𝐋𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧 𝐚 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 🍞PEAKY BLINDERS 🥖

Chapter Seventy-Eight

When I update, I update lately.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT

Kizzie dressed herself like a grandma.

She didn't have one, but she'd seen plenty to know how to dress. She took a pair of Polly's sunglasses and one of her black scarves. Finished off her outfit with flat boots, black stockings, and a dark purple dress and a fur coat.

She felt hideous.

"At least you look the part," Ozzy told her from his bed. "Are you sure about this?"

"Alfie said he needed to see me. It was...important."

Ozzy didn't distrust the man, but what could have been so important he needed to see Kizzie for when half the city was looking to kill her? "And he's comin' here? Or, close to here, anyway?"

She nodded. "Yes."

Ozzy dared his next question. "Where are you two going?"

Kizzie adjusted the coat in his mirror. "He needed to see a doctor. He also is scared of them."

Ozzy had a hard time believing that. "So--"

His phone began to ring.

Ozzy leaned over and grabbed the receiver from the bedside table. "Yeah?"

"What's the hold up?" Alfie grumbled.

"She's almost done. Your grandmum will be ready shortly."

He growled. "Hurry up." Then the line went dead.

Ozzy tossed the receiver onto the bed and layed back down.

"Is he okay?"

"Fine. Just...Alfie."

Even though he couldn't see her face, Ozzy felt her smile. "Okay."

Kizzie and Ozzy lucked out. Her brothers were doing business in one of the factories, which meant most of the Blinders were elsewhere. Ada and Polly and Linda worked in the betting shop and the Blinders assigned to them would be preoccupied making sure no harm came. Ozzy overheard that Finn would be taking charge of the shop today... He hoped Kizzie's twin was ready to deal with those women.

"Ozzy?"

He looked away from the street and stray Blinders pacing the entrance of the betting house. "Yeah?"

"You are thinking about things that make you worried."

"A bit." Ozzy was still the primary Blinder responsible for Kizzie. Which he...didn't want, if he was being honest with himself. He couldn't save her from the priest. Lost his eye in the process. What good was he? He knew that Tommy took something of a shine to him, but enough to trust him still with his precious Kizzie?

He just wanted to be her friend. Let someone else worry about not getting her killed all the fucking time.

"About what?"

"I just..." Did he tell her the truth? Risk her feeling guilty? Kizzie wore her emotions on her sleeve. The family would know something was up immediately. "I wish things were different, I guess."

She stopped walking. Lingering sadness spread over her face. Her eyes found his, focused on the obvious differences. "Me too."

Maybe that's why Tommy kept him around; Ozzy was a soft spot for Kizzie. Her only friend and greatest confidant outside of Alfie. Especially these days. He felt like a toy--a doll she played with and kept close to her chest. He was as useless as one. Could barely fire a gun anymore. His migraines returned and left him writhing on the floor in his dark flat.

In these moments, he blamed Kizzie for his eye. Even if it was true, which he never believed so once the pain and self-loathing went away, he'd never admit so out loud.

He wanted the pain to go away. He wanted his vision back... He wanted to be normal again.

A car slowly pulled up beside the alley, away from potential eyes.

Alfie sat in the back, lowered his window. "Little bird... Ozzy."

Kizzie reached over and rested her hands on the door. "Is it okay if Ozzy comes?"

Alfie's surprise matched Ozzy's. Ozzy already prepared his legs to walk around to the side of the car, hoping he didn't knock hip first into the car's grill. That happened a lot with random edges. He had a literal blind spot. His skin was perpetually bruised and sore.

"Of course."

Ozzy kept a wide gait around the car. Opened the front passenger door and shuffled himself inside. With growing bitterness, he looked at the driver. A man with two eyes who probably had no issues walking or shooting guns. Didn't have horrific migraines or endless self-loathing. It wasn't fucking fair.

Alfie cleared his throat. He carried a worriedness to his shoulders. This doctor visit wasn't routine, Ozzy was beginning to understand.

"Let's go."

Author's Note:

If you know the this season, you probably know which doctor we're going to with Alfie.

And no spoilers, but just a friendly reminder that I structure all my fan-fics to the main plot. So if you know...you know. 🙈