WHO WILL SAVE YOU NOW • MICHAEL GRAY x READER

Chapter 18

It could have been mere minutes, or it could have been hours – you had no idea how long you had stared at your father's face. Afraid to blink, fearing that when you open your eyes he would not be there. To you the whole world stood still, even though you could feel a presence sitting next to you the whole time. The person said something, but the words didn't reach you, getting lost and fading on their way to your mind.

Then it clicked. Within seconds the switch in your mind turned on, and you could finally tear your eyes off your father's lifeless body. You could see familiar figures running around, their trusty guns along with them. You could see the person next to you was Michael; you desperately wanted to thank him for not leaving your side for even seconds, but you were unable to form any words. When you looked down you saw that the blood on your hands, on your wedding dress, had long dried. And as much as you wanted to cry, you couldn't – there were no tears left to cry. Even when you hugged Michael so tightly you feared he couldn't breathe, not one single tear dropped down from your eyes.

The only thing you could do was stare ahead, no emotion on your eyes, as you sat on the cold concrete with Michael's arms around you – it could have been mere minutes, or it could have been hours. The light in you had disappeared, and you knew you would never gain it back.

IIIIIIIIII

The next couple of days went by like a blur – you tried to keep your mind occupied with tending to your bar, desperately wanting it to be opened. Your days ended late at night when there were barely any people left on the streets. There was always someone with you – Michael, Lucas, John or Arthur – and they didn't leave you alone for even a minute. And even though you were deep down grateful to them, the only thing you wanted to do was yell at them for treating you as if you were made of glass.

The whole city of Birmingham was searching for the person responsible. Whole streets talked about your father's demise with every person having a theory of their own. There were people who thought the Lees were behind the whole thing; the Italians, the Russians, Alfie Solomons and the Peaky Blinders themselves were named as responsible every now and then. But you knew. You knew who the person was – it didn't matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you knew it was Andre Pierce. His absence turned it into a fact; the other possible explanation for him not being there was that he was lying dead in the canal. But if he wasn't, you were ready to put a bullet into his heart – family or no family.

You knew that was the only thing you needed to do.

IIIIIIIIII

The whole cemetery was full of people, people you didn't even know. Every party of the underworld was present, forcing you to accept their condolences even though the only thing you wanted to do was to shout at them to leave you the fuck alone. Michael stood bravely right next to you, his arms around you never leaving. He didn't know, but his touch was the only thing that calmed you, making you sure you couldn't have gotten through the day without him by your side.

Everyone's eyes were at you during the sermon. Not one emotion was visible on your face, not one tear rolled down your cheeks during the funeral. It took you everything you had not to burst into tears right now and there; it took your father's words in your mind to keep a neutral expression on your face.

"Never show your enemies any emotions. If you do they'll see you're not invincible."

They definitely didn't think you were invincible. You were a young woman in the world of men, about to be the next leader of a gang. As much as they tried to play innocent you knew in their minds they wanted to shoot you dead right there. Raimond Pierce had been the person stopping them, and now with him dead you knew it was only a matter of fact before you yourself would be buried next to him. Of course the fact that Peaky Blinders were your allies stopped them, at least for now.

Just as quickly as the people had arrived, they left, stopping yet once more to offer their condolences. Almost everyone in the cemetery had left when from far away you saw your uncle appear. From the matter of his walk it was obvious he was drunk, and you could clearly see the gun in his hands. Michael instantly saw the look on his face and as he turned around he instantly stepped in front of you; Tommy and Arthur had too noticed him and were standing behind your uncle, their pistols already out and ready to fire.

"Fucking Y/N," your uncle slurred, barely able to even form proper words, "if only you had played the role of a fucking wife and not desire what I deserve. I deserve to lead, not you!" he yelled. His gun didn't even manage to get its bullet out before he dropped onto the ground, his lifeless eyes staring into yours.

IIIIIIIIII

Your uncle's words didn't leave you. Sitting in your father's cabinet with your head on your hands, you knew there was some truth to his words. It would have been a lot easier if a man ruled the gang. It was common belief that a woman could not do what a man could, and for a second you were sure you couldn't. Slowly, your uncle's words were replaced by your father's, and you knew that there was a reason your father wanted you to continue his legacy.

When Lucas entered the room your head rose. His face was expressing concern, especially when he noticed the full glass of whiskey in your hands. If it was any normal day, the glass would have been empty by now, yet it wasn't even touched. That was a clear indication to him that recent events had taken a large toll on you, which was completely understandable.

"Lucas, ask everyone to come here. I have an announcement to make."

"What are you announcing?" A second didn't even pass before he replied. He knew there were two options as to what you were about to say. He desperately hoped that the answer to his question was the one that he was hoping for.

"That I am the new leader of the Pierce gang."