Peaky Blinders (short stories)

Part 1

I glanced in the mirror merely once. I despised what I saw and I had no intention of seeing that image any longer. I was simply a messenger. I was to deliver the head of Thomas Shelby- the leader of the peaky blinders- to the Italian mafia.

I used to be a woman, one who walked with grace and her rosary in hand. Now I was simply a woman who had no mercy- who wasn't supposed to have any.

As I walked into the Garrison Pub I felt God's eyes watch over me in shame. My smoky eyes and red lipstick attracted everyone but the man who's attention I needed. I cursed mentally. I walked over to the bar and ordered myself some whiskey.

I hated the bitter taste and the burn that came with drinking heavily. As much as I hated it- it was the only thing that would boost my courage. I was sent to do one simple task, and that was to return with proof that Thomas Shelby was no longer breathing- completing this would guarantee me my freedom.

The Italians promised me that I would be able to go home and be the woman I was- but I knew that was impossible. There was no redemption for the lost and I was beyond being found.

I watched his taller frame from across the room. I needed to move quickly. I couldn't let this opportunity slip my hands. I walked over to him and with a sudden shove, I bumped into his chest. "Oh, please forgive me" I stammered.

"It's fine- it's fine" the oldest brother wiped the rum off his suit. "You're not from around eh?" He smirked and elbowed the youngest to turn and join the conversation.

Arthur and John. The oldest and the reckless. I'd read there files a few times- but they weren't Thomas.

"You selling something?" John asked taking a swig at his cigar and tugging at my belt.

As much as I wanted to pull away and slap him for daring to place his filthy hands on me- I remembered my freedom. I had to find a way to Thomas Shelby and his family was the closest target.

"Depends- on how much you're willing to pay" I cock an eyebrow and cross my arms in front of my chest to give my breast a boost.

"As much as I'd like to pitch in- I've got Em waiting for me at home and I don't need anymore trouble with women" John laughed and smacked Arthur on the chest.

"What do you say we take her to, Tommy? He hasn't had a good bang since Sarah. He might just need this to give em a boost eh?" John thought out loud, looking at Arthur.

"That's the smartest that's slipped from your lips, Johnny boy" Arthur smirked and took me by the arm.

"We pay good if you come with us, we have a brother who's wife recently died. We just need you to give em something to take his mind off" John explained as they showed me out of the pub.

My plan was running way too easily. As much as I wanted to be happy right now- I was terrified. The Peaky Blinders were quite famous in the lips of a crowd. Their deeds were known quite well. I didn't want this to backfire on me- so I would have to do exactly as they wanted.

We arrived to what seemed like a palace. If this belonged to the Shelby's then they were definitely everything the word in the street said they where.

Bloody rich, bloody mad.

"You just do your thing, our brother Tommy hasn't been himself since his wife past, if you succeed we might just pay you a little extra" Arthur pep talked.

"Of course- I do this all the time, he's in good hands" I said, trying my hardest not to make sound as sarcastic as it truly was.

I was lead into a study. The doors closed behind me which caused the man sitting at the desk to look up. My breath hitched. This was it. Take out your gun and kill him. Take out your gun and pull the trigger. Take out your gun and don't miss.

"Can I help you?" Thomas asked placing his pen down and sitting up straight.

"Your brothers told me you asked for service?" I tried sticking to my roll.

"My brothers eh?" He nodded slowly and crossed his hands. "Do you think I need of your service?" He turned the question to me.

"I'm not sure, you tell me Mr. Shelby, do you need my service?" I asked back, walking slowly towards his desk. He stared me up and down.

I wasn't sure what his expression read. Did he like what he saw? Or did he see what I saw in myself all the time? A woman who hated who she was.

"What are you waiting for then?" He asked taking a stand and walking towards me. "For someone who's daily job is to fuck men- you're not very good at initiating" he smirked for a second before going back to his smoldering look.

"Tell me, do you like being possessive- or being possessed?" He asked his hand wrapping around my waist and pulling me into his chest.

My hand bag dropped on the floor with my gun inside. Why didn't I just pull the trigger when I had the chance?

"Are you going to kiss me?" I asked in a soft voice looking up into his eyes.

"I would if you weren't colored in like a clown" he said taking his handkchief and aggressively removing the red coloring off my lips.

He kissed my lips, my much slower rhythm not satisfying him. He pulled away with a bite to my lower lip, making me growl out in pain.

The conflicted man stared into my eyes. "Your eyes are too dark for my taste, and you reek of whiskey" he insulted.

Silent tears smeared my black eye makeup and probably made me look worse. I quickly wiped away my tears. Whoever this man was, he knew how to look into your soul and squeeze your heart, hard enough to make it hurt but not enough to break it.

"I was told I was needed here- obviously you've got deeper issues to fix Mr. Shelby- I'm not going to tolerate insults from someone who doesn't know the first thing about treating a woman" I said angrily and tossed the dirty handkerchief at his chest.

For a second I forgot about the mission.

As I walked for the door the sound of Thomas clearing his throat caught my attention. He looked inside my hand purse and took out the gun that was intended to be used. He raised his eyebrow- questioning me.

"I carry it for safety" I quickly regained my posture and tried to seem un-phased.

"A woman who sells her body- carries a a gun for safety" he says out loud.

"I carry it, Incase a costumer refuses to pay" I snarl emphasizing that he hadn't paid me- nor been a good customer.

"Right" he nodded taking a couple of euros from his wallet and placing them into my handbag.

"Why are you paying me, Mr. Shelby if I didn't serve you?" I questioned.

"Not me but you're going to serve a bastard out there who's not going to pay" he handed me my bag.

I looked into his eyes and took my bag. What had this man done that people wanted him dead?