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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Everyone's favorite Polish Peaky Blinder is back to be a fly on the fucked up wall of the Shelby's.
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND TWO
Truth be told, Ozzy didn't need the address of the brothel in question.
But he didn't feel like confessing that to Tommy.
Not because he partook in the women there, but because he used to live right behind it with his parents. Would smell the cigar smoke and stale stench of liquor pour through his open bedroom window as he tried to sleep. In a tiny little room made tinier with his parents' knick-knacks and useless garbage that piled up to the ceiling.
Ozzy stepped out from the car and had to shake his hands at his side to clear his memory. Going back there was bad. He was never the same when he returned.
The Femme was a gentlemans' club on the outside. And even on the inside, it paraded as such. Low lights, lots of red and soft velvet. Cigar smoke clouded the room in a gray haze. But for 'special' patrons, The Femme had a darker purpose.
Tommy Shelby could not be seen here. Not as a member of Parliament or as head of the esteemed Peaky Blinders. Ozzy, however, had the luxury of not having anybody give a fuck about him or his reputation.
"Can I help you, boy?" the man at the front asked. He looked Ozzy from his shoes to his hair; Ozzy didn't look old enough to be here.
"Just got off work," Ozzy said, with a light smile. "Came here for a drink and to unwind." He reached into his inner breast pocket and pulled out a few bills. "Is that alright?"
The man eyed the stack of bills with an eagerness common to Ozzy now. "Of course. Please let me know if I can assist with anything."
Ozzy slipped his money back into his jacket. "I did actually have one question. I am waiting for a friend. Tall with a thick mustache. Lean but strong... He might have looked angry."
The man nodded. "Yes, he arrived not long ago. He's in a private room further down. You will have to wait for him to finish, I'm afraid. Club policy."
Ozzy had no intention of barging in. And he wondered, briefly, how often such a thing happens.
He sighed and took his leave.
Arthur frequented this place often as of late. With issues from Linda and the infested wound that was the death of Kizzie, the eldest Shelby was a pot of poison and fire.
Ozzy made his way between men and the performers to reach the back of the room. A small table was empty and he sat at the plush red chair. Surely, Arthur was nearly finished.
A waitress approached him from the crowd. Blonde curly hair pinned back with a face frame of pieces feathering her cheeks. Foundation did little to hide the freckles along her skin. Kizzie had freckles along her nose.
"Can I get you something, sir?"
Exhaustion laced her attempt at sounding pleasant. Ozzy knew, from living just behind this fucking place, that most of the girls who worked here did not work here voluntarily. Family debts, preying on the girls out on the street, the ignorant, they found their way in here. Usually with a contract they could never escape from.
"I'm just waiting for someone," Ozzy told her. He didn't want her to serve him. Be it drinks or a moment of fleeting pleasure. He didn't want to be here. But he couldn't tell her that. She would be suspicious and would tell her superiors. Ozzy would likely get kicked out from the club and he had a job to do: deliver Arthur Shelby back to the Garrison.
The girl nodded. She couldn't have been older than Ozzy.
"Thank you," Ozzy tried again.
The girl smiled and walked off with her platter. Ozzy sighed once she was far enough away. He needed to focus. This place didn't mean anything anymore to him. But ghosts are fickle, vindictive, and strong. Ozzy felt them pressing at his back, cold and demanding. They wanted what remained of his guilt, for killing his parents and burning down their flat.
A door suddenly opening made Ozzy jump.
A cold wash of fear enveloped him. His fingers prickled. Back burned from the tension. Fuck. He needed to leave.
The woman walking out was blonde with a short, curly bob. Her lingerie was lace pink and see-through. Short red heels clacked on the tile as she walked off. Inside the room sat Arthur. He slung his jacket back over his body, slow and defeated.
Ozzy stood and straightened his clothes. He walked to the entrance and not a step further. "Hey," he said, quietly.
Arthur didn't look up. He continued to fix his clothes. "He sends you?"
"He sent me."
Arthur huffed. His shoulders slackened before he stopped moving completely. He didn't look Ozzy in the eyes. If he was trying to hide his shame, Arthur failed. "Does Tommy know?"
"He does," Ozzy said, exhaling.
Hard for Tommy not to know. The Quaker didn't have much of a face left.
"He's at the Garrison," Ozzy explained. "Wants you there for some business."
Arthur sighed, but it came out as a small, soft growl. "But not to discuss what happened?"
"I don't think so."
Arthur stood. Ozzy often forgot how tall the man was. Ozzy only came up to his shoulders. Lately, he was hunched over, small and meek looking. Between losing Linda, her taking his son, and the prevailing tension between him and Tommy, Ozzy felt terrible for him. Arthur was nothing if not resistant, just like Kizzie was.
"Let's go."
Ozzy nodded and let him lead.
They passed servers and crowds of men. The smell of sex had Ozzy looking down, but it did little to take away the stench. His heartbeat pressed against his chest. He couldn't wait to breathe fresh air again.
"One sec," Arthur said, turning to mumble to Ozzy as they neared the front desk. He took out a small stack of bills and presented it to the same man who greeted Ozzy when he arrived.
"Ah," he said, taking the money. "I trust everything was to your liking, Mr. Shelby?"
"Fine."
The man's smile cracked for only a small moment, and Ozzy wondered if Arthur noticed. He leaned in and set the money on the counter. "You are a star patron, Mr. Shelby, so I will tell you before word gets out... Our hands have changed. The people in charge of The Femme have, well, they are gone. A new owner from New York is coming here within the next few weeks to take over. Girls are staying, I'm staying, but the new ones will be here too. Business will stay as usual. I hear some of the new ones are...a treat."
Author's Note:
We're nearing a reunion. Any guesses for how it will go down? 👀🙈
We'll be staying with Ozzy next chapter. I missed him. I debated making this longer, but I wanted to get something out there. Next chapter will feature three birds, Finn, and a depressed Tommy (as usual).
And for those of you missing our precious Jewish gangster, I haven't forgotten about him. I have something...familiar planned for him (though some people may not love what the scene will entail lol).
