xxᴠɪɪ | ᴛʜɪɴɢs ʟᴏɴɢ ᴏᴠᴇʀᴅᴜᴇ

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     𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃  and bruised, the company returned from the auction two thousand guineas lighter and buzzing from the adrenaline still flowing through their bloodstream

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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 and bruised, the company returned from the auction two thousand guineas lighter and buzzing from the adrenaline still flowing through their bloodstream. It took them half a bottle of some unknown liquor they found in the back of the truck and some of the liquid concoction Arthur now had to carry with him, to calm the oldest Shelby brother. Out as lights, he then proceeded to sleep off his temper until they reached Birmingham again.

One thing in particular weighted on Caterina's mind through the entire nauseating ride; Michael's hollow silence as he watched straight on, gripping the steering wheel in a cold surety. Not even when they dropped him off at Polly's at Sutton did he utter more than a couple words of a goodbye and a solemn nod of the head before he disappeared into the house.

To an unexperienced eye, it would look as if the boy suffered a great shock by seeing an unknown man being beaten into a broken pile by his relative, surviving a real assassination, just like the ones he had the opportunity to see in the pictures, or read about in the papers. And yet, Cat could decipher the silence through the determined eye and white knuckles, through the steady and even rise of his chest - Michael Gray had felt what most of them did once the dust settled over the battlefield. He felt alive and blooming in this new environment, cementing his decision to stay in Birmingham for good.

The thought of him joining their ranks, risking his life now, when Polly had finally found some peace of mind, brought in another wave of turmoil that rolled over her chest. Lately, it seemed everyone she met fell victim to the guns pointed straight at her head, and she'd be damned if Polly's son ended up among them.

Throwing away the possibility of stomaching anything but a cup of Earl Grey, Cat pushed into Tommy's office in a search for the fountain pen he kept stealing from her desk on every opportunity he had — she made a point of writing it down as a potential Christmas present for him.

     There were still things that had to be handled by the end of the day, and that included listing the unexpected expenses at the auction today, somehow masking the price of the horse so as not to draw Polly's fury onto them.

     Tommy's desk was a perpetual chaos; half read books underneath a full crystal ashtray, piles of papers in a desperate need of a signing, price lists and trinkets of all kind. A glaring opposite to a sharp cut, organised man he strived to be seen as.

She complained once how nice it would be if he added one of those fancy phonographs everyone of importance seemed to have these days, only to be cut off by a sharp no.

Cat found his obvious distaste for music peculiar, if not a bit worrying. Sometimes after a particularly exhausting day at work he'd find her in the Shelby kitchen and sweep her off her feet like a gentleman. There'd be no music save the gentle tapping of her heels against the old floorboards and their even breaths as he twirled her between the chairs and the dish cabinet.

𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 ♛ thomas shelbyWhere stories live. Discover now