Kimber's Daughter - Tommy Shelby x Reader Fan Fic

Chapter 72

I felt the pressure of fingertips on my throat. Beads of tears welled behind my eyes, but I swallowed them down. I wouldn't give these pieces of shit the satisfaction of crying. Or screaming, for that matter.

But then a door slammed and the fingers jerked away.

"The Peaky Blinders are on their way." My heart thudded at the words. A sob caught in my throat. "We have to clear out. It'll take a while to start the fire."

My eyes snapped open. The horrible man leered over me, his ugly face inches from my own.

"Maybe I'll get to keep your burnt corpse," he said.

That did it. I leaned back, and with all my might, threw my head straight into his skull, hitting him right in the nose. My own head pounded worse than ever, but it was worth it. He recoiled, blood streaming from behind his hand, howling. But when he opened his eyes, a new venom lurked there.

"Leave her!" Bellowed another of the men, shaking a liquor bottle around the place. "We need to get to the vantage point."

I shook with anger and fear as they doused the place in gin. Mercifully, there had been a problem with the number of crates ordered, and only half the place could be done. They hadn't doused me in it. One of them in particular looked irate about that. A match was struck. Flames broke free. Then they cleared out. Instantly, I tried to slip free of my bonds. I twisted and turned and pulled, ripping my skin raw, but they would not budge. I kicked at the floor angrily. The fire was spreading. It got hotter. Beads of sweat broke out across my forehead. I fought and fought and fought, containing my screams, in case they could hear. But as the flames consumed the building, as they licked closer and finally caught the hem of my dress, my inner fire went out.

I'm going to die in here.

I ached, for the baby inside of me, for Tommy. He would arrive, and it would be too late. The smoke was like a vice on my lungs, squeezing every last drop of breath from me. My vision began to blur. I could feel my own heartbeat slow, feel it shudder.

Maybe I'd cheated death one too many times. Or maybe this was how I was always meant to go. I tried to be brave. I tried not to scream. I retreated inside of my mind, and I thought of Tommy.

I love him. I love him.

And, as though I'd summoned the phantom himself, I felt Tommy's arms lift me free. I heard myself give a small noise in relief, my body aware even while disconnected from my mind. This must be death.

But it was still too hot. And Tommy was shouting, he was coughing, and I heard John's voice, too.

And then, a bucket of ice water slapped me, bringing me back to myself.

I gasped, wiping the water from my eyes, trying to open them. My throat burned with each ragged breath. I still felt like I was on fire.

"Arthur. Would you get my wife a fucking coat, please?"

"Tommy?" I breathed, trying to open my eyes.

I felt blistered hands at my cheeks, my jaw. "I'm here, love."

I wrenched my eyes open. They burned from all the smoke, watering straight away, but it was really him. I could see him, hair burnt off on one side and covered in ash and blood, but alive. Okay.

"Sweetheart, I need you to remember where the men went," he said, fighting for breath as badly as I was.

"They had a place nearby," I said. "They... they were going to watch."

"Get the units to search the area," Tommy said to Arthur. "And get John and Kimber to a hospital. Now."

"No." I clenched my jaw, forced myself to sit upright. The world span dangerously. Bile rose to my throat. I endured.

I drew my gaze from Tommy for the first time. John. He was on the ground, barely recognisable beneath burns. Barely moving.

"John," I whispered.

"He's okay," Tommy said, but tears sprang to my eyes that had nothing to do with the smoke.

I clawed at the ground, trying to crawl across to him, but Tommy wrapped his arms gently around me and pulled me to his lap.

"He's alright, love. See? He's alright. Tell her, John."

He gave a weak chuckle. "I'm not going anywhere, Kimber," he managed to say quietly. "Don't you worry about me."

I clasped my hand to my mouth. Tommy held me. He held me, and I pressed my face into his neck, and his arms did not leave me. I wanted to reach for John's hand, but I didn't want to hurt him.

"They've found them." It was Michael's voice now, low and shaking. "They have them in the thicket of trees. Two coppers are ready to take these two to a hospital."

"I don't need a hospital," I insisted. "Have them take John."

"Ah, but John'll need someone to keep him company," Tommy murmured.

I turned to face my husband, his glorious face burnt and exhausted, but still heavenly. "Tell me, Tom. Will you be able to save the men for me to deal with?"

He clenched his jaw. "After what they did to you? Not a chance."

"Exactly." I swallowed. "Have them take John. I'll head in later."

Michael looked as though he wanted to argue. Tommy held my gaze.

"You've never seen me truly angry," he said. I could feel him slipping, changing — he was morphing into Thomas Shelby, Peaky fucking Blinder. And he was right. It was a side of him I didn't have much experience with.

But I loved him. I loved all of him.

"And you've never seen me kill a man," I replied. "Would you like to?"