Angel of Death // TommyShelbyX[O/C]

Chapter 5 - Smoke and trouble.

It was the day of the trip to Camden Town to meet Mr Solomons and I would be lying if I said I wasn't dreading it with every fibre of my being. My night was plagued with nightmares of who we would cross paths with and every time I closed my eyes I could see myself, lay on the floor, drenched in my child's blood. So, I would say exhaustion was an understatement.

The sun bled through the curtains, letting me know it was time to remove myself from the bed in which I had not slept a wink and meander towards the splintering table in the corner of the dingy room. It didn't take me long to get ready. I pinned my hair up, a few loose curls framing my face. I even made the effort to slap on a pinch of makeup, a touch of lipstick and some powder. I inhaled deeply as I attempt to comprehend what is about to happen.

"He's here." A voice booms from downstairs. Those words made all the hairs on my body stand on end.

"Alright, Francis." I reply snakily.

I finish changing and step out of my room, slowly descending the staircase to see the front door already wide open, I can see Tommy outside stood by his car, and he can see me. As I reach the bottom Francis places his hand on my arm and whispers to me quietly.

"Be careful Moll, those Camden boys are not pleasant folk, if they lay a hand on you..."

Tommy cough's loudly, interrupting Francis, causing our heads to snap towards him. He is leant on the side of his black car, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, the smoke rising.

"I will be alright, Francis, I can take care of myself." I reply to him, raising my voice so Tommy could hear every syllable.

I slip out of the front door and stand in front of Tommy.

"Shall we head off, Thomas?" I say, raising an eyebrow at his nonchalant demeanour. He throws his now burnt out cigarette to the ground and steps to the side, opening the door for me.

"After you, madam." He replies, sarcastically.

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We were halfway to Camden Town, the whole journey in dead silence. My inner voice tells me to speak up and confront Tommy about Mr Solomons, ask about his business, but I knew that Tommy would just give a vague answer.

"I've never been to London before." I speak up, breaking the tension.

Tommy doesn't take his eyes off the road.

"Don't get your hopes up, Camden Town is not the nicest place." He retorts.

"I could say the same about Small Heath." I smile and I look to Tommy, a slight grin plastered on his face as he puffs on a cigarette.

An hour later we arrived, pulling up in front of what looked like a bakery.

"He is a baker?" I chuckle.

Tommy pulls the car into an alleyway and parks it.

"Something like that." He replies bluntly.

He steps out of the car and comes to my side to open the door for me, offering me a hand to get down. Instead, I just hold on to the framework of the car and jump down, ignoring his gesture.

"This way." He murmurs. "But first..." He spins me round to look at him, gripping my shoulders. 

"A few rules." 

I nod in reply, his breath hot on my face as we are centimetres away from each other.

"Don't speak unless you have been spoken to, do not mention your role in the Toxteth gang. Also, don't interrupt Mr Solomons, do not ask for anything from him and under no circumstances do you mention religion."

"Got it. Do fucking nothing." I fire back. Tommy rolls his eyes.

"I will lead the negotiations and you will sit in the corner, silently. He is not to know of your involvement."

"Whatever you say, Mr Shelby." I spit back at him, my mood turning sour.

"We don't want to keep him waiting now do we?" I mumble, starting to walk towards the door when Tommy pulls me back aggressively by my delicate wrist, causing me to wince and pull my hand away sharply. Noticing the reaction he earned he softens his voice and puts his hands in his pockets.

"I mean it, Mollie, he is a dangerous man, I'm only looking out for you." His eyebrows are furrowed slightly.

"I can look after myself, thank you." I smile sarcastically and Tommy begins walking towards the door, I follow behind him, like he asked.

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"Mr Shelby?" A tall, skinny boy wearing an apron greets us at the door.

"Yes, that would be me." Tommy replies calmly, his gruff voice booming through the street.

The boy shifts his gaze from Tommy to me with a questioning look.

"This is my secretary, Miss Warren." Tommy refuses to use my new name, but I don't mind, the way he says it sounds familiar and comforting.

I smile at the wiry boy and nod.

"Alright." He replies, opening the doors. "Follow me."

As soon as the dark oak doors swing open I am hit with a crescendo of noise and the intoxicating smell of alcohol. Somehow I feel like this may not be a bakery. We begin walking through the warehouse which is holding hundreds of barrels stacked to either side of us, I am so distracted by my surroundings I don't notice the large man walking towards us with pace.

"Put him down, Ollie." A low voice in front of us announces. "Put him down, mate. He is only little."

A tall bearded man emerges from the shadows, also clad in a white apron, glasses hanging on a chain around his neck. He opens his arms as he walks towards us and greets Tommy.

"Mr Shelby, and..." He looks me up and down, pausing momentarily, grumbling as he rubs his bearded chin. "Well, who the fuck would you be then, eh?."

Tommy shoots me a glare, and I know he wants me to reply, I assumed Tommy would have introduced me. Nevertheless, I gulp and project my voice to sound more confident, although, on the inside, I was a wreck of nerves.

"I am Mr Shelby's secretary, Miss Warren." I look towards the man who is now getting closer to me, holding out my hand for him to shake it.

He takes my hand in his and brings it to his mouth, kissing it gently before leaning towards my ear, speaking in a whisper. His actions causing Tommy to clench his jaw and watch him sternly.

"Well your a fucking brave one, eh?" He turns around and starts walking back in the direction he came from, and we follow him, Tommy's glare burning into my skull.

"You want to take a look at my bakery? We bake all sorts here, mate, yeah. Did you know we bake over ten thousand loaves a week, can you believe it? We bake the white bread we bake the brown bread, yeah, we bake all sorts."

We stop in front of a table holding glasses and bottles, Alfie turns to us and gestures towards the array of spirits before us.

"Would you like to try some?"