A Collection of Imagines

Tom

Just Like a Shelby pt. 4

I start to count all of the tiles on the ceiling, trying to let sleep overcome me. 10 down and 18 across. 9 down and 17 across. 8 down and 16 across. Alfie down and Solomons across. I bring my hands up to smack my face dead on. It's no use. Tears start to break through the surface of my eyes. My hand fall to my chest. What am I supposed to do now? Tommy would kill me now even if I don't act upon it. ... So what's the point ... right? I sit up in my bed, throwing the sheets away from my body. My feet hit the hardwood floor and I freeze. You can't do this. You don't even know where he is. My back hits the mattress with my feet still dangling. 10 down and 18 across. 9 down and Alfie ... Fuck, it's useless. He has embedded himself into my brain and I don't want him out. I rise from my bed, grabbing my coat and draping it over my nightdress. I open the bedroom door and pray to God that Polly is asleep. She would definitely question me as to why I am sneaking out in the middle of the night with a coat and a nightdress. And if she found out that I was trying to meet him, she would definitely tell Tommy. I make it out onto my street and towards my car. A bright light shines down the street as another car rolls up to my car. My hand rests on the door handle as I wait to be caught. The light turns off, but I still couldn't see who's driving. The door opens and out comes the man who's haunted me the second he walked into the Garrison. 

"Where are you going this late in the night, Shelby?" 

I look at him up and down. Still wearing the same thing as earlier in the day. "Nowhere now, Solomons." My hand lets go of the door handle. My mouth opens to say something, but nothing comes out. He stuffs his hands in his pants pockets, shoving away his coat. 

"Is there something you want to say, love?" 

I stare at him as his expression slowly turns to concern. I look up at Polly and I's shared home. Her bedroom light switches on. "Not here." He sees the light to and nods his head. He reaches his hand our for me to take. I walk closer and place my palm in his pocket. He pulls me closer to him slowly, examining me with his warm eyes. He opens the door to his car and guides me into it. I slide over to the other side of the seat and he sits down. He closes the door and I stare up at Polly's light. Nothing moves. I don't know if that's a good sign or a bad one. He drives off down the street. We meander through the streets of Birmingham, not saying a word to each other. He pulls into an alley where I know that none of my family will spot me there and I mentally thank him for that. He parks the car and looks ahead. Panic starts to flood within me. I try to look elsewhere. I look down to find that I don't even have shoes on. God, how stupid am I? If I don't die from Tommy's rage, I'll probably die of the flu. I feel warmth again as his gaze finds me. I shudder as I look into his eyes. "Tommy can't know." 

"Know what?" 

"That I'm here." 

"I know that, but what else can't he know, darling?" 

I freeze up again. He smirks and leans back. 

"You're finally going to admit it, right? You've fallen smitten for me, haven't you?"

He chuckles to himself. I'm slowly starting to regret this. "Piss off, Alfie. I'm fucking done with this." I reach over to the car door next to me. I'm about to walk back home barefoot. I would rather do that than sit here and subdue myself to his laughter. Suddenly, his grip finds my jaw. He turns my head towards him almost violently and his lips find mine. My hand goes up to his chest, pushing back. I stare at him for a moment. As the seconds go by, the smirk grows back onto his face. I lean in again and sink into him. The hairs of his mustache and beard are rough against my skin, but I kind of like it. Sweet and rough. Like whiskey. His calloused hand run on the inside of my coat and onto my nightdress. The thin fabric betraying me as I feel every inch of his skin laying on top of mine. They move up from my waist up to my breasts. I pull away before he can put a hand on them. He stops. 

"You are quite the stubborn woman." 

My eyes go to his again. My hand trails up to his face, pressing my hand up to his cheek and brushing my thumb over his now wet bottom lip. "Just like a Shelby, right?" He chuckles again.

"Just like a Shelby."