LIKE STEEL || Tommy Shelby

VII. CUTS AND SCRAPES

- CUTS AND SCRAPES -

Sometime since Rose had arrived at the Garrison, it had began to rain; water poured out of the sky in sheets. Thomas was soaked, his coat dripping on to the floor and his hair slicked across his brow.

"Tommy what happened?" John asked, rushing to his brother. Thomas just shook his head, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. The music had stopped, so the five of them just stared at the water-soaked man as he sat himself down at one of the tables.

"Let me have a look at your face," Rose muttered, sitting down next to him and ignoring his grunt of protest.

"I'm fine," he replied.

"That sounds familiar, Mr. Shelby," she huffed, grabbing his chin and turning his face to the side.

"Let me get you cleaned up and then go get some rest. In fact all of you should go home now; it's late."

"Sounds good to me," Ada said, sighing and holding her stomach as she stood. She grabbed Rose's hand and gave it a quick squeeze before pulling her coat over her head and disappearing in to the dark. John and Arthur both finished their drinks quickly and ran out after her.

"I can stay, it's alright-" Grace started, but Rose just shook her head.

"It's alright, Grace. I'll see you tomorrow," Rose smiled, offering her friend the most reassuring smile she could.

Grace just nodded. "Lock up when you leave."

She placed a key down on to the bar and quickly left, the door blowing shut behind her.

Tommy was leaning back on his chair, looking up at the ceiling. Something about his face- the way he was sitting- almost made Rose pause for a moment. Something about him looked different.

"Now," she began, grabbing a clean cloth from behind the counter, "what happened this time, Mr. Shelby?"

"I got a scratch."

His hair was plastered across his brow and his eyes stared blankly at the wall. He didn't move as she poured some water on to the cloth and pressed it to his face.

She stared as his cheek, looking at the shallow, red scrape across it.

"This looks like the ricochet of a bullet casing, so you're going to have to be more honest with me."

He sat there silently as she continued to clean the wound. She racked her brain for something to talk about; anything to distract her from his skin under her fingers.

"How's that gorgeous horse of yours, Mr. Shelby? Do you think she will be at the races within the year?"

Finally, he turned his head and looked at her.

"I just put a bullet in her head."

Rose tried not to look shocked.

"Oh," was all she could say. When he didn't say anything, she continued.

"So you forgot the dangers of shooting close range, did you?"

He didn't answer; the only sign that he heard her was the slight dip of his head as he took another sip of his drink.

"Why?"

Thomas looked up at her again, his blue eyes- Rose realized with a jolt- were brimmed with tears.

"She looked at me the wrong way. Nobody looks at Tommy Shelby the wrong way."

His voice was low and gravelly. With a deep sigh, Rose sat down in the chair next to him, dropping the cloth on the table.