The Peaky Blinders. A name that struck fear, curiosity, and hope.
People lived in fear of the Blindes rath. Destruction would be found wherever they went. Blood was to be shed at meetings (even if unplanned). Once on the bad side of the Peaky Blinders, you'd have to go through hell a million times to try and get some redemption in their eyes.
People who did not know the Blinders well were always curious of them. Who were they? Why were they here? What were they doing here? Will this end well? Or will it go horribly wrong?
But to the people of Small Heath, the Peaky Blinders meant hope. To the young lads growing up, it was the hope of getting a job working for the notorious gang. For the young ladies, a strapping young man who would sweep her off her feet. To the women, men, mothers, fathers (even the elder people of the town) the Peaky Blinders was their chance of feeling secure within their homes and on the streets. The Blinders meant that they had a chance of earning a proper wage, to be able to buy their children shoes that fit, clothes that were clean or even a toy that wasn't falling apart or had an eye or ear missing.
But to (Y/n) it was all three. Fear the Peaky Blinders would find out about their past. The wonder of what the men (and women) were like behind closed doors. And hope that one day one of them would notice her. Hope that they would help her.
(Y/n) had been working at The Garrison for little under a week now and to say it was eventful was an understatement. Drunk men would fight over the littlest of things. Women would try and break them apart and take them home in hopes of having sex that night. Other women would be looking for an extra quid. But tonight was a night that didn't compare to any other. The Shelby family had to The Garrison to celebrate. Finally having done all their dirty work and dealings, some of the Shelbys thought it would be a great opportunity to have a "couple" of drinks.
Tonight Harry had the night off which left (Y/n) on the bar. It was nearing the end of the night, (Y/n) getting ready to lock the bar up when the Shelby boys decided that it was a good time to come in. Sighing and grabbing a bottle of whisky for them, you began to pour them all a glass.
John and Arthur had already made themselves at home taking their glasses and sitting near the corner of the room. Thomas on the other hand seated himself at the bar, studying the way you cleaned and put away glasses.
"What made you work here, aye?" Thomas asked in his gruff voice as he raised the glass to his lips and took a sip.
"Need a dime to live, Mr.Shelby. You must understand that." You replied, never once stopping your movements, only glancing at him for a second.
A comfortable silence fell between the both of you. The only sounds to be heard were John and Arthur babbling on about something and the clinking of glasses on the tables.
"What's your name, love?" Thomas questioned, studying the way you blushed slightly at the pet name.
"(Y/n) (Y/l/n), Sir." You replied, lowering your head in hopes he doesn't see the rose tinting your cheeks.
"Well, (Y/n), I want you to come down to the shop 9 o'clock sharp," Thomas began to push himself off of the stool and headed towards the door, calling for his brothers, "and wear something nice, aye?"
Before you could reply, all three Shelby men left, leaving you speechless and wondering why he would want you to come to his office. and why did you need to wear something nice?
