Ch 10: Scars

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A/N: Gizmos dress!


Killian POV:

I froze, my door halfway open as I took in the sight before me.

A lovely sight sure, but quite obviously dangerous if the look in her eyes said anything. She looked as odd as usual with a pair of goggles resting in her coppery hair and leather gloves up to her elbows.

Even that monstrosity of a skirt looked rather lovely.

Again. The look in her moss and metal eyes was not all that appealing, "Gizmo did you know where I am currently residing?"

"the ever tedious task of talking to drunken fools."

"And what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

Her kohl linked eyes narrowed at me, "I am in no mood for your sly smiles and games Mr.Blythe

I smiled anyways, "would you like some tea?"

"I do not drink with thieves nor am I in the mood to play these foolish games anymore."

I finally realized the emotion in her eyes was not simply anger, she was infuriated.

Still the girl with a few ticks short of a clock could be more helpful than the normal one, "and what pray tell did I steal?"

He chin lifted haughtily, a sneer threatening to make its way onto her sharp features, "The birth certificate of a dead girl Mr Blythe. That is what you have stolen from me."

I froze, "Miss Gladstone is dead?"

"So you admit you had it stolen."

I took the steps from my door two at a time, gripping the frail bird of a woman's shoulders, "now is not the time Gizmo! Is Ginnie dead?!"

She looked from my face to my hands upon her form with distaste, "Shall we add brute to your list of ever charming qualities?"

I let go of her, desperation crawling up my spine, "I apologize Gizmo but I really must know."

Her eyes seemed to drink in ever inch of my prone from, sensing my desperation. "You seem genuinely upset Mr Blythe."

"I have been chasing this girl for four long years Gizmo dear do not tell me I have been chasing a ghost."

Her lips parted in mild surprise, "four years? I thought you said you have never heard her name until four months ago!"

I nodded as her surprise was washed away by that stern look once more. "You seemed like the type of woman to take me for a fool for chasing a girl for four years so I turned it to months."

Peering up at me through her lashes she leaned in to whisper in my ear, "Mr Blythe, I'm afraid you have been chasing a ghost."

Then she turned on her heels and stalked off, leaving me with that terrible news.

Gizmo POV:

Maybe the bloody fool will leave London now.

Four years for a dead girl, the damn prat.

What sort of buffoon wastes that much time on a single girl he had never even met? One he himself knows was supposed to be unable to even walk at this point in her life?

I slammed the gun i had been polishing on the table.

I had opened shop as usual once i got home but could not find myself settling into the day my morning visit a constant hum in the back of my mind.

I stayed that way throughout the day until the sun started to set and closing time approached.

That was when the dark haired scoundrel walked through my door, looking determined, "what happened to her Gizmo?"

God god here we go.

I sighed, "I told you. She died."


"Does not matter how one dies. Its how they lived Mr. Blythe, and her life was not a good one it is best you just forget her."

"I will not Gizmo. I have spent too long to leave empty handed. Where is she buried?"

"She isn't."

"Not buried?!"

I shook my head, "she belongs to the Thames."

"Cast into the river?!"

"Something like that. There is your answer."

He seemed to process this, "how did she die?"

Bloody hell he was persistent, I already gave him a bone why wont this dog leave? "Murdered."

"Murdered? By who."

My response was bland, "A murderer."

"Im serious Gizmo."

"As am I, All I know about the person who killed her is that they are a murderer." I motioned to him, "now off with you."

"You must tell me everything you know about Ginnie Gladstone."

"And pray tell, what makes you think I know anything more. I only here whispers of the unwise criminal folk dancing on the wind."

"Because you know more than you like to let on. Thats a pattern in you Gizmo."

I stared at him for a long moment. "No."

"No?! Bu-"

"Good day Mr. Blythe."

"Gizmo! I must find her killer."

"She died long before you even started to look for her, let her bones rest your mad hunt is useless."

He stared at me for the longest moment, no traces of his false charm left upon his face, "A girl is dead Gizmo, one who never deserved the travesties she was dealt. I don't know what she looks like but I was told of scars on her back from many years of abuse, tell me that she does not deserve justice."

I shot him a look, "her justice is in gods hands now."

"You don't believe in god."

"I said that hoping you do and would leave so I may close shop."

He looked at me incredulously "bloody hell woman don't you have a heart?"

"People avoid me for a reason, if you intend to stay in London its best you follow suit. The existence of my heart is like that of my morals, questionable."

With one last glance he left the shop.

It looks like I am not going to be ridding myself of that fool anytime soon.

In a fuss over some scars. 

We all have scars, none of us leave this bloody earth without getting bashed up on the way.

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