𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐎 𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐅𝐎𝐗 𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 -thomas shelby

𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊: Rᴜʟᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ

"Red Right Hand" by Nick Cave and The Bad Seed

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𝙱𝚒𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚊𝚖 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟿

The city was dark, full of life but also of smoke. The tall chimneys of the factories rose above the rest of the buildings just like those skyscrapers in America, but those did not give off smoke, of course. The old brick houses, now gray due to smoke and dirt, had square windows through which some women could be seen peeking through the curtains, waiting to see if anything unusual happened to discuss with the neighbors the next day. With a life so tough and yet so simple, Jack thought it had to be the only thing that amused those poor women.

Took a closer look around: children playing without shoes, women dressed in dirty rags and man full of dirt from the factories. Neither the poverty nor the dirt in that place scared Jack, she had gone through worse things and was not afraid to get stained with a little mud or even blood.

Anyone coming to the city for the first time would think that it was ruled by the devil, which was not very far from reality. The Peaky Blinders, the infamous gang that ruled Birmingham and in command, their leader: Thomas shelby, the devil himself. The lethal, and quite attractive, gangster was the one who pull the strings of everything that happened in the city. If Jack wanted to untie herself from the past, she needed to call Thomas and make a deal with him: a pact with the devil.

"Oi fock off mate, are you focking blind? Don't even think of getting in my way again, you hear me prat?" Jack was startled by the blow to her shoulder, that sent her to the floor. The man she had bumped into was large and burly, with short dark hair that matched the dirt that covered his face. He was wearing an old gray shirt and a loose black overalls. But before Jack could react, the man had already gone.

"What a gobshite" Jack murmured under her breath while she got up. Great now she was more dirty than before. Looking around, noone had paid any attention to the little accicent.

It would have been difficult to attract someone's attention, Jack dressed like any other boy out there: a white shirt buttoned up to her neck, high-rise gray wool pants, and a jacket of the same material and color. The latter were too small, as if they had been stolen from a child, which was not so far from truth. She really look like a lad, which was the main goal.

As she walked again she repeated the mantra that she had been saying since she got off the train from London 'O'right calm down, everything is fine, all is going just as planned, you just need to drawn their attention and you'll be able to start again' she mentally repeated and continued the way to the main goal: The Garrison. A bar who was under the protection of the Peaky Focking Blinders, or that's exactly what the other lad in the train had said.

She continued down the street ignoring the calls of some women or the insults of other boys looking for a fight. Just as she turned a corner: there it was. Overflowing with people, the screams of the men could be heard from several meters away. "Magnificent" Jack thought it was a shame that such a nice pub was used as a fighting ring, but again there were more things to worry about than a few chairs broken, or a few noses.

A mischievous smile escaped Jack, she was definitely going to enjoy this. The "lad" adjusted the peaky cap, to prevent her mid-long "manly" hair from falling out in case there was a fight, and there was definitely going to be one. Jack scratched the palm of her left hand, it was an involuntary tick, something she did when there was going to start a fight.

She opened the door of the pub violently causing several people to turn around to look at her. Jack sent them a cold look and clenched her jaw as she ignored the men around her to reach the bar.

"What do you want lad? Glass of water? Or maybe call your mum, we have a phone in the back room" The bartender said laughing while he looked at the young lad.

"What did you say gowl? Didn't heard you with that nasty accent" Jack exaggerate the irish accent to the max while sending a stare to the man in the apron.

"Care to elaborate again mate? I don't think I've got what you said" Harry's smile had disappeared as had the laughter of the rest, who were now watching Jack intently.

"What is it? Have your ears rotted from hearing your nasty anthem? Whiskey, Irish. Now" Jack slapped her hand on top of the bar causing the silence in the pub. Just what was wanted.

"The fock did you said, you dirty slag?" One of the mans who where in the nearest table shouted while he getting up and coming near Jack.

"For the love of God, have all the focking brits been deprived of the ability to hear? That bloody war could have done us all a favor and left you mute" Jack sighed, knowing that there was no going back at this point. She scratched her palm again. Fortunately, she moved to the right just as the man swooped down to where Jack had been just a second ago. When the man collided against the bar counter, Jack took advantage of the moment and grab the man's hair and crash his head against the bar counter.

After leaving a puddle of blood on the bar, Jack adjusted her jacket, sipped the whiskey, and turned to leave. Just passing a group of men, one of them spat on Jack's old shoes.

"Damn Irish scum, go home to plant potatoes" he snarled.

Jack stop dead on his tracks 'This wasn't supposed to have hurt on an emotional level' thought while she signed.

"Now there is only one way we can fix this" Jack said lowing the voice but enough to be heard. She remembered the lessons of an old friend. 'First, distract target' Jack turned and tossed one of the caps on the tables over the man's face 'Then block his blind jab"'Jack hit the man's arm, avoiding the punch that was meant for her 'Counter with cross to left cheek' The "lad" slapped the man with both hands on either side, causing him to become disoriented 'Dazed, he'll attempt wild haymaker. Emply elbow-block and body shot"'Jack intercepted the man's punch with her left elbow, then punched him in the right side 'Weaken right jaw.. Now fracture' She punched the man's jaw again 'Break cracked ribs' She punched the man's rib cage 'Dislocate jaw, entirely' The man received another punch in the jaw from the girl 'Finally, heel-kick to diaphragm"'Jack lifted her leg and hit the man in the center of the chest causing him to fall back.

She was breathing heavily in the middle of the room, with deep inhalations through her mouth as her chest rose and fell "'n summary: ears ringing, jaw fractured, three ribs cracked, four broken, diaphragm haemorrhaging. Physical recovery: 6 weeks. Capacity to spit at the shoes... Neutralized'  She was brought back to reality when she heard the sound the click of a gun.

"Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. My. Pub" Harry was aiming a shotgun directly at Jack's head.

Jack turned and left the pub, but not before hearing just what she needed.

"Call the focking Peaky Blinders, you hear me? Tell them what happened, we need to deal with that bloody irish lad" Harry shouted.

Jack smiled, her plan had worked. 'It always works' she smiled proudly as she walked in the direction of an Irish pub she had passed on the way there 'Now a pint doesn't sound so bad' she thought to herself.

ᴡʜᴀᴛ sʜᴇ ᴅɪᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪs ᴛʜᴀᴛ sʜᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ ʜɪᴍsᴇʟғ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ ɪs ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ, ʜᴇ ʀᴇsᴘᴏɴᴅs.