The Red King and the Witch

The Long Awaited Conversation pt 2

Jesus Christ I needed water, like a whole fucking barrel of it, that's the only way I was gonna be sober enough to help Thomas Shelby kick the ass of whoever was at the front door.

All I wanted to do tonight was read a book and drink until I couldn't understand the words on the pages anymore.

That's it, that's all.

The Shelby brothers had effectively made me the Maiden in the Tower, keeping me under watchful guard at all times after waking up from my attack, successfully driving me out of my mind these last two weeks but tonight I had finally gotten some alone time in the house Polly Gray kept insisting was mine.

No loud bets being placed beneath floorboards or bartering with Peaky men to stop babysitting me, no Esme or her cute rambunctious little rascals trying to teach me Romani or help play doctor with their Aunt Polly.

No John or Finn checking up on me every half hour, or Arthur pretending not to linger about the house like he wasn't spying for Tommy or trying to evade my questions of his younger brother's whereabouts by talking about horse racing all day.

Tonight, after finally half convincing, half ordering, the massive Popeye bodyguard Scudboat and his gobsmacked dimwitted partner Harry to duck out early, I burrowed myself in the family den with a children's book, chugged half a bottle of whiskey, and embraced the peaceful silence I longed for.

Or that's what the evening was supposed to consist of until Thomas Shelby unexpectedly reappeared and derailed my big fucking plans.

The man had all but disappeared for more than two weeks after I apparently "threw him out" and his biggest concern after finally reappearing wasn't that he'd completely ignored and avoided me for fourteen days, but that I'd been left alone unsupervised in his house.

A laughable concern, considering who he left on watch duty, but my safety really did seem to be his biggest agitation because at this moment Thomas Shelby was spectacularly pissed and looked ready to kill whoever was at the front door.

"Fuckin' hell" Tommy growled out, pressing the heel of his hands to his eyes before dragging one hand across his face and jaw.

"You always this grouchy when you drink, Tom?" I question the man as he fixes me with a mean look that I grin off, bending forward for the pocketknife I had hidden in my boots under the table.

"Who the fuck gave you a knife?" Tommy spits out then, eyes going wide with unease as he eyed the weapon I placed on the table as I laced my boots on, unable to stop myself from giving him a bigger smile.

"John" I answered simply and the man's reserved blue eyes dim a little while his shoulders stiffen at the sound of his brother's name.

"Babe, you really have to let go of this little spat you two got going on." I huff, standing up from my chair until I stood directly in front of him, crossing my arms, leaning back against the edge of the table.

"What for?" he grumbled from his seat while eyeing me sensually from head to toe.

"Cause your he's your brother and your both being stupid" I shrugged, cocking my head to the right as he worked his jaw at my words but whatever he planned to say died on his tounge when the knocking resumed at the door.

"Cops?" I whispered as a suggestion as Tommy stood up from his chair.

"Perhaps." he murmured, making to move towards the hallway, which naturally I attempted to follow but the moment I reached the doorway ahead of him Tommy's large hand gripped my upper left arm and jerked me to a stop.