hand to pull her closer to me.
"I met her before." Emilio began to lead us into the club, stubbing his cigarette on the floor, "Who is that?" He asked, shooting a filthy look toward Finn and Tommy. God knows where John was at this point.
"This is Tommy and that's Finn,"
"He's a bloody Italian Bonnie..." Tommy muttered under his breath.
Rolling my eyes at Tommy's comment, I followed Emilio towards the blaring music, dragging Freya by her hand. It seemed to be a typical Jazz club, with low lighting, a small band, and dancing, lots of dancing. The walls were lined with red velvet curtains, smoke filled the air from cigarettes causing a low smog to linger. Women spun on the dancefloor, tassels, and sparkles everywhere. From the band came the low husky voice of a female singer, a saxophone, and a deep piano.
"I will get the drinks..." I smiled, letting go of Freya's hand and rushing away, "First round is on me,"
I had memorized everyone's drinks and was starting to walk off when I heard a voice shout my name. It was Tommy, running slightly to catch up with me. "Bonnie...I need to talk to you alone." His voice sounded paranoid and had a tinge of worry. He wrapped one of his arms tightly around my waist, pulling me into a small dark corner of the jazz club. The corner was confined, causing us almost to be pressed up against one another.
"What is it?" I hissed, attempting to get some space.
"Emilio..." Tommy whispered, his breath penetrating my skin, "I don't trust him."
A laugh escaped me, "You don't trust anyone."
"But Emilio...is Italian and right now the Peaky Blinders and the Italians don't see eye to eye, it's a long story. You wouldn't understand." He moved his hand behind me, confining us even more, "I just want to keep my family safe."
"But I trust Emilio...Tommy-?"
"I know..." he sighed, "I know, but please...just think Bonnie. Use that-" he pointed with his spare hand towards my head, "I know you have one."
"A pretty stupid one," I muttered.
"I don't think you stupid-"
"Tommy!" John chuckled, he walked over obviously intoxicated with a smarmy, blonde girl linked through his arm, "Getting off with the dumb one...eh Tommy?"
"And who is this-?" I snapped back pointing to the blonde girl, "It's not your wife that's for sure." I left the dark corner and was now in front of John and the blonde girl.
