✔️ | 𝐛𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐦 𝐛𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞; peaky blinders

･ ｡ﾟ°• ♔ •°───𝒙𝒙𝒙. 𝒘𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒅

soundtrack: sptfy.com/bbf30

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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟑𝟎
𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝
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"Whoever lives by believing in me will never die." —John 11:26

The skies in Birmingham were clear on Black Star Day for the first time in many years, and a pure kind of light fell down on the streets like shards of glass—too bright. Beatrice blinked back her self-suffering tears as she made her way to the Garrison where the men were drinking, ready to look her own misery in the eye as soon as she found Tommy. She had fought back and forth for a hundred different things over these last few miserable months: peace, power, love, home, and now she had no clue what it was she wanted. Stupid, stupid girl. She had a great many flaws, but stupid was unforgivable.

When she arrived at the Pub, she expected to find the men in bright spirits. Instead, Jeremiah Jesus was storming through, Arthur at his side, something grave on his face. "Where's Tommy?" he asked.

"I don't—I don't know," Trixie stumbled. "I just got here a minute ago."

"Tommy?" Arthur hollered, his loud footsteps echoing as he yanked open the door to the snug. "Tommy!"

The drinking had slowed, and Trixie tried desperately to shove away her panicking about Polly, her worries about the business, her rotten, horrible love for Tommy, and instead pushed open the door to the back hallway. There was Tommy—but he wasn't alone. He was chest to chest with Grace, head bowed. "What—" Trixie started. What's happening? What were you saying? What have you kept from me? "Hello?"

"Excuse me," Grace said, not looking away from Tommy as she ducked and made her way towards the back door. Trixie seized her arm, yanking her back.

"What's going on?" Trixie demanded.

"Tommy!" Arthur was getting closer. Suddenly the five of them were gathered in the hallway, and the walls seemed to be inching inwards, and Trixie tried to imagine what the hell business Tommy and Grace had alone in a dark hallway while the rest of his men were outside, and tried to figure out what Jeremiah had seen that warranted such urgency. "Tell him," Arthur said, pointing at the priest. "Tell him what you just told me."

Jeremiah hesitated. "Just heard there's two vans driving up the Stratford Road. An old corporal of mine said he recognized some of the men." Trixie knew before he finished where this was going, and prayed she was wrong. Please, no, no, no. "He said it's the Kimber boys, and they're heading this way."

Tommy's mouth fell open, and he turned his eyes to Trixie. "Everybody out," he demanded. He pointed to his wife. "Except you. You stay."

"I—"

"Now!" Tommy shouted. "I'm not asking again."

Arthur and Jeremiah evacuated, Grace close behind, and Trixie gritted her teeth. She didn't want to let Grace go that easily. Not when she had spied on them for months, and would probably leave town to save herself the trouble she'd spent months orchestrating. But wanting wasn't enough. Trixie was alone with her husband, and for the first time in their months-long sham of a marriage, she found herself afraid. "Campbell," she said. "He didn't just want the guns."

"You need to leave," said Tommy.

"You just told me to stay."

"You need to leave Birmingham, I mean," he clarified.