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

Thirty two.

Chapter thirty two: Easier to go

Oscar was right. Patiently waiting by the Small Heath docks, he sat, his hands around the steering wheel of a Bentley. At that point in time, thousands of questions crossed her mind as to whose car it was and who exactly allowed him to get behind the wheel, but after twenty three hours on a speeding boat, she couldn't care less. She was happy that she could guarantee on her brother to be there for her when she needed him to be.

As she neared the vehicle, he stepped out and gave her a brief hug before he escorted her inside away from prying eyes that could possibly be spies for Campbell, or worse, Sabini. She didn't smile, in fact, she eyed him up and down and suppressed the urge to retaliate against his clothing that resembled the men she knew all too well. If his mentality changed just from associating with the Shelby's, she'd cause world war two.

"Who is Chester Campbell?"

Caroline hummed, knowing Oscar would find out eventually. "It's unsafe for us to sit here like ducks. Drive."

"It's also unsafe to keep me in oblivion about threats that are attempting to target you. I'll drive when you tell me who he is."

She shrugged as though the situation was meaningless. "The police inspector from Belfast. He was on Tommy's tracks, awaiting to strike him at any given moment, so I took matters into my own hands."

"By doing what?"

"I shot him in the leg and hit him over the head with a hard force." She then turned her attention to the blast of smoke ahead which came from the factory. "I thought I killed him but now, he's back for revenge."

Oscar added all the information up in his head. "That's why Thomas sent you away, isn't it?"

"If you ask any more questions about that man, I'm getting out and walking."

***

It came as a surprise to Caroline that not only did they have two new arrivals in the space of the four days she'd been gone, but it was also groundbreaking that they were the estranged children of Polly Gray; two out of the three children that had been ripped out of her arms all those many years ago.

Being just eighteen years old, Michael was two years younger than the infamous Caroline Kimber whom he'd already grown fond of. The second she introduced herself to him and took his hand into her own to give it a friendly firm shake, blush dusted over his tanned cheeks and John could only chuckle in the background, muttering for him to get in line behind the countless of men who fell weak upon her charms.

Caroline couldn't have been more happy for Polly. It came to her attention that not that long ago, she went to a gypsy medium for information in regards to her children, but the meeting hadn't gone as well as she hoped, so just as her longing increased and her mentality deteriorated, the two Grays stood, awaiting for their mother in the murky street of Watery Lane.

Rosaleen Gray was the youngest of Polly's children. Although she was only fifteen, it sounded as though she acted older than she appeared. Caroline hadn't met her yet, but she already sympathised with her background. At three years of age, she was placed into foster care and bounced between families that couldn't care less about her well being, hence why she was so cold and hostile towards others, but once reunited with her brother after many years, she decided that perhaps it was best to trace their family roots with the helping hand of Tommy who'd found them separately.

By all accounts, the siblings were like chalk and cheese. Caroline was yet to cross paths with Rosaleen, but from what she heard, she was a force to be reckoned with, to which she could only roll her eyes, wondering how mighty such a young woman could succumb to after a life of misery. On the other hand, Michael was a gentleman with a liking for accountancy, so he'd fit right into the gang, if only Polly would let him.