𝐋𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧 𝐚 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 🍞PEAKY BLINDERS 🥖

Chapter Eighty-Six

Happy day off to people! I saw a really funny meme yesterday. It was George Washington's portrait and the text said something like: "Have fun going to work tomorrow, Britain." 

Made me lol.

CHAPTER EIGHTY-SIX

"Arthur?"

Kizzie stopped in the hall after hearing her brother's scream. The gun that then fired made her jump.

"Miss Shelby," one of the men turned and raced back for her. "We should get moving."

"But, my brother—"

The second man quickly pulled out his own gun and aimed it at Kizzie. "We said get moving."

Fear penetrated her insides. These were not Alfie's men.

Another shot echoed in the hall. Kizzie took the chance to run off in the opposite direction.

"Hey!"

Kizzie felt her ankles buckle under the heels. She slipped on the smooth flooring and went headfirst into the crowd.

"Get back here!"

Kizzie squirmed her way between people, uncaring of where she was. She needed to find someone—anyone. People were knocked over. Beer sprayed into her hair and dress. Kizzie gasped when a hand gripped her wrist.

It pulled so hard, she heard a pop in her shoulder.

She fell back and another set of arms caged her. Her legs twisted and tried to kick, but it was impossible. She called for help, but it went unheard over the hollers of the men and women watching the fight.

She was dragged back into the hall and shoved up against a wall.

Kizzie reached for her glove and pulled out the butterfly blade that Ada gifted her for Christmas. While the two men regained their breath, she sliced the man holding her. He cried out and gripped his cheek, now split in two.

The back of her head was slammed against the wall. Kizzie felt the room collapse. Her knees became weak and somewhere, she heard one of them say, "Get the ring. He'll need it."

Kizzie shook her head and reached for the man holding her engagement ring. He slipped it into his pocket.

"Please," she pleaded. "Let me go."

"Kizzie!"

Both men stood still at Tommy's voice. Even Kizzie felt air leave her lungs at his rage, his desperation. But he sounded far away, somewhere past walls and down stairs.

She was suddenly launched into the air and slipped onto one of their shoulders, like horse cargo. They ran down the nearest stairwell.

"Kizzie!"

"Tommy!"

Her hands gripped the handrail. So hard her gloves slipped off. "No!"

She tried again at the next flight, all while kicking her feet into the man's chest. Her brittle nails bent at the grip she held the metal. Sharpness shot down her fingers as the nails bent back further until they popped off like a cork. Blood collected at her fingertips. The man gave another hard pull, successfully ripping Kizzie away from the rail.

Her body rocked against the man's shoulder. The room still spun, each stair was a mountain. Somewhere, Kizzie heard Tommy scream her name. His voice reverberated in her ears—would this be the last time she ever heard him again?

Kizzie wasn't ready to forgive him—she wasn't sure she ever could, but surely she could speak to him again, love him again, without forgiving him. Kizzie was never so mad at someone like this before, she didn't know the rules in forgiveness.

God made it look so easy.

The crisp air pebbled her skin.

"Help!" Kizzie screamed into the night.

The waiting car sat in an alley, haphazardly parked and ready for a quick get-away. A driver waited for them.

"Took you long enough." He motioned to the backseat. "Get her in before someone hears her."

"Too late," one of them said, watching his comrade stick Kizzie into the backseat. "The brother is on our tail. We gotta go."

"Help!" Kizzie banged her bloody hands against the window. "Help!"

The men got into the car and held her arms to prevent her from breaking the glass. The driver backed up and quickly hit the gas.

Kizzie twisted her body and looked behind her.

The door burst open. Tommy, wide-eyed and disheveled and gasping for air, found the car taking off. Behind him came Ozzy. Tommy took off down the street, but was unable to keep up. His lungs pumped cold air. Each bloody slam that Kizzie hit the back window with etched itself in his heart.

The car lurched forward and any gain Tommy gained was lost. It turned down a street and nearly toppled sideways. Kizzie was gone.

"Tommy!"

He stopped and found Ozzy in a car, coming toward him. "Get in!"

Without stopping, the passenger door opened. Tommy slipped inside and removed the gun from his holster. The car turned down the same road. Adrenaline burned Tommy from the inside-out.

In the backseat, Ozzy sat, knees together. The familiar feeling of death spun like a web in his heart. He dared not speak his feelings out loud. Tommy was over the edge.

Someone would die tonight.

Author's Note:

I have no expectations on how long the next chapter will be. It will be out when it's out...but as always, I will keep everyone updated if it takes me longer than usual. 

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