VIOLENT DELIGHTS | TOMMY SHELBY

CHAPTER TWO

"Fuck you, Tommy Shelby!"

No one in the den was surprised to hear Birdie Brooks' screeching voice burst through the wooden doors. This wasn't the first time heels would heavily clatter against the floorboards, on a mission to destroy their leader in any way possible. The Shelby gambling den was regularly rife with illegal betting and angry screaming, and Birdie simply added an occasional burst of interest into the smoky atmosphere.

"Can I help you, Birdie?" Tommy's voice was lazy. He had been quick to escape the hotel first, knowing Birdie would be hot on his heels within a matter of minutes. A woman, who seemed to know what was going on, had let the truth slip.

"You told my date I had the clap! Of all things, that's how you decide to ruin it?" Birdie screamed with little shame. The gamblers and the employees they were dealing with fell silent, staring awkwardly at the pair and those equally as surprised as them.

"You got a problem?" Tommy drawled. Birdie growled loudly, grabbing his cigarette and dropping it to the ground, crushing the smoking tobacco with her heel.

"I hate you!" She complained, glaring viciously at the man so desperately trying to hide a smirk.

"No, you don't. If you did, you wouldn't have followed me back." Tommy retorted with little, if any, emotion in his voice.

"You would have ignored me if I confronted you in the street. Might as well do it in front of your bitches." Birdie was never great at withholding her temper, but she was damn good at being petty.

Tommy growled, reaching forward to attempt to drag her into his office. Birdie stepped backwards with a smirk, her eyes flitting around the large room of employees trying to disguise their curious stares. Tommy grunted at this action.

"You're an asshole, Tommy Shelby. And you can be damn well sure that I'll destroy you the next time you try to ruin me." Birdie's voice was loud at her final insult, announcing her threat to the world with zero shame.

When she had marched out in a flourish of red, no one knew whether to applaud or remain utterly speechless. Tommy did the latter.

+++

Birdie Brooks loved her job with every fiber of her being, but even she knew that she was on her final legs. Being a professional ballerina and a war nurse in between meant your joints were a little worse for wear a little earlier than everyone else. Aiding your ex's gang on occasion also contributed sporadic bruises or sprains.

She strode into the King's Theatre, Birmingham's single grandest venue, that very evening. It was another world to the grimy back alleyways - bright with twinkling chandeliers and ornate painted walls. The stalls didn't serve whiskey or beer; it was nothing but champagne and martinis for theatre-goers.

"Birdie, hey!" Adelaide Burke was a lively eighteen year old that Birdie loathed. Everyone knew that Adelaide would eventually replace the ageing prima ballerina, becoming a star that would represent the theatre with extraordinary talent. This was something she was never afraid to boast about, belittling Birdie whenever she had the opportunity. Birdie had outgrown the childish whispers about the old lady from the slums of Small Heath, and took every gruelling hour of training as a 'fuck you' to those that doubted her ability.

"Evening, Adelaide." Birdie offered, flicking her a brief smile before grasping the golden door handle that led to the stage. She was still furious at Tommy, so the girl's presence was welcomed with little compassion. Adelaide almost instantly got the message when they strolled inside, and darted off when she spotted the corps de ballet beginning to stretch on stage. Whispers were fine, and Birdie shrugged them off.