Gray and Green // Michael Gray

Epilogue

Michael Gray wasn't cut out for this type of life. He didn't need this type of life. Certainly not with a French woman who controlled have of the European military.

Changretta was killed by Arthur Shelby that same day. Rage filled all of the Shelby men, even Polly. Nobody had ever seen them so furious.

"I should've walked out with her." Michael blamed himself as he looked down at my body on the hospital bed.

My hair was still tidy as it was the morning before, pulled back into a low bun with small strands sticking out to frame my face. In his eyes, I still looked perfect. Even the green of my eyes were still pigmented.

Michael put his fingers over my eyelids and closed them for peace. He knew I wasn't at peace when I left, but this was as close as it was going to get.

"Don't blame yourself, Michael, nobody knew they were there." Arthur looked down at me, hands in pockets, disappointed.

"I was going to ask to marry her." Michael mumbled, grabbing my hand and taking my rings off. "Today."

Thomas was staring at my body with no emotion behind his eyes. He didn't know what to feel.

Thomas and I were alike in a lot of ways. He drank excessively, so did I. I had a short temper, he did too. We were both bosses of bad businesses, we both shared the trauma of the war, yet, we didn't see eye to eye on anything.

"I want out." Michael blurted out.

Thomas and Arthur both looked at the younger boy, eyebrows furrowed and a confused look on both their faces.

"I want fucking out, Tommy." He let out a deep breath. "I want out of your shit."

"Now Michael, think about what you're saying-" Tommy started out.

"I want fucking out, Tom." Tears were trickling down his face as he pleaded with his cousin. "No more death, no more fucking anything. I want out." He cried.

Tommy let out a deep sigh at his cousins words. She was losing a good helping hand and he didn't like it. It would take a toll on his business and he didn't want anything to go wrong.

"Michael, this was one accident. Nobody could have known-" he was cut off.

"I don't fucking care." Michael breathed in again, looking at me, then at Thomas. "I don't want anything to do with your shit anymore. I'm done. I'm wiping my fucking hands of you."

Michael stomped out of the room, the door slamming behind him and against the wall. He was true to what he said. He was done with Thomas Shelby forever.

Michael packed a bag once he got back home. He packed his shaving kit, clothes for a week, more money than he could count and two pairs of shoes. No guns, no knives, nothing with Shelby Company Limited connected to it.

He then walked to the boating dock. He was by far the best dressed man there, pressed suit, polished shoes, clean shirt, he stood out. Nobody paid attention to him though. They acted as if he were an ordinary man.

He was an ordinary man with a past.

"America." He told the person behind the doc. "I don't fucking care where, just get me to America."

The doc man looked at him confused, like he was making a rational decision in an irrational effort. "North or south."

"Give me whatever ticket you can find." He told the man.

The man turned around and ripped a piece of paper from a book and slid it under the bars of the teller. "To Florida you go." He stamped Michael's passport. "Beaches are beautiful down there."

Michael took the ticket and his bag, walking to the boat dock. None of his family were there to see him go, but he didn't care. He lost the last part of him he could bare.

His heart was split up into four sections. His sister and mother held the first section. John held the second section. Shelby Company Limited and money held the third section, and Anna Green held the four and biggest section. Nothing in the world could replace what she gave him. 

I was a raging, uncontrollable alcoholic that made irrational decisions all the time. I passed on the habit to Michael, which he took to a further level than what I would've done. He had no heart left. What's done is done, and what's to come is coming.

Michael, and the other 500 people on the boat weren't expecting the fire to come. Nobody was expecting the French President's daughter to plant 200 strings of dynamite to the bottom of the boat. Nobody expect anything to happen.

In Michael Gray's head, when he felt the life leaving his eyes, was in that moment everything was perfect. He had nothing to worry about anymore. He didn't have to worry about Tommy Shelby, he didn't have to worry about Polly Gray, he didn't have to worry about Anna Green.

All he had to do was lay there in the water and have the life taken from him.