Rosella Kimber is the daughter of Billy Kimber, one of the biggest crime bosses in 1919 England. Tommy Shelby is the leader of the peaky blinders, a gang on the rise, threatening Kimber's rule.
When Tommy and Billy put their differences away and dec...
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DARK, DINGY AND dim was the back of the vehicle in which Isaac sat in. Yet, it was the most light he had seen in forever. Exhausted, he tries to lift his body weight up despite being restricted by the metal handcuffs that silenced his pulse.
"You still haven't told me your name." Isaac mentions.
This mysterious police man had come into his prison cell at the crack of dawn, taken him out and now they were in the back of a vehicle, going somewhere. Isaac felt like he had every right to ask questions. It had been a living hell in prison; all that obstructed his thoughts was his son and Ada. Thinking about them was like a bullet to the chest, being ripped away from them was the injury.
"Someone who doesn't want to die. Or lose his eyes." The man who sat opposite him responds ominously.
With that, he reaches over and unclips the handcuffs that seeped into Isaac's warm russet skin, almost becoming a part of his identity.
"He came to my house. All of them did." The man continues. "Told me to volunteer for this. Pretty much forced me."
Isaac was more confused than he was two minutes ago. He couldn't grasp why this was happening, why he was being set free and who was behind it.
"Who did?" Isaac questions, turning his thoughts into words.
The man scoffs. "The Peaky Blinders."
Then, it all made sense.
And, a chuckle of relief slips from his lips. "Oh, Tommy."
•••
Tailored suits. Peaky caps. Polished leather shoes. Knuckles as hard as steel. They were the Peaky Blinders. You couldn't miss them even if you wanted to. Small Heaths very own god's. It was funny, how people there would rather talk to a gangster than a copper there; maybe it was because they knew they were on their side.
The men march into The Garrison, the heart of Birmingham.
Daisy was busy stocking the shelves, she had changed clothes now, washed the blood off her hands and watched the crimson red liquid escape into the drain. The deed was done. But why did she feel so bad about it? It was what she wanted.
Tommy did it all the time. He killed people. Daisy thought that eventually, she'd become numb to the overpowering guilt but it just grew bigger and bigger.
She had thrown up twice before she got here.
"Alright lads, listen here." Tommy shouts, addressing everyone sternly. "A pint and a chaser. No more. Daisy, you keep on top of that."
