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THAT NIGHT, TABITHA AND THOMAS WERE IN THE GARRISON, HAVING A DRINK TOGETHER AWAY FROM THE FAMILY.

Grace was behind the bar as usual, serving the customers their drinks. Tabitha was going through the books, writing things down that she wasn't able to either.

Thomas had one hand around a glass of whiskey with a cigarette between his fingers, while his other hand was on Tabitha's knee. His slight affections grew more after John's wedding, when he finally came to the fact that he was falling in love with Tabitha. Was Tabitha falling in love with him as well?

A strange man then entered the Garrison, approaching Thomas and Tabitha.

"Mister Shelby?" The stranger asked with an Irish accent.

"Who's asking?" Thomas asked, turning to the stranger.

"My name is Byrne." Arrogance was laced in his tone, making Kit roll her eyes. "I heard from your man in Camden Town that you wanted to parley."

"Then parley it is."

"A few months ago a man named Ryan came to this place with a view of buying some goods for you. Mister Ryan met with an accident. He was shot."

"I've heard."

"He was a man with a quick mouth. I know that," Byrne started. "I wonder if he made any enemies here."

"None that I know of," Thomas replied, facing away.

"It's not the kind of place to make enemies."

Thomas chuckled. "All are welcome here, Mister Byrne."

"Including the Irish?"

"Oh, especially Irish."

"Ryan told you he was a member of the Irish Republican Army," Byrne changed the subject as Thomas took a drag. "Was he still welcomed?"

The topic made Tabitha and Grace both listen in, exchanging glances to each other.

"Like I say, any man that buys beer is welcome," Thomas replied.

"Perhaps you didn't believe him."

Thomas then clicked his tongue, moving his hand off Tabitha's knee. He turned around and faced Byrne, his back towards the gypsy woman.

"In pubs, sometimes people say things, sometimes it's the whiskey talking," Thomas said. "It's hard to tell which is which."

"As a teetotal man I find that amusing," Byrne replied. "Except when it ends in tragedy.

The arrogance in his voice made Tabitha annoyed.

"Would you like some water and cordial, Mister Byrne?" Thomas asked.

"You see, Mister Shelby. Ryan for all his quick mouth, was indeed connected," Byrne said. "Very well connected to our brotherhood. By membership and blood. He was my cousin. I'm from South Armagh. I'm a man of influence there." And then he arrogantly smiled. "Cordial and water would be grand, Mister Shelby."

"Grace. Bring some water and cordial to the snug," Thomas called out to the Blinder barmaid. Then he looked at Tabitha. "Come in with me."

Tabitha nodded, closed her planner and grabbed it, deciding to go with Thomas into the snug with Byrne. Grace followed in afterwards with the water and cordial in her hand. Tabitha sat down beside Thomas as he lit them both cigarettes. Thomas then stared up at Byrne in defiance, waiting for the man to say something.

"I thought this was men's business, Mister Shelby?" Byrne questioned, staring at the beautiful woman sitting beside Thomas.

"This is my wife, Tabitha," Thomas said, placing his hand on her thigh. "She is my business partner, so this is her business as well."

Byrne then continued speaking as if Tabitha wasn't there, but Tabitha didn't care. She did smile when Thomas called her his partner.

"My cousin came to buy guns," Byrne said.

"And I have told him I have none."

"Your man, Danny Owen, talks a lot when he's drunk. He says the Peaky Blinders do have the guns. Robbed from the factory down the road. He boasts about a stack of Lewis machine guns and enough belts of ammunition to hold up God's trousers."

"Yep. That sounds like our Danny. He has an imagination." Thomas said as he pulled out a cigarette. "Like I say, sometimes it's the whiskey that does the talking."

"He says only the brothers know where the guns are kept," said Byrne.

"Well, Danny also says he sees German infantrymen on the back of milk carts," Thomas replied. "And he shoots them with his broomstick."

"We have men in the BSA factory." Byrne took the glass of water and cordial. "They say it's you who has them. And we have men who work in the police station. Every finger, Mister Shelby, every finger in this city points in one direction. Please don't mistake me for a fool," Byrne finished, making Tabitha roll her eyes.

"It's hard not to the way you try to be actually scary," Tabitha, showing how annoyed she was of the Irishman.

Thomas rested his hand on her thigh, gently squeezing it as Byrne gulped down the entire glass of cordial. His glare was right on Tabitha, making Thomas show a protective look in his eyes.

"I don't care what kind of half-arsed tinker operation you have going here. But I can assure you, I represent a very different category of organization."

Byrne leaned over the table before rising from his seat, making Thomas and Tabitha look up emotionless.

"My cousin was shot," Byrne started. "I am judge, jury, and executioner. I find you guilty and I pass sentence. You deliver the guns to me, or I deliver death and hell's fury to you and your little tribe of heathens."

Tabitha responded by looking at Byrne with amusement letting the dark side of her out once he threatened to hurt Thomas and the family. Thomas knew she was going to something, seeing the gold flecks in her brown eyes slightly glow in the light. Tabitha couldn't take it and laughed straight in Byrne's face, making the man's blood boil.

"You think you and your whole petty speech was so scary, but it was a lot more cheesy at the judge, jury, executioner part," Tabitha said, trying to stop laughing. "You must've practiced that speech multiple times before you came here."

Thomas ignored Tabitha's comments as he spoke, but squeezed her knee.

"Let me confess something to you and only to you," Thomas started, taking his hand off Tabitha's thigh and setting it on the table. "I have the guns. And they're becoming quite the burden to me. Perhaps it's time to unload that burden for the right price."

Soon enough, Byrne left and Tabitha him to have a nice night in a sarcastic tone. Thomas was about to get on to Tabitha for how she acted, but when he looked at her, everything he was going to say slipped away.

HUMBLE BEGINNINGS || T. SHELBY (1)Where stories live. Discover now