Power and Lies

Eleven

"The minute you try to control anything else except yourself , is the defining moment when you, yourself, are out of control."
-Christine E. Szymanski

Tommy sat at his desk, whiskey in hand, and looked over at his brother. John was looking rough, with dark bags under his eyes and red knuckles where he had no doubt gotten drunk and hit something. He was not handling the lack of news of Freya well, and Tommy would understand. His own insides itched for the knowledge of her condition, but Polly had not returned nor sent word since the day before. Unable to put off work any longer, Tommy had come to look for his own distraction. They still had not found the person responsible for her attack, but it did not take much to know it was linked to the men under Finnigan. He felt nothing but pity for the person who did do it though, for they would feel the entire wrath of the Shelby family, and they would feel it alone.

"Have you heard anything?" John asked him, already knowing the answer. He was so optimistic she would be fine when he found her, but once reality had set in his optimism had floated away. Tommy wished he still had it, it would make the waiting a little more bearable. Polly had not mentioned anything from the last few days to John, which Tommy was thankful for, he struggled enough with the thoughts, he was unsure if John would be able to keep even the smallest fraction of hope if he knew.

"I've no idea John. If I did, do you think I would be sitting here at this desk?" His tone was more biting than he had intended it and John shrank back a little. "We've work to do, John. We can't all just sit here and mope all day."

"I'll kill them all, you know. Every last one of them," John spat shoving his chair back in anger. John was quick to act, unable to see rational thought once he had been slighted in any way, it was a gun Tommy had to keep from going off many times. Not nearly as many as Arthur, but enough times to know when his brother was fixing to pull a trigger that had no business being pulled.

"So your solution is to kill innocent people then?"

"They've done it to her, haven't they?" Tommy flinched. John did not know how close he was to the truth.

"She's not an innocent, John. She killed a man." It was the truth, she had, and so the beating had come in revenge. Tommy had no interest in a war. He could not attack an entire gang simply because of one person. The person who attacked Freya would be the only one to pay for it. "They work for us now," He reminded John who still did not want to see the truth in facts. John grabbed the whiskey bottle on the desk and threw it, heaving as it shattered on the wall. In an instant Tommy was on his feet, cupping his brothers face in his hand, digging his fingers uncomfortably into his skin.

"Listen to me, John. You lift a single finger before we figure this out and you start a war you'll be fighting it alone. This is not France, and these are not tunnels. There are rules here John and I'll not have you running from them because you're upset about a girl. Go home John. Go home and wait for word, but if I find you out doing anything I will break your legs off of your body." When he released his brother, John took a step back, anger coming off of him in waves.

"Fuck you, Tommy." But still he left, grabbing his coat as he left, and once more Tommy got to sit at his desk, savoring the silence his brother left behind.

"That was quite the show," Polly spoke from the corner. Tommy had not noticed her arrival, nor did he care that she was there unless she brought news with her.

"What do you want Polly?" He did not bother to look up at his aunt as she came forward, placing the chair back on its feet at his desk. Her feminine frame sank down into the seat and her hand reached out, grasping at his chin until his eyes met her own. Fatigue showed on her face, the worry lines etched into her skin.