FLAMES ━━ 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐛𝐲

𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙣.

𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙣 | 𝘈 𝘛𝘈𝘓𝘌 𝘖𝘍 𝘚𝘗𝘐𝘌𝘚 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘈𝘍𝘍𝘈𝘐𝘙𝘚

｡･:*:･ﾟ✧ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

HER HANDS WERE PAINTED RED with the blood of her past fling as they drove into Small Heath at a slower pace than she would've preferred, given the state of current affairs.

As soon as James' words had left his mouth, Tommy had been blinded by unequivocal rage, and shot one, two, three times in the man's shoulder. A man, a strange man, had wandered into Tommy's world and threatened to take the love of his life away from him as he actively worked to take his life. Only when Annabel tore herself away from his arms and ran to tend to James' wounds that he realized why he hadn't killed him instead.

Perhaps, he should have. For whatever reason, he felt threatened and insecure about the presence of someone his soon-to-be wife might have loved. He was Thomas fucking Shelby, and yet the thought of losing his wife again could destroy whatever was left of him.

They had dropped Michael off beforehand, and as soon as the car stopped Annabel was out, trying to drag James into the home. The men barely helped her, not trying to fall pray to Tommy's wrath. She kicked down the door, and dragged the wounded man into the betting shop where John helped raise him unto the table. Annabel quickly worked on her old friend, dislodging the bullet, halting his bleeding and dressing his wound, all in a state of utter disbelief and hurry. She couldn't let him die. She would deal with all the world later, but she could not let him die.

An hour later, drenched in her friend's blood, she wiped her hands on a towel and looked down at the wounded man. She took a deep breath, then two, then three and finally turned to face the men that were watching her cautiously, her eyes settling unto one particular man, who leaned against furthest wall with absolute disregard to the situation his woman was in.

"Fucking hell," whispered John, at the sight of the fire in Annabel's eyes as she dumped the bloody towel to the ground and marched with a heavy, furious step towards her fiancé, she had barely reached him when her hands flew, beating at his chest, punching furiously as a single tear left her eye.

"What the fuck, Thomas?" She sobbed, "Why would you fucking do that? I told you not to fucking shoot!"

Tommy was unfeeling, barely moving against the force of Annabel's mighty hits. His gaze stayed out on the unconscious man that laid on the table, and anger continued to swell in his breast as he noticed the strength of the emotions Annabel was portraying. Only when John and Arthur ripped a crying Annabel away from Tommy did he turn to look at her. She was disheveled, and her clothes were stained with the blood of his now enemy as she so desperately cared for him.

"He was there to kill me. Natural reaction." Tommy shrugged.

Annabel groaned and ran against Arthur's arms to launch herself at Tommy, to no avail. "That's not what he said, or even tried to do!"

To that, Tommy exploded. "He fucking promised to take you away from me, didn't he, eh? I once told you I would kill any men that came near you, didn't I?"

"I'm not your fucking property!" Annabel screamed, scrabbling out of Arthur's grip and running back to Thomas.

"But you will be my fucking wife!" Tommy yelled, stopping her from launching herself at him by grabbing her wrists and pinning them behind her back, pressing her to his body. "Mine!"

"And you, my dear husband, yet I don't fucking try to kill all the women who try, or succeed, to fuck you! In fact, I introduce myself to them!"

"Come with me." Tommy groaned angrily, pushing her towards the door.