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

Twenty one.

Chapter twenty one: About last night

"Some people just don't deserve happiness, and it looks like I'm one of them."

She inhaled slowly, her system responding to the smoke, and she felt her lungs being wrapped by a warm blanket. Taking small, slow draws of the cigarette, she felt delighted, like she had never felt before.

Caroline watched the deep flames of the enraged fire through blurry eyes. She couldn't breathe, nor could she hear even the simplicity of her heart racing in her chest. What was once beautiful wilted and cracked under the ferocity of the flames, turning to ash and dust. She continued to suppress a choke and splutter under the thick smoke. It smelt of kerosene, and had a strange scent of perfume through it. It was grey and intoxicating and she could feel it pull her very life away with each draw.

She didn't even make it out of the pub's lane before Tommy had chased after her, stripped from the hat that miraculously protected his egotistical ways. He was naked. With his emotions on display, he to come clean on how he felt for her, otherwise, she'd never speak to him again. He'd done something awful-unforgivable, perhaps. It was for a just cause but he couldn't risk the loss of Caroline. It was now or never.

"You're wrong." His tone was less harsh than hers. "You deserve the world, Caroline, and I want to be the one to give it to you."

She scoffed and with the heel of her shoe, she squashed the cigarette beneath her. "Too little too late, darling. It's quite clear that you used me for a night whilst having a certain blonde spy on your mind. How ever do I compete with such beauty?"

He dismissed her sarcasm, and with pleading eyes, he searched hers for forgiveness. "I didn't bloody use you, alright? I used her just like I use every woman! Except you, Caroline, you're di-"

"Don't tell me I'm different, because I'm not. You see women as an object to use to your own advantage, and you taking pride in that is absolutely vile. You're arrogantly twisted and you know what? I don't feel like working for a womanising bastard anymore."

Thomas shook his head and reached out for her hand. Out in the open, he didn't care who saw. "I'll change, I'll do it for you, I promise. Just-just don't leave, alright?"

"Why?"

"Because." Thomas took a deep breath, and with sincerity etching his face, he came clean. "I love you."

"Well, I don't love you." She spat and turned on her heels. "You lot are all the fucking same. You think that telling a woman you love her will make her world revolve around you and picture a white wedding with children. Not me, Tommy. If you love me, then show me, not tell me."

He reached out once more, grasping her wrist and her touch felt beyond cold. "I'll do anything, I swear. You just need to give me a chance."

A wicked thought crossed her mind, and with a smirk, she spoke. "I'll give you a chance if you tell me where Grace is."

"What?"

"Don't play coy with me. Of course you were with her tonight, so I want to know what happened and where she lives."

Tommy licked his lips. "You won't find her. She told me she's going to London for two weeks. Business, she says."

"Keep going."

"She told me she loves me and that she wants me to join her."

"And?"

"Her train leaves in ten minutes." He then whispered into her ear. "Do what you have to do."