As the youngest Shelby child and twin to Finn Shelby, Kezia has spent the last 4 of her 10 years locked away for her mental defectiveness.
She returns to Small Heath under the legal guardianship of her brother, Thomas Shelby. Despite knowing she's s...
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Grief is a feeling best served with crazy.
CHAPTER NINETY-THREE
"What's the kid doing here?"
Lizzie pointed at Ozzy in the now empty Shelby pub.
He stood away from the family, but close enough to where he could feel included.
"He is family, Lizzie," Arthur explained. He wanted to say more, but couldn't with Tommy here. Ozzy saw Arthur's jaw hitch. Did so every time he wanted to bring up Kizzie.
The truth was, ever since Kizzie died, Ozzy became Tommy's little pet. He wanted to be more—didn't know what—but he wanted more. For himself and for what he stood for.
Lizzie shook her head. The woman was easily annoyed. Hard to blame her, though. Tommy rarely told her things. And she was the one who was responsible for picking up the pieces after Kizzie. A fucking rank job. Ozzy was glad he only got the tailend of it.
"Can I begin this family meeting with a proposal?" she asked. "From now on, we find somewhere else to meet?"
Ada smiled. "Your husband believes that being seen mixing with the common people is good politics."
"Hmm. Well, if this is our campaign for socialism, perhaps next time, Polly, you won't wear earrings worth more than the pub."
"Right!" Ada said, setting down a bullet onto the table. "First order of business. Pulled this out of our Finn's arm yesterday by Aberama Gold using your gin and a razor blade."
Lizzie sat up. "Finn?"
"He says they were sent to Limehouse. Chinatown."
"Sent by fucking who?"
"Sent by me," Tommy told her, jaw clenching. "I told Finn to stay out of it, he obviously didn't listen."
Ozzy wasn't surprised. Finn had been itching for a chance to pull a trigger. Ever since Kizzie, her twin couldn't stand to be in the same room as Tommy. The man's recent inclusion of Finn was meant to be an olive branch, so long as he didn't do anything stupid.
Grief and rage meant you did dumb shit.
Lizzie scoffed. "Tommy, sweetheart, I listen to you. I listen to you when you tell me no more sport for anyone named Shelby. I listen to you when you make me promises." She shook her head. Ozzy felt her patience thinning by the second. "What's in Chinatown, Tommy? What the fuck is going on?"
Sometimes, when Ozzy wasn't technically included in these types of conversations, he imagined what Kizzie would say. Or do. His own way of dealing with his grief, maybe.
Maybe Finn wouldn't have been shot. Kizzie could have convinced him to not play the hero; there wouldn't be such a target on his back with her still here. But if he was shot, this meeting would play out very differently.
