Bête noire → Peaky Blinders [Tommy Shelby] [ BOOK 1 ]

One.

Chapter one: Birmingham boys

The Red Cross Caroline wore so proudly in her day to day excursion no longer held any special meaning. The bodies were piling up in stretchers like sardine cans, soaking in their own blood whist waiting for assistance, but expectantly, the majority of them died, the infection spreading quickly to stop their heart.

With a fearful number of mental cases, the men rarely wore tin hats, therefore, the bullets had been lodged right in their skull, ending their suffering once and for all, however, if they were unlucky enough to remain alive, their brains oozed in crimson liquid down their temple and their dying bodies lay, plastered from head to toe in mud, covered in a sheer blanket to give them the decency of a sendoff on the ground, given the mortuary was full up.

Just at the ripe age of sixteen, Caroline was beyond terrified that men all around her lay dying and apart of her job was to save them, though after a period of time, she grew accustomed to the feeling of accepting the fact that she couldn't help them all, but hell, she sure did try her best. 

With the long white apron that stopped long at her ankles, she rolled her sleeves up to her forearms, sullen. A man had been rushed in on a chorus of his own groans and the background music of superiors who'd demanded emergency reinforcement. 

She wasn't cut out for this; the blood, the gore, looking into the eyes of a man, watching as life left his soul. But, this was her calling, and so she had to fulfil the role without any further hesitations.

The man was bleeding profusely from wounds all over his chest. The enemies were nearing, inch by inch and it was only a matter of time before they had to retreat back to the homeland. With his pain stricken face, the man gave an almighty yelp and latched onto Caroline's hand which was applying pressure on his injuries.

"Save me. Save me!" He panted, out of breath from agony.

That was the last thing he had ever said to her or to anyone. She screamed, shouted, pleading to the gods above to revive this man who'd bled out on her watch. Vigorously, she preformed CPR in a desperate attempt to bring him back from the dead but fortunately, he'd gone to a better place. Perhaps, death was better than being alive during such a horrendous blip in history.

Caroline awoke in a pool of her own sweat, gasping for air from her lungs that cried out, starved of oxygen. Unaware of the tears that resided under her eyes, she was exhausted from the constant warfare within, as though she hadn't experienced enough battle. For two consecutive years, she had reoccurring nightmares that placed her in the darkest places in her mind, the depths of despair. If only there were a way to take the edge off forever to end the suffering once and for all.

Suddenly, the brown oak door slammed open to reveal her father who had a gun in his hand, startled in the midst of the night. With his shirt half buttoned and his trousers loose, barefooted, he panted heavily, his weapon raised in alarm, then it quickly fell by his side as he realised his daughter wasn't in immediate danger.

"You're back there again. Ain't ya?"

Caroline gulped, nodding slightly and when she was embraced by Billy, she rested her head against his chest and listened to the thumping of his heart against his rib cage. He may have been a misogynistic, womanising, good for nothing bastard, but one thing was for certain; he loved his children and would walk to hell and back to guarantee their safety, no matter the cost, even if it entailed taking a life, to which he'd done many times before.

"I'll be okay one day, daddy." The eighteen year old woman looked up, hopeless. "One day."

Placing a kiss to her hair, he began walking towards the door, adjusting his gun which seemed to have been glued to his hand, wearing the weapon like a second skin. "I know you will. Goodnight, love."