March // John Shelby x Reader - Peaky Blinders

Chapter 41

John

He'd seen it in her eyes. The sadness. The resignation. The guilt.

Who wouldn't feel that way, he thought, silent in the back of the car Tommy drove. It had been her wedding day. And three men had died. One of them, at his own hands.

Not many brides had to watch their husband murder in the same suit he wore when he said his vows just hours before.

No wonder she could barely look him in the eye. He wanted more than anything to hold her, to calm her and reassure her she would be okay. He'd protect her. But how could he protect her from this life, from the violence? It had infiltrated through already. She'd become a target for men he didn't know, and couldn't enact further vengeance on.

"I'll take their fucking eyes," he says quietly. "All of them."

Even if you walked away. Even if he lost you as his wife. He'd still blind every last man even loosely affiliated with those who'd tried to hurt you.

"That's the spirit," Arthur says. "Need to fucking find them first, mind."

At that, a deep bellow comes from the boot of the car.

Tommy sighs. "The jurisdiction of our police only extends another few miles. Best we deal with him now. John, control your temper, we'll need him alive until we know everything."

"Like fuck," John mutters, loading a bullet into his chamber.

But he understands the importance of finding out what's going on. The only way to know for sure if you're safe.

They get out of the car and Tommy opens the boot, revealing the man. His wrists and feet are tied, he's blindfolded and gagged, but he has managed to push the fabric away from his mouth using his tongue.

"Let me fucking out of here!" He yells.

Tommy presses the barrel of his gun to the man's forehead. He quiets, whimpering.

"Relax," Tommy says. "If we wanted to kill you, we would have by now, eh?"

John shoots his brother a dark glare, but Tommy steps back and lights a cigarette.

"Who are you fucking working for?" John asks.

"Fuck you," the man spits.

John rips his cap free and slashes it across the man's eyes, slicing through the fabric blindfolding him. He screeches in pain as blood forms, howling and jerking his tied up body.

"Let us ask you again," John says calmly. "Who. The fuck. Are you working for?"

"Easy," Arthur murmurs, but the man speaks through racked sobs.

"We're for fucking hire," he says. "Anyone can fucking pay us."

Tommy sinks down to crouch beside the man. "And who's been paying you to come for the Peaky Blinders, eh?"

"I don't know," he whimpers. "I don't fucking know!"

"Then who does know? Tell us the name of your leader, and we'll let you live."

The man sobs. "Solomons," he says. "We answer to Alfie Solomons."

John's jaw clenches as he exchanges a look with Tommy. "Alfie fucking Solomons?" He says. "Alfie's the one trying to murder my fucking wife?"

He rips his cap across the man's eyes until he's silent, and then unloads every bullet of his pistol into him.