Ellis had picked her up from the theatre the morning of the races, per her instructions. She'd rather be dead than caught in the threshold of her own home. That, and Noah seemed to be on edge every time she mentioned Ellis.
Birdie wore the nicest dress she owned, one that cost three weeks' wages and weighed a tonne. Beads of the deepest emerald ran down her hips, contrasting well against the sharper green silk that clung to her body. She had never been ashamed of her figure, the dancer's body that had served her well through years of physical turmoil.
"You look beautiful!" Ellis exclaimed as he hurriedly parked his car. The clunky vehicle shone like a obsidian gem that morning, an exuberant reminder of the Jackson family's ridiculous wealth.
He was careful kissing her cheek, noticing the streaks of rouge she had carefully applied. Birdie smiled at him, stepping into the car and resting a hand upon his knee. Ellis started the car, and Birdie tried not to think of whom she might run into on their first official outing.
The trek was long, an hour at most. Ellis made conversation for half the journey, Birdie was trying to convince him to teach her how to drive. A lot more exciting than walking, was her answer. Her tired dancer's feet needed to limit the exercise. Ellis had smirked in amusement, but had slowly worked his way through the mechanisms of the vehicle. Birdie was mostly interested, but the changing scenery was just as pleasant.
They arrived to Cheltenham and Birdie was reminded of the old money that still seeped through the cracks of this rapidly modernising world. Aristocracy had been licked by the flames of change, but there was no greater power that could shift the British culture of old money.
She noticed Grace across the bar. A pit rested in her stomach like a stewing rock; she was absolutely beautiful. Golden threads for hair, soft features. Eyes that glimmered with a determined innocence and a purity Birdie lost long ago. Birdie swallowed hard, catching sight of herself in the mirror stretching across the back wall of the bar. A hardened soul, too steely and dark. Towering behind her was Ellis, another golden angel, and suddenly Birdie really needed a drink.
"What are you drinking, Miss Brooks?" Ellis chimed, once he had successfully gained the attention of the bartender. Birdie swivelled at just the right time, catching the childlike pride that flickered in his smile. She let out a sigh, forcing a smile that felt slightly heavier.
"I should probably stick to the whiskey or you'll have me giggling in your arms." Birdie teased with a smirk, her voice raised to counter the roar of musicians and lurid chatter.
"You, giggling? The day I see you giggle will be the happiest day of my life."
"Pigs will fly on that day, Jackson," Birdie shot out a laugh. "You won't be able to crack my poison, anyway. My lips are sealed."
"Might just have to work to open them up then." Ellis retorted, handing her the glass of amber liquid. Birdie felt a flutter, and was grateful she had yet to raise the crystal to her mouth.
She noticed the dark-haired man as she drank her first sip of liquor, and suppressed a roll of the eyes.
Minutes later, she felt his presence lingering behind her. Ellis, who had engaged her in a conversation explaining the horse his father always bid on, stopped mid sentence and furrowed his brow.
"Birdie, come with me." Tommy grasped at her elbow, ignoring Ellis as he appeared behind her. Birdie went to tug her arm away, but Tommy seemed insistent. And when Tommy Shelby was insistent, he was getting what he wanted.
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VIOLENT DELIGHTS | TOMMY SHELBY
Fanfiction" these violent delights have violent ends and in their triumph die, like fire and powder, which, as they kiss, consume. " Birdie Brooks was a warrior who thought her fight was over. A lifelong connection to Shelby fami...
